B00BWX9H30 EBOK Page 3

  “May I have some?” she asked Martha.

  “Of course, honey. Here, let me get you a bowl.” Martha opened a cupboard to the left of the sink in the corner. Ella saw plates and bowls in the cabinet.

  “Do you mind if I look in the cabinets? I need to know where everything is.”

  “No. Go on ahead and look all ya want. This is yer house now, too. The dishes are in the upper cabinets and pots and pans in the lower one. We have fifteen men we feed in here along with you, me and Nathan. It gets to be quite boisterous.”

  “You must use the dining room. The table here isn’t large enough.”

  “Yeah. Nathan says everyone is family and family eats in the dining room. I’ll have you help me with dinner. It will help you get familiar better than just looking in cabinets.” She bustled about grabbing a bowl from one of the cabinets and a spoon from a drawer under the counter. She quickly filled it with the savory stew from the large pot on the stove.

  “I knew I was going to like you, Martha. And you never flinched when you saw my scars. Why? Everyone except Nathan, has at least flinched when they see the scars on my face. Why didn’t you?”

  Martha handed her a bowl. “There’s all kinds of scars, honey. Inside and out. I’ve seen Nathan’s scars. Yours are not different to me. Just part of the life you’ve had.”

  “Scars? From what? What kind of scars?”

  “Those are questions best answered in the privacy of your bedroom. You can ask him yerself.”

  Ella closed her eyes and knew she blushed. “Of course. How rude of me.”

  “Not at all. Ya need to ask questions to learn.” She pulled a chair out from under the small work table. “Now sit down and eat. I ken hear yer stomach growl from here. I’ll have ta get after Nathan fer that.”

  “Get after Nathan for what?” he said from the doorway.

  “For not feedin’ yer bride. She’s starving. Listen to her stomach.”

  Now it was Nathan’s turn to blush. He bowed his head and ran his hand around his neck before he looked up at Ella. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. Are you alright? Is Martha feeding you enough?”

  “I’m fine. But you need to eat as well, you haven’t eaten either.”

  “You’re right.” He got a bowl and heaped it with the steaming stew. Then he pulled biscuits from the bread box. “Would you like some?” He held up a biscuit.

  “Oh, yes, please.” She turned to Martha. “The stew is delicious. Thank you.”

  Martha blushed under the praise, but brushed it off. “It’s easy ta make, I’ll show ya tomorrow. Today you should rest from your trip.”

  “Actually, after we finish eating, I need an iron and ironing board, if you have one.”

  “They’re in the pantry. But if ya bring me what ya want pressed, I’ll do it. Our iron doesn’t heat properly and it would be best if I do it for ya.”

  “But I need to learn. I’ll be back down after we finish and you can show me how it’s done.”

  “I’m finished,” said Nathan as he rose from the table and took his dishes to the sink. “I’ve got chores to finish before supper.” He bent and gave Ella a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the kitchen whistling.

  Ella touched her cheek where he kissed it, expecting to find it burning to the touch. Instead, it was cool and she only burned on the inside.

  “Okie dokie. If that’s what ya want,” said Martha.

  “What?” said Ella, giving her head a shake to clear it and remember what she and Martha had been talking about. “Oh, yes, It is. The sooner I start learning how to do things for myself, the better. I don’t want you to have to take care of me in addition to everyone else here.”

  “That’s kind of ya, but unnecessary. It’s my job to take care of everyone including you. And I like my job. Besides, have ya ever ironed anything before?”

  Ella shook her head. “No. But I watched our maids do it once.”

  “You can watch me. After that, if ya still want to try it, I’ll let ya try it on a dish towel before ya do yer clothing.”

  “Why on a dish towel? Do you iron those?”

  “Nope. But if you burn it, it won’t matter none.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll go get my clothes.”

  When Ella got back, Martha had the ironing board set up and the iron on the stove to heat.

  “How long do you let it heat?”

