Frontier Want Ad Bride. Lyn Cote

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      Asa nodded politely. “Doing fine, ma’am.” He touched Judith’s elbow and then turned and left. Saved by the storekeeper’s wife. She’d talk Judith’s ear off, and perhaps that would satisfy his wife’s desire for ready conversation.

      * * *

      Bolstered by his touch and being greeted as a wife, not a pitied spinster, Judith smiled at Mrs. Ashford. “I’m here to buy some spices. I guess bachelors use only salt and pepper.”

      “You give Ned your list, then come on up,” the woman instructed. “Your sister and I are just finishing up a few chores and have time for a chat.”

      Judith watched the woman head up the back stairs. She went to the counter and handed the storekeeper her list. After discussing the items as to quantities and specifics, she followed Mrs. Ashford.

      How was spontaneous and lively Emma faring living with these strangers, and was she upset her intended had not been here to meet her? Judith also craved a private chat with Emma about her puzzlement over Asa. She hoped that Mrs. Ashford would grant her and Emma a few moments alone to talk.

      Judith found that a vain hope.

      Mrs. Ashford poured them all fresh, steaming coffee and then sat at the head of the dining table. Judith had been given the seat with the view out the windows toward the river. She watched a steamboat heading toward the Pepin pier. “I love your view.”

      “Yes, I told Mr. Ashford to build on this side of Main Street. I wanted a good view. The forest can be so forbidding. Plus if the river ever floods, we’ll be on higher ground. The shops across the street are much too close to the river.”

      Judith glimpsed the blacksmith’s sign across and to her right. That’s where Asa was. Her heart tightened. Something was trapped within Asa and she didn’t know what. He was like a parcel glued and tied shut. Was this just due to their being strangers to one another? Yes, that must be it, she hoped.

      “Now, how is it going with you and Mr. Brant?” the storekeeper’s wife asked the very question Judith could not quite figure out herself.

      And what did the woman expect her to say? “He won’t talk to me and I can’t figure out why”? “We’re doing fine. Just getting to know each other. Asa is so considerate.” But secretive. Or maybe not. Maybe men just didn’t talk much about themselves. But why can’t he even tell me how many brothers and sisters he has or the name of his hometown? Judith pushed this out of her mind and hoped her expression revealed nothing.

      Mrs. Ashford was staring at her, obviously wanting more details about the newlyweds.

      Casting around for a safe subject, Judith lifted her cup in front of her face. “Mr. Brant—Asa—presented me with a sewing machine for a wedding gift.”

      “I know!” Mrs. Ashford crowed. “I helped him choose it from the catalogue for you. Such a thoughtful gift, and so useful.”

      Judith agreed, interrupting the flow of the woman’s conversation.

      “It’s too bad the weather has been so cold. We usually have a lovely spring here in Pepin.” Their hostess kept up a steady stream of chatter, to which she and Emma merely had to agree.

      Judith was aware that her sister was trying to hide mirth at Mrs. Ashford’s curiosity and constant chattering. Emma possessed a ready and sometimes inappropriate sense of humor. Judith sent her a reproving glance.

      Emma bit her lower lip.

      Judith thought, Please, can’t I have a moment alone with my sister?

      As if Mrs. Ashford heard Judith’s thought, she rose from the table. “I need to brown the beef for lunch and start it cooking. Please excuse me.”

      Judith drew in a relieved but silent breath.

      Emma muffled a giggle behind her hand.

      Judith scolded and quizzed her sister with a glance.

      “She never stops talking,” Emma whispered, “unless she’s eating or sleeping.”

      Judith lifted her hands in a gesture that said What can I do about that?

      “She’s really nice and kind, but I have trouble not teasing her. I don’t think she’d appreciate it.” Emma’s expression became serious. “How are you doing? What’s worrying you?”

      Though she and Emma weren’t identical twins, they had always been attuned to each other. “It’s nothing, really.” Judith spoke in a low tone. “It’s just that Asa...avoids everyday questions. I asked him if he had brothers and sisters and he said, ‘Some of each.’”

      Emma laughed.

      Judith glared at her. “It’s not funny. We get along very well unless I ask him a personal question.”

      “Perhaps he’s just a very private person,” Emma suggested.

      “Even with his wife?”

      “His very new wife. Just give it time, Judith.” Emma pressed a hand over Judith’s, which clutched her coffee cup.

      Judith nodded. Her sister had given her good advice. She relaxed her hands. “What are you keeping busy doing?”

      “I help with some chores, and yesterday I helped in the store. Mr. Ashford did it out of kindness, I think, to give me a chance to talk to someone besides his wife and daughter. The people here are really—”

      They heard the sound of rapid footsteps and then Mr. Ashford called from the back door, “Katherine! You’ll never believe this!”

      Both Judith and Emma turned to see the storekeeper hurry into the room and over to the front window. Mrs. Ashford bustled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “What is it?”

      Mr. Ashford waved a paper. “This is his letter of resignation, and there he goes. He’s getting on the boat! I can’t believe it!”

      “Who?” Mrs. Ashford said, joining her husband at the window. “That’s Mr. Thompson, the schoolmaster!”

      “Yes! He just resigned!”

      “What?” Mrs. Ashford squawked. “He can’t leave in the middle of the school year!”

      “Well, there he goes,” Emma said. She’d moved to stand beside the Ashfords at the window.

      “What got into him?” the storekeeper’s wife asked.

      Mr. Ashford frowned down at the letter. “It just says he must go home because of a personal crisis.”

      “What will we do come Monday? Who will teach?” Mrs. Ashford wailed.

      “We can’t ask Mrs. Lang. She’s busy with her little ones.” The storekeeper stared out the window. Then he swung to Emma. “Miss Jones, will you please take over downstairs? I need to go to Noah Whitmore and Martin Steward, the other school board members, right away.”

      “Of course,” Emma agreed. “I СКАЧАТЬ