Come, Josephine

Chapter 24

1927

   Winter fell in a brisk fashion, failing to pause its steep descent despite all of my pleading. Christmas drew threateningly near, as did the new year, and I was bitterly reminded of how things had changed. The last Christmas mamma and I had celebrated had consisted of a meagre dinner and sparse decorations. There had not been many presents either- but we had been happy.
If I wished myself away hard enough, I could go back. One moments, I would be in Jack's kitchen, sat by the stove, and the next, I would be in the old house. A sorry looking tree by the door, a threadbare rug by the hearth and a dinner spread out upon an undressed table. Curtains drawn to keep in the heat. A single log in the fire. Blankets drawn up around us. Mamma across from me at the table. Laughter. Smiling. Joy. Ignorance which shuts away what we ought to acknowledge of the world outside. Bliss in the unknown-
   But it didn't really matter, not really. We had Jack now; Christmas might always be a little lean, but we had Jack. He never failed to bring laughter into a room in the darkest hours, and mamma thrived off of his presence. We might always be riddled with anxiety and fear over the people who so openly disliked us, but we were better off.
   There had been no more violence or cause for concern, and Nick's presence was more and more frequent. As the year drew to a close, he would appear in another layer of clothing each time he visited, much to our amusement.
"It isn't that cold! Come on, it's a beautiful spring day-"
   "Shut up!" He'd laugh, "for a Californian, you sure handle the cold better than I do."
   "And I'm a girl."
   "Well, alright, but I only try to stay warm because my shoulder aches..."
   At least the reminder of what had happened was less dramatic than it had been previously. It was no longer at the forefront of our minds, and while the memory drummed at the back, it had not made my stomach churn and twist the way it once had.
Nick's shoulder still bothered him from the bullet wound, but it had healed surprisingly well. He wasn't alone in the prolonged-aching either; my injured leg still made it difficult for me to mount a horse or use the stairs. While Nick struggled to do small tasks with his hand, buttoning coats and tying his laces, I could walk well until the affected leg needed to be raised. The doctor said our injuries might repair in time, but that there were no certainties.
Nick remained optimistic and brightened with valour. He never failed to be chivalrous and was always prepared to help mamma and I. He would help us bring sacks grain into the house when Jack was busy working the fields, and was equally as helpful when we needed buckets of water brought in or things fetched from high places. Nick was an extra set of hands that we never knew we needed; even for Jack. He could hardly manage to complete the jobs that needed two skilled people.
So, Nick came over every Saturday morning to help Jack with the heaviest of farm labour before returning to the house for lunch. He would then help with whatever else needed doing, or perhaps take a walk with me to the lake. Jack and mamma always made sure he ate dinner with us too.
   Nick said that he came over to help because his father had four sons; himself, and three older brothers. He said that meant his own farm was well-kept and his father already had too many mouths to feed. Jack supposed it was because he was fond of me, a little too fond, as he put it.
   On a particular evening in December, Nick and I went for a walk to the lake. I stood by the water's edge, silent in thought. Grey mist rolled across the icy surface, spinning and leaping like a dancing ice-skater. I would have ventured out, if only it wasn't for my lack of faith in the ice.
   The lake was beautiful, even in the bleakest part of winter. The sun had already set on Wisconsin, and I was certain nothing could be more chilling than the night air. It would be ideal to have a cottage on the water's edge in order to seek refuge from the cold. Perhaps it would even be nice to have a house by the shore. Although the lake itself was surrounded by a grove of trees, some encroaching on the body of water itself, there were meadows just past it.
   Snow began to fall, and Nick turned me to him. My coat, although practical enough, was not that warm, but Nick's great fur coat was large enough to fit us both inside. He unbuttoned it swiftly and pulled my gloveless hands into the warmth.
   "What are you thinking about?" He asked, playing with the fur on my collar.
   "I was thinking that I would much like to go skating, but there are several problems with that," I said earnestly.
   "Oh? Like what?" Nick asked.
   "Firstly, I do not trust the ice that much."
   "No, especially not after hearing Jack's stories," he laughed.
   "And I don't particularly think you can skate without ice skates," I smiled.
   "No," he said, forcing a frown, "perhaps I ought to buy you some for your birthday next week. I still haven't got an idea on what to buy you."
   "Well, that leads us on to the final, most pressing issue," I pulled my hands free and strode along the lake.
  "Hmm?"
   "I'm to be sixteen, and that's far too old to be ice skating."
   He ran to catch up, swinging me around with him by my shoulder, "you tease me."
   "Well, yes," I grinned, "but being sixteen means I must be far more serious."
   "Why?"
   "I need to get my affairs in order, for one," I said, "but most importantly, I must find a husband."
   "Isn't sixteen a bit young to be worrying about that?"
   "No- I hardly want to be married right away, but I will want to have known my husband for a good few years before I marry him."
  Nick stopped dead in his tracks, "well, have you not found him already? If you do not intend to marry me, then why do you allow me to spend so much time here? I don't do it for my health, you know."
   Suddenly, he had stopped joking. The change in his tone was so sudden that I knew he was harbouring some level of resentment.
   "Nick, you have hardly shown any incline to marry me until right this very moment," I snapped.
   "Have I not?" I thanked the heavens for the snowfall to muffle out the sound of his yelling.
   "You haven't even kissed me!"
   He grumbled, "girls don't usually want to kiss their beaus until they are engaged."
   "Well, then why haven't you proposed?"
   "What?"
   "If you're so set on marrying me, then why haven't you proposed?"
   "I didn't know-"
   I wrung my hands in frustration, "Nick, we're going around in circles!"
    "Well, then I suppose we should just..." His voice trailed off, and he took one step forward as I did. When I was within arm's reach, he grabbed me. Before I could register what was happening, his lips were on mine.