  “The first time, when it’s cold out of the cupboard, I leave it on the stove for five minutes. After that no longer than two minutes and that will depend on what I’m ironing.” She touched her finger to the iron. “Okay, it’s good and hot. Give me your skirt first.”

  Ella handed over the bombazine skirt. It was terribly wrinkled and probably needed the most work of any of her clothes. Martha made short work of it. Sprinkling it with water from a mason jar with tiny holes poked in the top, then running the hot iron over it, she never let the iron rest in one place for more than a second.

  After she practiced on a dishtowel to Martha’s satisfaction, Ella tried it with the blouse and it worked. She also had a skirt, blouse, chemise and bloomers that needed washing. “Martha, do you know how to do laundry or do you send it out?”

  Martha choked on a laugh. “Send it out? You are from the city. Honey, we don’t send nothin’ out for…nothin’. If we can’t do it here, it don’t get done. Tomorrow is laundry day. You kin help me and see how it works. The day after that is ironin’ day. I’ll let you do that since ya know how now. Then there’s the cooking that has to be done three times a day, everyday. Not much time for anything, but work. Now that you’re here, maybe I can get a day off.”

  Ella was aghast. “You don’t get a day off? Surely you jest.”

  “Why would I ‘jest’ about that? There’s work to be done and if I don’t do it, it don’t get done. Nathan and the men have their own work to do. I can’t expect them to take over my chores because I want a day off.”

  “Yes, of course,” Ella felt totally ashamed of herself. They’d always had Sundays off for all the servants. She wasn’t used to them not having some time for themselves. Of course, they always had plenty of servants to cover for one another if they were sick or needed personal time. One of the other maids could always take over. Ella had learned to cook for Sunday meals, as Cook had the day off to visit her sister.

  “I can cook a little,” said Ella. “I’ve never cooked for such a large number of people, but I can increase the recipes. I make a very good Yorkshire pudding to go with my roast beef, if you’d like to try that one night.”

  “I’m more than happy to have ya cook whatever ya please. What is it anyway? Some sort of sweet dessert?”

  “No, it’s a baked side dish made with beef drippings and served with roast beef. It’s very good.”

  Martha finished with the potatoes she was peeling. “You can fix it tonight if ya want. We be havin’ a roast beef fer dinner. I got potatoes, green beans and carrots I canned last year and peach cobbler fer dessert.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’ll check the larder. I only need eggs, milk, flour, salt and beef drippings.”

  Martha wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, we got all that so I guess yer cooking some of supper tonight.”

  “Thank you, Martha.”

  “Fer what? Lettin’ ya help me with my work? That’s my pleasure. Now, you go rest until I call for ya to help. Your trip was long and your night will be even longer.”

  Ella cocked her head in question, but took her freshly pressed clothes to the bedroom and hung them in the closet. Then she looked at the other bedrooms. One of them would have to be turned into a closet for the clothes that were coming and a sewing room. She may not do much of anything else as far as housekeeping, but she could sew. Her nanny had loved to sew. She passed that love on to Ella. She made all of her own clothes.

  It wasn’t fashionable for a society woman to sew, but it had saved Ella’s sanity after the accident. When she couldn’t go out in society without a veil, she spent
a lot of time at home. There was only so much reading she could do without going crazy, so she sewed. By the time she’d left for Golden, she had an entirely new wardrobe. She hadn’t ever worn most of the clothes that were in the trunks that were coming.

  Excited about something now, she checked the closet with Nathan’s shirts. She could make him a new shirt. Maybe one in blue to go with his eyes. That would be on her list when they went to town.

  She went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed suddenly very tired. It was as though all the excitement of the day came crashing down on her at once.

  When she woke the sun was low in the sky, dusk setting in. Nathan came into the bedroom, hat in hand. He tossed it on the hat tree next to the door.

  “I wondered where you were. I’m glad you were able to rest. Martha said you’re making some of supper tonight so I thought I should check on you,” he said.

