A Bride For Us

The Ring

After several minutes of trying, the window gave way to the sunlight that flooded the living room. A triumphant sigh escaped Lily’s lips as she swatted the dust that was now making its way into her lungs. She held the tip of her nose and took a step away from the window.
 
Not only was the building most likely going to cave in on them, it just might choke them all with dust, before caving in and helping to bury their dead remains. Or would it be hunger that would get to them first?
 
Frustrated, Lily let out a breath slowly and closed her eyes. Breathe, she mentally scolded herself, fighting the urge to cry. She needed to breathe and think and not go insane—all of which were proving to be an arduous task to achieve. But she could do this; she had done it once before with her mother’s illness after her father’s death in a coach accident. In one night, she had transitioned from being someone’s little girl, to being someone’s caretaker. She had been brave enough to sell off everything, pay the medical bills, care for her mother, fire their household staff, and take on the role of caring for the home. When her mother passed away, she had been brave enough to salvage the situation, sell off the house and answer an ad for a mail-order bride. Surely, she could take on the role of being a wife and a mother. She could adjust to this new life, if only for a while, until she could think of something else to do with her life. She would serve Raymond and his six children and to do that, she would begin with this dead ‘living’ room.
 
She planted her fists on her hips and opened her eyes. The sunlight streaming into the room through the open window made the room seem larger. The floorboards desperately needed fixing and scrubbing, the windows needed panes, and the walls needed painting. She thought the house needed to be demolished, but she didn’t think Raymond would be likely to accept her suggestion.
 
“What are you doing?”
 
She turned around and found Scarlet standing by the foot of the stairs, her arms folded across her chest. She was dressed in a dirty nightdress, and her hair appeared worse in its tangled state.
 
“We never open that window!” Scarlet gestured to the window behind Lily, her frown deepening.
 
Lily opened her mouth to speak, but Scarlet was already making her way to the window. Lily turned to find her reaching out to take hold of the woods that acted in place of panes.
 
“You should stay away from places you’re not wanted,” Scarlet murmured, causing Lily to raise an eyebrow.
 
“I…” Lily began, then swallowed when Scarlet turned around, her brown eyes doing nothing to hide her displeasure.
 
“You broke the window?!” she hissed, indignant.
 
“I thought the room needed some light.” Lily finally found her tongue. Something about the girl before her made her feel uncomfortable.
 
“That’s what the window by the sink and the back door are for. You should have asked! No,” she shook her head, her tangled brown locks slapping her face, “you should have stayed wherever it was my papa found you! You should never have come here!” she declared, brushing past Lily. Stunned, she watched Scarlet exit the building through the back door.
 
Lily stood still for several seconds, uncertain of how to respond to Scarlet’s outburst. The twelve-year-old did not like her, she thought, frowning. She was doomed to deal with hunger, a dilapidated building, a lying husband, and six children—one of whom had an undisguised hatred for her. Could this day get any worse?!
 
Just then, as the thought raced through her mind, the front door burst open and Raymond appeared. He stepped into the room carrying supplies. A longer look at the items in his hands and Lily immediately knew he had gotten what she asked for that morning—every single thing she had requested. He carried them into the kitchen and dumped them on the table, turning to leave the house without a word to her.
 
Lily worked hurriedly to get breakfast started. She was in the middle of kneading dough when the other children made their way down the stairs, all looking terrible and raggedy. Fighting the urge to wince, she forced a smile to her lips instead.
 
Millie stormed down the stairs, flinging herself at Lily and wrapping her arms around her waist. She giggled, patting the little girl on her head. Millie’s hug was a welcome change from Scarlet’s hostility.
 
Once she had finished making breakfast, she served large portions of food for the children, hardly surprised when Scarlet made her way in through the back door and placed herself on an empty seat. Although Scarlet’s silence was a hostile one, all five children didn’t seem to notice as they chattered away with their mouths full.
 
She made a plate for Raymond, who still appeared to be avoiding her, and placed it on the table. Taking a large pot, she filled it with water and placed it over the stove.
 
“Thank you, Lily!” Millie called, wiping her mouth with her dirty sleeves. She cringed inwardly at the child’s dirty state.
 
“What are you doing?” another child called, motioning to the stove. Lily turned to the child who had been quiet until that moment, curiosity brightening her green eyes, which were in significant contrast to the brown eyes of the rest of her siblings.
 
