UNBROKEN PROMISE

~9~ Going Shopping

Logan's POV

I  wiped my brow with the back of my hand, taking a deep breath as I glanced toward the house. The talk with Oma had gone about as well as I’d expected—she was scared, pale as a ghost—but she’d listened, and that was the most important part. I wasn’t a man who liked conflict, especially not in my own home. The farm already took enough energy out of me, and the last thing I needed was a wife who didn’t understand her place or the rules that kept things running smoothly.

As I  walked toward the barn, my thoughts trailed back to the kitchen, where Oma was still gettin’ used to her new life. I could see it in the way she moved—tentative, like she wasn’t sure if she belonged. Well, I  thought to myself, she’ll get used to it in time. Everyone does.

Pushing open the barn door after doing some chores,  Mama Becca’s voice called from the main house. “Logan, breakfast’s ready! Come on in!”

I smiled to himself. Mama Becca always had a way of keepin’ things steady. I couldn’t imagine the farm without her, not after all these years. Wipin’ my hands on my trousers, I headed towards the main house, my boots kicking up the dust along the path. I pushed open the door and found Oma already in the kitchen, helpin’ Mama Becca and Megan
set the table.

The smell of fresh-baked bread and bacon filled the room, and my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I  was until that moment. Mama Becca smiled up at me as i stepped in.

“Come on, boy, sit down and eat,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “We’ve got plenty this mornin’, and I don’t want to hear no complaints about it.”

I grinned and settled into my chair, pullin’ a plate toward me as Mama Becca and Oma finished setting out the food. I glanced over at Oma, who was quiet but movin’ quickly, helpin’ clear the dishes and refill the coffee. She was tryin’, and that was all I could ask for right now.

“Thank ya kindly,” I muttered,  as I filled my plate with eggs and bacon.

Oma sat across from me, barely touchin’ her food, her eyes still a little wide from their earlier conversation. I felt a twinge of somethin’—maybe guilt, maybe sympathy—but I pushed it aside. She had to understand how things worked around here, or things would fall apart real fast.

Halfway through breakfast, Mama Becca cleared her throat. “Logan,” she started, “I want you to take me and Oma into town today. I need to get some fabric for new dresses for oma and some other things I might need for the house. Oma here’s gonna need a few things too, I reckon.”

I looked up from my plate, my eyes moving to Oma, who was quietly takin’ her seat after clearin’ a dish from the table. Her cheeks flushed a bit, and she looked down at her hands.

“Yeah, I suppose she does,” I replied, nodding slightly as I chewed my food. “Ain’t much at the house right now, and it’s a fair bit o’work that needs doin’ in there too.”

Mama Becca nodded approvingly, dabbing her mouth with a napkin before continuing, “I figured we could make a list of things she’ll need on the way into town. Give her a proper start.”

I wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up, pushin’ my chair back. “Alright, I’ll go get the horses ready. You two finish up here, and we’ll head out.”

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, and I took a deep breath, feelin’ the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. Oma was his wife now, and it was up to me to make sure she had what she needed to run the house.

Lord knows she’ll have her hands full
I thought as I walked to the barn to get the wagon ready.

I hitched up the horses, checking the reins and adjusting the harness. My mind wandered as I worked, thinking about how different things were gonna be with Oma around. I’d spent years runnin’ this place on my own, with only Mama Becca and Jacob to help. Now I had a wife, and that meant things were gonna change. But that didn’t mean I was gonna ease up on the rules. She needed structure, and I ain't the kind of man to let things slide just because she was new to the farm.

When I had the horses ready, I walked back toward the house, his boots crunchin’ on the gravel. I found Oma and Mama Becca waiting on the porch, Mama Becca with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and Oma lookin’ a little nervous but tryin’ her best to hide it.

“Y’all ready?” I asked, giving them a quick nod as he helped them up into the wagon. I climbed up onto the seat and took the reins, clickin’ my tongue to the horses as they started toward town.

The ride into town was quiet at first, the sound of the wagon wheels clattering along the dirt road the only noise. I glanced over at Oma every now and then, catchin’ her watchin’ the fields as they passed by. Her hands were folded in her lap, and I could tell she was still a little uneasy. I couldn’t blame her—leavin’ everything she knew behind and comin’ here must’ve been a shock to her system. But she’d have to adjust. She didn’t have much choice in the matter.

About halfway to town, Mama Becca broke the silence. “Now, Oma,” she said, her tone warm and kind, “we’re gonna need to make a list of things for your new house. I reckon you’ll need a few things to get started, especially in the kitchen.”

Oma looked over at her, noddin’ slowly. “Yes, ma’am,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I watched the exchange out of the corner of my eye, feelin’ a sense of relief that Mama Becca was takin’ the lead on this. She had a way of makin’ people feel comfortable, and if anyone could help Oma settle in, it was her.

“We’ll start with the basics,” Mama Becca continued, her voice smooth as she started listin’ off items. “You’ll need pots and pans, of course. Some good knives for cookin’. An Logan, you’ll have to make sure she’s got a washtub too.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road as they bumped along. “Yeah, I reckon we’ll get whatever she needs. No point in her strugglin’ without the right tools.”

Oma shifted in her seat, lookin’ a little overwhelmed but listenin’ closely. “I’ll make sure I have everything,” she said quietly, her hands still clenched together in her lap.

I glanced over at her, my brow furrowed. “Ain’t no need to worry yourself about it. We’ll take care of it. You’ll get what you need.”

We rode in silence for a few more minutes, the town slowly comin’ into view on the horizon. The small buildings and shops lined the main street, and I steered the wagon toward the mercantile, where they could pick up the supplies. As we pulled up, I helped Mama Becca and Oma down from the wagon, my hands steadyin’ Oma as she stepped onto the dusty road.

Inside the store, the air was filled with the smell of fresh wood and fabric, and the shelves were lined with everything from tools to jars of preserves. Mama Becca led the way, talkin’ softly to Oma as they made their way through the aisles, gatherin’ the things she’d need for our home.

I hung back, lettin’ the women handle the shopping while I browsed the tools section, occasionally chippin’ in when Mama Becca asked me a question about somethin’. I watched Oma out of the corner of his eye, noticin’ how quiet she was—how she seemed almost out of place among the bustle of the store.

As they moved through the store, Mama Becca placed fabrics in the basket, showing Oma which ones would make good dresses and curtains. Oma nodded politely, takin’ it all in, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She wasn’t used to this life yet, but she’d learn.

After they’d gathered everything on the list, we made their way back to the wagon. The sun was startin’ to dip low in the sky as we headed home, the supplies packed up tight in the back. I kept the reins steady, my mind wanderin’ to the future.

This is only the start, I thought, glancin’ over at Oma, who sat quietly beside me. She’s got a long road ahead of her, but with time, she’ll find her place here. Just like everyone else does.