A Bride for Keeps by Melissa Jagears

Author:Melissa Jagears [Jagears, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027050, Mail order brides—Fiction, Farmers—Fiction, Frontier and pioneer life—Fiction, Kansas—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441263339
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2013-09-12T07:00:00+00:00

Julia kneeled in the dirt. The sprouts in the back rows had gotten big enough to distinguish the weeds from the plants. Gaps in her lines indicated she hadn’t differentiated so well earlier in the month. She scraped the tines of her garden fork around the leaves that weren’t green beans or potatoes. She picked her way through the plants, wincing a couple of times, unsure if she’d pulled the right thing. If she knew more about gardening, digging in the dirt might have been enjoyable. But she didn’t want Everett to have to tell her what she should already know.

Did she need to do something special with the plants before they got ripe? How would she know if they were ripe?

Her stomach twisted at her ineptitude and lack of knowledge. Why had Father decided to marry her off instead of allowing her to help in the store? If he hadn’t set her up with Theodore, she’d not be here meddling with the mysteries of vegetation. And this was scarier. If she ordered the wrong fabric, no one died. If the garden survived her clumsy hands, would it produce enough food to get them through the winter? She laid down her implement and stared at the shack. The months she’d be cooped up inside with Everett hit her like the ceaseless whack of his maul. Could he keep his distance when the snow and the winds trapped them indoors, when evenings descended before sleep beckoned? She’d seen the look in his eye. He found her attractive. But he hadn’t pushed. In fact, those looks were fleeting, only lasting a second before he turned away and busied himself.

But when might he cease busying himself with something else?

She threw her handful of weeds over the fence and sat back, hands firmly planted on her dirty knees. She didn’t want to do this any longer.

But she must. She’d made the choice to make this her home.

She ripped out a dandelion. She’d never understood how much work it took to cook and keep house. She’d been spoiled by Father’s shop and the restaurant down the street. Everett must have realized how ignorant and lost she was this morning—not even knowing eggs should be preserved for winter. What a failure his choice of a wife turned out to be.

She wiped the tear tickling her nose. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask her to leave. She only had her looks, a tiny bit of farm experience, and Rachel’s instructions to lean upon. That wasn’t enough to live on her own out west, or even choose a good situation for herself.

She sat back and glanced through the wooden railings of the fence sloped around the tiny garden plot. In the field, Everett wriggled out of his shirt and wiped his face. He flipped his suspenders back over his shoulders and picked up his hoe. The sight of his bare chest caused flutterings in her that she pushed away. She wiped at the perspiration along her brow. She was dirty and sweaty and smelly and sore.

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