“I think you all need a bath,” Lily explained.
 
“You’re right.” Green eyes smiled, displaying two missing front teeth. “It has been months since we had a bath.” She bobbed her head.
 
“I do not need one.” Scarlet wiped her lips and rose to her feet. She wiped her greasy hands on her dirty nightdress and turned briefly to Lily.
 
“Yes you do, Scarlet, your hair stinks!” A boy, perhaps James... Lily shook her head, uncertain what his name was. She had been too stunned by the news of six children to pay attention to names.
 
“No, it doesn’t!” Scarlet groaned, visibly upset. “I’m going outside to read a book,” she declared, turning around.
 
“But you can’t read!” Millie frowned, folding her arms and sticking out her tongue.
 
Someone laughed, earning herself a scalding look from Scarlet. Lily stood stunned by the news of the inability of a twelve-year-old to read, unable to see the humor in it.
 
Scarlet turned around and began making her way out of the room, but not before Lily saw the redness of her face.
 
✴
 
“Papa?” Raymond was pulled out his reverie. He turned around sharply, stunned.
 
It took a few seconds for him to recognize the girl who stood behind him with a basket in her hands - Josie! Cleaned and most likely fed, Josie stood worlds apart from the child he had seen the day before. While her clothes were dirty, her skin was clean and devoid of mud marks. Her brown eyes sparkled with life and her brown locks appeared washed and oiled, before being pulled to a neat ponytail.
 
“Lily wanted me to bring this to you.” She held out the basket to him.
 
He stared at the basket, confused by Miss Austin’s thoughtfulness. From their last conversation, he knew he upset her. Yet, she had sent him food.
 
He nodded and covered the distance between them in the barn, taking the basket from her.
 
“Thank you, Josie.”
 
She nodded, her gaze falling to the ground as she turned from him.
 
“Josie?” he called, and she paused. Josie still suffered from the effects of their mother’s passing two years ago. Of all his children, she was the one who seemed willing to suffer in silence.
 
“Yes, Papa?” she whispered.
 
He wanted to ask how she was doing, even if he knew she would most likely not be keen on talking about it. There was the part of him that wanted to pull her close and wrap his arms around her, to smoothen her hair and kiss her cheek. But the major part of him didn’t want to talk about Rachel’s passing. He hated thinking the woman he loved would never be with him again. He hated to think even after two years of losing her; the pain didn’t seem to get any better. Or worse, he didn’t want to think of the fact that he had finally gotten rid of the only thing that had represented their marriage; his wedding ring.
 
He had sold his wedding ring. For months since his wife’s death, it had forced him to sell a lot of furniture and nearly all the animals on the farm. His crops had died, and he had been forced into debt, having to let go of his farmhands. But, somehow, his wedding band had survived. He knew it was worth a lot of money, but even bankruptcy could not bring him to the desperate state of getting rid of it, for he thought to himself that if he could hold on to it, he would hold on to his dead wife.
 
Until today.
 
Raymond had been so upset and humiliated by Miss Austin’s suggestion to give him money, that he had stormed out of the farm and had driven to town. He hadn’t been thinking when he entered the pawnshop and exchanged his ring for next to nothing to meet the demands of his new bride.
 
He groaned, angry. Why couldn’t Miss Austin be a normal woman? How was it he had to be so unlucky as to have had a flawless, beautiful woman answer his ad?! Why couldn’t he have gotten an unattractive housewife, willing to slave, run a farm and nurse his children back to health?! What was he to do with a woman like Miss Austin, when he had no means of caring for her?
 
Even now, his ring finger felt empty. All of those years, he had endured an empty heart. But he wasn’t certain he could endure an empty finger.
 
“Papa?” she said, pulling him out of his reverie.
 
Raymond raised his gaze to her. “Thank you, Josie.”
 
He waited until she was out of the barn, before falling to his knees on the hay and opening the picnic basket. He pulled out a sandwich, his stomach immediately responding to the sight of it. Lifting it to his mouth in anticipation, he buried his teeth into it, cutting a huge chunk in his mouth. He chewed, savoring the taste of it and enjoying every bite. He stuffed his fingers in his mouth once he finished his sandwich and licked off every grease that could have touched his fingers.
 
