Temporary Bride_Dakota Brides Page 3

  Lena twisted her hands then faced Anker squarely. “I will get up and light the fires from now on. It will be my job.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, searching for the right words. “I will light the fires. You and Charlie will stay in bed until the room is warm.”

  She shook her head. “It is mine to do.”

  “I will do it. It is a man’s job.”

  She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin.

  He sighed. So many times these past few months he had seen such a look in her eyes. All stubborn and determined. About to refuse help. “Lena, I think we need to settle this for good. There are things I will be right in. And things you will be right in. This time is mine.”

  She shook her head again. “I do not want to be taken care of.”

  They stared at each other across the heater as Charlie continued to lope around the room.

  Anker sighed again. It could all be so simple if she would let it. But Lena did not let anything be easy. “You do not trust me. That I can understand.” Though he’d been back and forth to her house all summer and done nothing but help her. Never once had he said or done anything that could give her the slightest bit of cause to be so distrustful of him. “You will learn that I am a man of my word. What I say, I do. What I promise, I do. What I decide, I do.”

  Her chin jutted out further. He wondered it didn’t hurt her jaw. “You mean you’re the boss and I will do what you say?”

  “No. I do not mean that. I mean I will honor my word, but at some point we need to have some sort of—” Again he searched for a word to say his feelings. “Accord? Is that right?”

  She flicked him a look. “I think it’s what you mean. You want me to—” She fluttered her hands. “Let you do things for me?”

  “As you do for me when you cook a meal, I will do for you by lighting the fires. Both of us—” He curled the fingers of one hand around the fingers of his other hand and showed how they locked together.

  She studied his hands. Her expression shifted from stubborn to confusion and then back to stubborn and he sighed. She wasn’t going to give in without arguing. “Lena, why do you push my plan away? Why do you find it—” He couldn’t find the words. “Why are you afraid to let anyone help you?”

  She turned away to watch Charlie. “You’re right. I do not want to be helped. I do not want to be owing.”

  Her answer confused him. “How will you be owing?” He showed his hands locked together again. “We work together.”

  “You think you owe Johnson because of your promise. I am not an obligation.”

  They stared at each other as Anker fought for the right words. Finally, he gave up. “We will work together. Some things you do. Some I do. I light the morning fires. You make the meals. I do the chores. You look after Charlie. You see it will work out anyhow.” At her startled look he realized he’d said the last in Norwegian and he quickly translated it to English.

  She turned away, obviously not convinced.

  But it would work out. He would keep his promise to Johnson and God would honor Anker’s faithfulness. Had not God said a man should not promise and not keep?

  “I’ll have breakfast ready shortly.”

  As she left to the kitchen, Anker squatted down. “So how is the little man doing?”

  Charlie stopped in front of him and began to chatter.

  Anker could understand few of the child’s words.

  Charlie reached for his hand and led Anker to the window. “Horse.” He pointed.

  Anker picked him up so he could see better. “Ja. My horse. Can you see the cow?”

  “Cow. Moo.”

  Anker chuckled. “Smart little man.”

  Charlie grinned, apparently liking the compliment.

  The smell of frying pork filled the room. Charlie turned toward the smell and squirmed to be down. He raced for the kitchen. Anker followed more slowly, but his steps quickened when he caught the scent of fresh coffee. It would be good to share breakfast with Lena and Charlie.

  * * *

  The door shut behind Anker as, finished with breakfast, he went to do chores. Finally, Lena could breathe easy.

  But the reprieve was all too short. Anker returned and stood by the heater, warming his hands. “I will bring your stock over here for the winter.”

  Lena wanted to protest, but this was not an offer she could refuse. The animals would die if not cared for. She needed her stock to start over.

  “I will go to town, too. Is there anything you need?”

  His question highlighted her desperate circumstances. “I have no money. The little I had is probably melted into a puddle along with everything else I own.”

  “I will purchase what you need.”

  The skin on the back of her neck prickled. “And how will I pay you?”

  “Are we back to that? Can you not accept help when you need it?”

  “I’ll trade you Bossy’s calf for feeding Bossy and the chickens. And us.”

  Anker made an explosive sound that caused Charlie to stare at him with wide eyes. “We will be done with this arguing back and forth. You need help. I will give it.”

  “I’ll give you the calf in return.” She would not relent even if he threatened her with his huge fists.

  He stomped toward the coat hooks.

  “Wait.” She didn’t want to ask any favors but unless she did. . .

  “What now?” He hesitated before he faced her.

  “I would borrow a piece of paper and envelope if you have them. I need to write to Sky.”

  He showed her the box on the shelf where he kept his writing things.

  “Do you mind waiting? I’ll be quick.”

  “Is not a problem.”

  She bent over the paper and wrote a few lines informing Sky of her present circumstances. Oh, if only she could run to her friend. But it wasn’t Sky’s comfort she wanted as much as . . .

  Wasn’t it about time for her to accept she would not ever have what she wanted? She pushed the silly question away. All she wanted was to be able to start over.

  Anker put on his coat and heavy hat and wrapped a scarf about his neck.

