Keturah visibly swallowed.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I do not expect anything tonight. I told you that I knew love would take time to grow. I expect everything else will comealong with it in time. Tonight, I only wish to share a warm bed with my new wife… if you are amenable to that.”
Keturah glanced from him to the bed and back, her foot fidgeting under her petticoats, swishing the fabric against his leg while her grip on the broom remained steadfast. Finally, she gave him a nod. He reached out and carefully eased the broom handle from her hand. He returned it to where it had been propped beside the hutch. But when he turned back around, his wife had disappeared.
Daniel sighed. Maybe he really had failed in some way serious enough that Keturah did not wish to even share her bed with him. Should he find another arrangement? Lay some quilts upon the floor? Maybe that would show Keturah that he was earnest in giving her time and space. He sighed and moved to the chest at the end of the bed. It seemed his nights on the hard ground were not over. But he would do what it took, for his wife. He pulled several quilts from the chest and placed them on the ground, then began to ready for bed.
Keturah opened the door and stopped at the sight of him shedding his vest. “Are ye not goin’ to sleep in the bed?” Her brows lowered.
“I thought you did not want…”
Keturah shook her head. “I only went to tend to personal matters.” Her voice was stern and defensive.
Daniel sighed. Him and his propensity to jump toconclusions. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “That makes sense. I am sorry.”
He started to fold the quilts and was surprised when Keturah came over to help him. When she brought her end of the partially folded blanket up to meet his, she met his gaze. His heart picked up its pace as he took in her sun-freckled face. Slowly, he reached out and brushed a curl away. Maybe love would truly grow, if only he and wife could convene on the same page.
May 19, 1782
Keturah looked up at the sky as she stopped pulling timber from the wreckage of the barn to drag an arm across her forehead. The sun had nearly reached its peak, and still she worked alone. Anger surged through her, fueling her ability to lift the heavy beams. Beams which she should have assistance in moving.
Not only had she already toiled for hours planting corn that morning, but now she worked to clear rubble so the barn could be rebuilt in the same location. All the while, her husband continued to slumber. Was a woman supposed to summon her husband from bed? Keturah dropped the broken beam on the ground several feet away and frowned.
Her only experience with such mattershad come from observing her parents. And her mother had never had to rouse her father. If he had not awakened to the smell of breakfast cooking, it had indicated an illness that kept him bedridden. In fact, while Keturah was nearly always the first to stir, the rest of her family had never been long behind her. As soon as the sun had risen over the horizon, the entire Elliot clan would soon be awake if they were not already.
Keturah smiled at the memory of working alongside her mother in the garden one day before the move, back in Virginia. The dew had lingered on the tomatoes and squash as they picked them. As they worked, the sun had cut through the mist with its bright, warm rays, replacing the muggy morning with a stifling hot day. There was something special about experiencing those first precious hours of the day. To watch a new beginning, blessed by the Lord.
Last night, after Daniel had been so understanding in giving her the time and space she needed, while butterflies fluttered in her stomach, she had felt that same hope for her marriage. If only she could recapture that feeling now.
Back at the debris pile, she attempted to lift another timber. But as she stood with the squared-off log hoisted onto her shoulder, she swayed. Whether her husband arose to join her or not, she needed sustenance to continue working. Keturah dropped the beam back into the rubble before she swiped her arm across her forehead again. Then she rubbed herhands down her aproned front and turned toward the house.
Entering the stuffy cabin, she propped the door open wide to allow the sunshine and a breeze to filter through. She threw open the shutters covering the windows. Though it was still May, the day had proven to be quite warm.
Plus, her soul needed light and fresh air. Keturah had never preferred remaining shut inside in the dark cabin while her brother and father were free to work outside. It had been another reason time spent in the garden with her mother had been so precious. She had even found joy in the times when she and Ma would labor over the washtub outside on a nice day. There was simply something about the sunshine that fed her soul.
Keturah glanced to where her husband remained in bed, his arm flopped above his head. Collecting two plates from the hutch her father had built, she settled them onto the table with a clatter. The man did not move a muscle. In fact, a contented snore arose from the bed.
Keturah’s hands went to her hips. Then she turned her attention to the uneaten plate of breakfast still waiting on the table. Should she make him a cold sandwich when there was already food available to him? It seemed such a waste to let the meal spoil. But at least the pig would enjoy the treat. Dutifully, she sliced bread and ham for both plates before dusting her hands on her apron and looking at her husband once more.
She marched across the room to the bedside, and though she had already done so several times that morning, laid a hand on his forehead. Reassured that he had not taken ill, she bent and gave the man’s slumbering form a shake. “Daniel,” she all but yelled.
He jerked awake and glanced about wide-eyed. “Wha-what is it?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then looked around again as he sat up, as though there must be some danger for her to awaken him so.
“What is it? It is nearly noon!”
Daniel blinked up at her. “I am so sorry, Keturah. You should have awakened me.” He stood, shirtless, and placed a hand on her arm as he looked down into her face, his eyes full of apology. The same strange sensation from the night before settled into her middle.
“I was not sure if ye would want me to.” She offered her own sort of apology.
“Yes, please. I must have been tired from our journey, but I do not wish to pose any inconvenience to you or leave you without the help you need. We have a farm to save.” He flashed that bright smile of his, the one that had caught her attention and pulled her closer from that first day.
“Aye. We do,” she agreed, hope working its way back into her heart. The day was not a complete loss, after all. There were still plenty of hours before dark for her and Daniel to work alongside one another, clearing the rubble.
Daniel squeezed her arm affectionately before shestepped away, giving him one last lingering look. Taking in the sight of her new husband shirtless, with his dark hair mussed from sleep, her insides swirled. He certainly was a handsome man, not rotund in the slightest or scruffy as her father had been.
But would that be enough? While an attraction between husband and wife should ease the union, Daniel had already proven that he might be as much hindrance as help. Keturah sighed. She should not judge the man so harshly. It would take time for him to learn the intricacies of frontier life. But he was willing and eager. Was that not what mattered the most? A person could learn what they did not know. And if love grew between them…
The corner of her mouth tipped upward at the thought.