Energized and ready to carry on with his work, he worked into the evening, only stopping momentarily when Josie showed up that afternoon with yet another sandwich.
 
That evening, Raymond made his way back into the house, stepping in through the back door. The room was silent and dark, but his vision adjusted easily to the darkness. He found a plate of bacon and a piece of bread seated on the table, exactly where Miss Austin had left his meal the previous night.
 
He took off his shirt and tossed it to the table, tired and sweaty from having to toil on the farm all day. Without bothering to wash his hands, he reached for the bacon.
 
“I thought I heard you come in.”
 
Startled, he jerked upright, almost knocking his plate over to the floor. A curse escaped his lips as he spun to Miss Austin, who stood frozen with a candle in her hands.
 
“I’m sorry,” he grumbled, certain the stunned look on her face resulted from his foul language. He turned back to the plate before him and took a bite of his bacon.
 
“I-” She paused, and he turned to her, confused by the pink dash of color that stained her cheeks, her gaze fixed on something below him. He raised a brow, following her gaze of vision to his bare chest.
 
Embarrassed, he scrambled for his discarded shirt on the table and wore it.
 
“I was, uh…” She rubbed her arm, standing nervously by the side.
 
“Thank you,” he blurted out, desperate for the conversation to move past his near nudity. “Thank you for the sandwich you sent.”
 
She nodded, swallowing. “I thought it would be best if we talked.”
 
Raymond nodded, motioning for her to take a seat. She walked over to him, where he stood by the table and settled on a seat.
 
“What would you like to talk about?” he asked, resettling in his seat.
 
“I thought about this morning, and I would like to apologize. I would also like to know what I can do to help around here.”
 
Her question surprised him as he jerked his head upright. She wanted to help? He watched her, skeptical of her offer. Even with her casual attire, she looked out of place on his dead farm.
 
“Perhaps a vegetable garden? Mother and I used to have one.”
 
It appeared she might not be as useless as he thought. “It sounds like a great idea.” He nodded, taking a sip of his warm cup of coffee.
 
“It also just occurred to me that we are married, but know nothing about each other.”
 
He raised his cup to his lips once more and took a long sip of his coffee.
 
“I barely even know your children and how you got them. Were you married once?”
 
“Hm,” he murmured, rising to his feet and carrying the dirty dishes along.
 
“Oh? That explains it. I would love to know about the children’s mother. Perhaps it might help me understand them fully, enhancing our relationship.”
 
He placed the dishes in the sink, unwilling to have this conversation.
 
“Is she dead? When did she die?”
 
“Miss Austin,” he breathed, staring down at his empty ring finger, “I would love for this conversation to end.”
 
“I wouldn’t want to have a conversation about my dead parents either, but this conversation is inevitable and of great importance, especially for the sake of the children. If I’m to be their new mother…”
 
He turned from the sink then, barely able to stand the conversation as he began making his way out of the back door. He didn’t believe Miss Austin would give up on the topic if he didn’t walk away from it, and he was himself unable to stomach it for much longer. He stepped into the darkness and climbed down the back stairs; the door slamming shut behind him.
 
“Raymond?!”
 
He breathed, slowing down in his tracks.
 
“Didn’t your father teach you never to walk away from a woman?” she called, indignant. He could tell that she stood behind him, but he didn’t think he could turn to look at her. “I’m not a plague, Mr. McAllister. Surely, you do not have to keep avoiding me.”
 
“I’m not avoiding…”
 
“No?” she said, cutting him off. Choosing to sleep on what I assume is an uncomfortable sofa, having breakfast in a barn, sneaking into the house in the middle of the night?
 
“I have to work,” he grumbled, running his hands through his dirty brown hair. He didn’t hear her approaching until she touched his arm. He glanced down, his eyes coming to rest on her dainty fingers with perfectly trimmed fingernails, and all the doubts he had came rushing back—she couldn’t help, there was no way she could help him with the farm, or with the children.
 
“We need to work together if we’re going to remain married.” Her soft whisper beside him caused him to turn fully to her. She withdrew her hand from his arm and lifted it up before him. “Perhaps the first thing we must agree on is that you need a bath,” she offered a small smile, displaying the dirt her hand had gained from his skin.
 
He nodded and without a word; she took his hand and led him back inside. 

Copyright © 2017 Lily Orevba All rights reserved.