  She folded the paper, inserted it in an envelope, addressed it, and handed it to him then wrote a list of the barest essentials to survive the winter. “Thank you.”

  “I will be back by dark.” He stepped outside and closed the door.

  She was alone. So alone it hurt. Charlie played with a cap that had fallen from a hook or she would have pulled him into her arms and hung on for dear life.

  The one thing she wished for and could never again have was the security and hope she’d known when she and Johnson started life on their own land.

  * * *

  Anker did not go directly to town. First, he would visit the Nilsson family and explain his change in circumstance.

  Ingvald Nilsson came from the barn as Anker rattled into the yard with the democrat wagon. “Good morning,” Ingvald called in Norwegian.

  The familiar words eased tension from Anker’s shoulders. He hadn’t realized how much work it was to speak English all the time.

  “Come in for coffee. Inga is just baking some butter cookies.”

  “Now there’s an invite a man can’t resist.” He missed the almond-flavored cookies of his homeland.

  He followed Ingvald indoors and greeted Inga and the two older girls—Magda and Kirsten—twelve and thirteen. Then there were two smaller children—Peder, seven, and little Hilda, four. She wasn’t much bigger than Charlie even though she was much older.

  He waited until his cup steamed with hot coffee and a plate of cookies had been placed in the middle of the table before he told them why he had come. He described the fire and Lena’s loss. “We were married last night.”

  A stunned silence greeted his announcement. He studied the faces of those at the table. The two younger children played in front of the stove, oblivious to his words. The two girls looked happily surprised. Inga blinked. Ingvald�
�s face hardened into a frown. He was the one to speak first.

  “Girls, go see to your chores.” He waited for them to slip away. “Anker, this is a big mistake. You could find a fine Norwegian woman. Why, have I not offered more than once to write back home and ask for a young woman to come out with the next family heading west? You could have a houseful of fine, white children.”

  Anker gave the man a steady stare. If anyone suspected this marriage was anything but real, the rumors would multiply like mice. “Charlie is now my son and will be treated as such.”

  Ingvald lowered his head. “I wish you all the best then.” His words sounded more like a warning than a blessing.

  “She lost everything.” Anker turned to Inga. “I hoped you might be able to spare something to help her and the boy.”

  Inga nodded briskly and patted Anker’s hand. “She needs our help.” The gentle smile seemed to indicate she meant more than clothes. “Wait while I gather some things together.”

  A little later she returned. “It isn’t much,” she said. “Most of Peder’s stuff has been used by Hilda. But there is a warm quilt, a coat that might fit her son, and a couple of shirts.”

  Anker guessed by the size of the bundle there might be a few other items as well.

  He put the things in the back of the wagon and headed down the trail toward Grassy Plains, Dakota Territory. Everything about this new country was so different. No mountains. No fjords. No trees. Only open land reminding him of the sea. It rolled on and on into the horizon. No need to feel crowded here.

  He approached town. He’d seen great stone buildings in Bismarck but here they were wooden structures that, for the most part, were unpainted. Many with false fronts as if trying to convince the world they were larger. He reined in at the General Store, well aware of the curious interest of the nearby man and woman. No doubt news of his marriage had already circulated through the town.

  Inside, he paused to glance around. He’d never before had a need to check out the selection of ladies’ wear, but he saw a ready-made dress in the back corner. He’d like to buy one just like it for Lena, but suspected she would get all dogged and stubborn about accepting it. He shifted his gaze to the stack of yard goods. That would make a better choice.

  He strode to the counter. Mrs. Lowe stood waiting to serve him as her husband sorted through a bin partway down the store.

  “I’ll be needing material for a dress for my wife and overalls for my son.”

  Mrs. Lowe gave him a hard look.

  Anker had seen this look and overheard comments when it came to Lena and Charlie. As if all the wrongs between the settlers and the Indians rested squarely on their shoulders.

  When the woman made no effort to get what he asked, he pulled out some coins and dropped them noisily to the counter top. “She’ll need women’s things too. You’ll know best what those are.”

  Mr. Lowe straightened at the sound of cold, hard cash. “Woman, why are you standing there gaping? Fill Mr. Hansen’s order.”

  With a look that said she’d as soon see them in Adam and Eve’s garb for the winter, the woman crossed to the yard goods and selected a bolt. She glanced at Anker for his approval and he nodded. The leather-brown color would be practical and look pretty on Lena with her brown hair and brown eyes.

  Later, his order filled to his satisfaction, he headed for the Stevens farm. He paused at the blackened, ice-shrouded remains of Lena’s house. He couldn’t imagine anything could be salvaged from the debris, which only emphasized his earlier realization. She had lost everything in this world. Everything but the things that mattered most—her life and Charlie. And a few head of livestock.

  How could she think she’d rebuild? No trees in this country to cut. Lumber had to be ordered in at a price. Many settlers resorted to building out of sod cut from the raw prairie. He’d been in one of those hovels. Lena and Charlie did not belong in such a dark, dank place. He would not let that happen.

  He proceeded to the barn where he captured the chickens and tossed them in gunnysacks, ignoring their squawks of protest. They’d be happy enough when he set them loose in his barn. He tied the cow to the wagon. The calf would follow.