  “Yes, supper.” She put her feet over the side of the bed and stretched as she got up. “I didn’t think I needed to rest, but it does seem to have revived me. Now to supper, at home we would have called it dinner.”

  “Here dinner is at noon or one o’clock and supper is in the evening. You’ll get used to the different names for things. I did.”

  “You? But weren’t you raised here?”

  “No, my father was from Philadelphia. A lawyer out here for a hunt. To make a long story short, he met and fell in love with my mother, but my grandfather, my mother’s father, refused to let them marry. Father went back to Philadelphia not knowing Mother was pregnant with me. When he returned a year later and found out, he again wanted to marry her, but she had already married my stepfather.”

  “So, why did your father wait so long to take you with him?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “It was an agreement they made. Father was adamant that I learn both worlds. It was agreed that when I was fifteen I would go with him. He came every year, so it wasn’t like he was a stranger to me. It was difficult, but he overcame all the obstacles, not the least of which was my grandfather, in order to be with me. In the end, because I was a man, it was my choice to go with my father. I could have refused, despite the agreement that was made.”

  “He sounds like a good man.”

  “He is. That’s why I went with him. Why I chose to know the people he is a part of.”

  “Your father is still living?”

  “Yes. Still in Philadelphia and he still comes out every year. He’ll be coming back in a couple of months.”

  “Does he know you married?”

  “Not yet. Figured I’d surprise him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be surprised when he sees me. He’ll wonder if you were blind when you said ‘I do’.”

  Nathan took a deep breath. “I wish you would not disparage yourself so. I’ve told you, you are a beautiful woman.”

  “And I know better.” She circled the air in front of her face with her hand. “I see this face in the mirror every day. I remember the reactions of the people who saw me the first time I went out after my bandages were removed. There was horror on their faces and in their eyes. That’s how most people see me, Nathan. I don’t understand why you don’t.”

  He stood to the side of the door never really coming into the room. Now he leaned onto the door jamb. “And everyone sees me as a breed, a savage. My mother’s people are not savages. I’m as much a savage as you are.”

  She smiled hesitantly, her hands locked in the shirt she held. “I can see that. I have to admit I read some dime novels on the way here and they may have clouded my judgment, some.”

  He shook his head in disgust. But there was something else in his eyes. Was it fear? Did he think she’d believe those novels? Did she?

  “I can only imagine what’s in those things. Exaggerations at best and outright lies at worst. I would bet more of the latter.”

  Ella fingered the shirt she’d brought out of the closet. “I’m sure you’re right. I wanted to ask you if I can borrow one of your shirts.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to make you a shirt and I need it for measurements. I can make a pattern from it.”

  “You sew?” Then he got a twinkle in his eye and said, “I thought all spoiled rich girls did was drink tea with their pinkie in the air.”

  “Oh, I do that too.” She held her pinkie in the air like she had a cup of tea and laughed. “But I like to sew. I’d also like to take the bedroom closest to the foyer and turn it into a sewing room and a place to put some of the things that will arrive with my trunks.”

  He leaned against the door jam, his arms crossed in front of him. “How many trunks are you expecting?”

  “Six. Assuming Joshua didn’t add anything.”

  “Six! How many clothes do you have?”

  She shook her head. “Oh no, it’s not just clothes, though there are plenty of those. It’s quilts and bed linens and my mother’s china, my entire hope chest. That’s another reason I want that room. So I’ll have some place to put it all until I get it put away in the house.”

  She couldn’t help but admire him, looking relaxed with his shirt sleeves rolled up revealing strong tanned forearms. Arms that could hold her and wrap her in the warmth even the affection she so craved.

  “So serious. What are you thinking, Ella?” He pushed away from the door and came to her. He took his knuckle and raised her chin until she looked at him. “I won’t hurt you.” Then he kissed her. He didn’t touch her with anything but his lips and that one hand which had managed to somehow work its way behind her head and hold her while he kissed her. She stood there, frozen in place by the feel of his lips on hers. Why was it she forgot everything when he kissed her?

