“Barbara,” Harvey began, his voice low and gentle, “I think we’re both nervous about tonight.”
She met his gaze, finding reassurance in the warm brown of his eyes. “Yes, but I trust you, Harvey. We’ll figure it out together.”
The candlelight flickered as he reached for her hand. Their fingers entwined. With a deep breath, Barbara stood, leading Harvey to the portion of the cabin where the new bedding awaited them, crisp and inviting.
They undressed each other slowly, fumbling with buttons and laces, laughter mingling with their sighs. Neither of them had any experience with what they were about to do, and Barbara was thankful for all the talks her mother had with her about what was to come.
In the quiet seclusion of their cabin, they explored each other’s bodies with wonder and an eagerness to please. Kisses were planted like seeds of love over skin, and touches grew bolder and more confident as instincts guided them.
Underneath the quilt, their bodies joined. The sensations were intense, startling in their pleasure. They moved together, a rhythm born of mutual discovery, each cresting wave of ecstasy erasing any remnants of uncertainty.
In the aftermath, they lay entangled, Harvey’s strong arms cradling Barbara close. Her head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart—a drumming as constant as the land itself.
“Barbara,” Harvey whispered, “I’ve never been happier than I am right now with you.”
“Nor I with you,” she replied. They fell asleep with their arms and bodies entwined, each of them certain they’d made the right decision for their mutual futures.
Chapter Four
Barbara woke the following morning, not remembering where she was. She could feel a presence in her bed beside her, which wasn’t something she was used to at all. After a moment, she remembered she was married now, and she slipped from beneath the covers, careful not to disturb Harvey. She moved about the small cooking area with quiet efficiency, reaching for the flour and lard to begin breakfast.
The rustling of sheets signaled Harvey’s awakening. Barbara glanced over her shoulder to see him sit up, his dark hair tousled from sleep, eyes still heavy but alert. His gaze met hers, and a half-smile crept onto his face. Her heart jumped at that smile because it meant he was happy with their decision.
She was happy as well…at least she had been the night before. The cold reality that came with the morning was like an ice-cold bucket of water over her head. What had she done? As much as she loved Harvey, she couldn’t give up her relationship with her parents.
“Morning,” he grumbled.
“Good morning,” she replied.
He dressed swiftly, knowing there was work to be done as there was every morning. He was just thankful someone was working with him now.
“Need help with anything before I head out to milk?” Harvey asked.
“No, thank you. I can manage,” she said. Her hands were steady, though inside, a tumult of questions threatened to spill forth. Could she truly manage this new role as a wife, a farmer’s wife with no help from her parents? Her sisters and brother still went to her parents when they needed help with something, but she wouldn’t have that privilege.
Harvey pulled on his work boots. With a final glance at Barbara, he said, “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t eat all the breakfast without me.”
Barbara set down a plate of golden-brown pancakes beside a dish of scrambled eggs. Harvey walked in, and washed his hands at the basin, scrubbing away the traces of the barn. The simple meal was a feast of sorts, marking their first morning as man and wife, and she watched with a mix of pride and nerves as he took his first bite.
“Barbara, this is wonderful,” Harvey said, his voice rich with genuine appreciation. She caught the twinkle in his brown eyes and felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the stove’s heat.
“Thank you, Harvey. I wanted our first breakfast to be special,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she sat across from him.
As they ate, the silence between them was comfortable, filled with shared glances and the clinking of cutlery on plates. It wasn’t until they were nearly done that Harvey cleared his throat, signaling he had something on his mind.
“I think today I’ll start mending the fences out by the north pasture. Then there’s the matter of checking the traps down by the creek. Winter’s coming, and we need to be ready,” he laid out his plans methodically.
Barbara nodded. “I’ll be teaching the children some history in preparation for their test tomorrow. Maybe some geography if time allows,” she said.
Harvey’s fork paused mid-air, and a frown creased his forehead. “Barbara, I’m not sure I like the idea of you working, even just until the regular teacher comes back,” he admitted.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she held his gaze. “Why not?” she asked.
“It’s just…” Harvey began. “You’re a married woman now. Folks might talk, say it’s not proper.”
“Harvey, I gave Mrs. Thompson my word I’d teach, and I intend to keep it. The children need their learning, and I won’t let them down.” Her resolve was firm. “Besides, we knew this life wouldn’t be easy. I’m no wilting flower; you know that better than anyone.”
He studied her for a long moment, the lines of his face softened by the early morning light. Finally, he nodded, a gesture of reluctant acceptance. “I guess I do know,” he conceded. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, Barbara.”