  Dark had fallen before he managed to get home. He took care of the horse, released the chickens, put the cow and calf in a pen, and then headed for the house. He walked slowly, his arms loaded with bundles. But it was not his load that slowed his steps. He did not want to face another argument with Lena.

  She waited inside the door, Charlie in her arms. The boy babbled a greeting and reached for Anker.

  “When you weren’t back by dark, I—”

  She’d worried about him? The idea erased the tension of anticipating another argument.

  Anker put down his bundles and shrugged out of his coat. “It’s nice to step into a warm house.” He rubbed his hands together and watched for a reaction from her. When she only nodded and began to turn away, he grabbed the first bundle. “Nilssons sent a few things.”

  “Very generous of them, I’m sure. Hamptons were here too. They brought some things their boys had outgrown. Most of it will have to be cut down.”

  He took note of the lack of warmth in her voice and understood how it hurt her pride to be forced to accept kindness from others.

  “I picked up some things at the store.” He untied the strings so the brown-wrapped bundle opened to reveal a hint of the things he’d bought. He picked up the yard goods. “Thought you could make yourself a new dress out of this. And here’s something for overalls for Charlie or whatever you want to do with it.”

  She drew back as if expecting to be stung by an insect. “I can’t. I can’t take all this. There is nothing I can do to pay you back and I won’t be owing you.”

  He scrubbed the heel of his hand back and forth over his forehead. “You could give me one thing.”

  She darted a look at the door as if considering escape.

  No point in assuring her he would keep his word. She would only know she could trust him after he’d proved it.

  “I am not wanting what you think.” Not that she wasn’t a beautiful woman and any man would be proud to take her as his wife. But he’d given his word and he would stick to it. “Lena, the one thing I want is to not face an argument every time I step in the house.”

  He held her gaze. Would she see the value of agreeing to his request or continue to argue and disagree with everything he said?

  Chapter 4

  A shudder ran across Lena’s thoughts. It was true. She had been difficult. Mrs. Miller would have never tolerated such behavior. Even Johnson would have expressed disappointment. But how was she to handle this awkward, unwelcome situation?

  Surely, she could be polite. She had only to remember the standards Mrs. Miller had drummed into her. Never argue with any of the boarders even if you are right. Being confined to the windowless, airless pantry for a whole day with instructions to pick off the long, hairy sprouts of a barrel of potatoes had reinforced the lesson.

  Show a little gratitude for my charity in keeping you.

  Lena had not yet figured out a way to erase those echoing words from her mind. She supposed they would remain there the rest of her life. The charity had made Lena resentful not grateful. She had long ago vowed she’d not be owing anyone like she had Mrs. Miller.

  She’d changed as Johnson’s wife. He’d never treated her as anything but an equal partner. How often had he said the word as she helped him shingle the roof, fork hay into a wagon, or haul dirt up from the pit that became their well? Partners. His voice had rung with approval.

  But she didn’t want to be partners with Anker. She wanted to be on her own farm—the one she had established working hand in hand with Johnson.

  She didn’t know how to be with Anker. But one thing she did know. The arguing had to end. “It displeases me as well,” she said. However, she must be certain he understood she could manage on her own—after these little bits of unwelcome but necessary charity. “I will do my bes
t to be compliant while I am in your house.”

  She couldn’t tell if the way his eyes narrowed signified he didn’t understand her words or understood them and didn’t like them.

  “You’ll use the things I bought you?”

  She nodded slowly, reluctantly, knowing she didn’t have any choice.

  “And we’ll be, we’ll be....”

  She waited as he searched for English words to explain what he wanted.

  “I do not know what you call it. But can we work together?”

  She considered his request. “I can live with that.”

  He grinned. “Good. Now show me what the people sent.”

  His pleasure in her acquiescence and his eagerness to investigate the parcels made his eyes dance. Blue, she thought. Blue as a summer sky at high noon.

  She jerked away and loosened the ties on the bundle from the Nilssons.

  A winter coat that would fit Charlie. A warm hat and a pair of new mittens. “I expect she knit these as a Christmas present. I’ll have to knit another pair in return.” Only she had no yarn, no money to buy it, and no fleece to spin.

  She held up a dress. “Oh, I’m sure she can’t spare this.”

  “Don’t suppose she would have sent it if she couldn’t.”

  She held the dress up to her shoulders.

  “Perhaps she has outgrown it.”

  Surprised at the dry observation from Anker, she glanced up, saw he grinned crookedly, and she giggled. “Could be.”

  She found some stockings for both herself and Charlie and in the bottom, a ball of yarn and some knitting needles. And a folded bit of paper. She opened it but the words weren’t English.

  She handed it to Anker. “I don’t know if this was included intentionally or fell in by accident.”

  “It is intentional. I will read it to you: Dear Mrs. Hansen—”

  “Who?”

  He chuckled softly. “You.”

  “Oh. Right. Go on.”

  He hesitated. “It takes a minute to put it in English.”

  “I can wait.” She couldn’t imagine there was anything she needed to be in a panic about.