  He broke off and rested his forehead against hers. “You sorely tempt me, Ella.” He turned and walked out of the room leaving her still feeling his kiss all the way to her toes.

  * * *

  He’d missed her again. Taking out Father was a good thing and, if it had worked, it would have killed her too, but it didn’t. She survived the accident. He’d been unable to get to her after that. Too many people around her all the time.

  Regardless, he would find her. Then she would die and he’d be that much closer to owning Davenport Shipping. He could prove his lineage; Father had given him the documents on his last birthday, just before the accident, finally acknowledging him. It had been his mother’s last wish and Father couldn’t deny her. Father had felt guilty, after all these years and the woman he loved was dying so he relented. But Daniel didn’t want to share. He wanted it all. He deserved it all.

  Now, however, his new target was preparing to go to the office. He had those two bodyguards with him all the time. No matter. Bodyguards could be bought. He just needed the right persuasion. He would find the Achilles heel for each one of the guards. After they were out of the way, taking care of his little brother, Joshua, would be easy, then all that would stand in his way was Ella. Dear, sweet, ugly Ella. Before he killed Joshua, he needed to find out where Ella went. He knew she’d left. He’d gotten that much from the maid he was sleeping with. The things he did. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. She was a pretty little thing. A nice whore, just like all women. Made for only one thing…a man’s pleasure.

  He laughed thinking about Ella. She’d gone from beautiful swan to ugly duckling in a few lucky strokes of wood from the carriage. But not lucky enough. It hadn’t killed her. That damn carriage fell apart and she hadn’t died. No, instead they’d found her in the rubble and stitched her back together. It had taken her months to heal. Months when she didn’t leave the house. Then, miraculously, she started leaving, walking, always walking, and wearing a heavy veil, one you couldn’t see through. Hiding her once beautiful face.

  Then, finally, his luck seemed to have turned. He saw trunks being loaded into a delivery wagon. He followed it to the train station.

  He went up to the freight master. “Where are these trunks headed?”

  “Golden City.”

 
“Where is that?”

  “Colorado Territory. A way out west.”

  “How long will it take them to get there?”

  “If there are no delays, it’ll take ’em seven days. But we only guarantee ’em in ten.”

  He thanked the man and handed him two dollars for his trouble and his silence. Joshua would wait. Time to buy a ticket to Golden City, Colorado Territory. Seven days on the train was not something he looked forward to.

  Shaking his head he thought, “The things I do for…my rightful place in society.”

  * * *

  Supper was a success. Everyone liked her Yorkshire pudding. Even she was pleased with the way it turned out. It was getting late. She and Nathan retired to the parlor after supper. She told him about her life before the accident.

  “I was the belle of the ball. My dance card was always full and I had lots of girlfriends, too. Until the accident. Oh, they came to see me in the hospital and even at home while the bandages were safely on. Once the scars were visible, they stopped coming. Fear kept them away. Fear they would have to be seen with me if they kept coming around.” She was bitter and couldn’t keep it out of her voice, though she tried.

  They sat before the fire in two leather covered wing chairs. Nathan held his hand out to her and she put hers in his. “They couldn’t have been very good friends if they let something like scars scare them away.”

  “Oh, I agree with you. I thought they were good friends, but I was proved wrong. They were only my friends while I was popular.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I won’t let you go because of your scars. They don’t scare me or repulse me. Do you understand? Your scars are a part of you, no different to me than your brandy eyes.”

  She’d tried to get the chair on the left so he wouldn’t see her scars while they were sitting. Somehow, he’d known what she was about and sat in the chair first. Her scars faced him the whole time they talked and now when he was being so sweet. But she didn’t dare trust his word. She’d been burned by too many people. People she thought cared for her. Friends. Beaus.

  “It’s late and we should go to bed. Morning comes early,” said Nathan.