Chapter Seven
Early the next morning, Erna tied her bonnet under her chin and joined Joel outside. With a smile lighting up her face, she stepped beside him, ready for their trip to the general store.
“Looks like it’ll be another scorcher,” Joel observed, squinting at the horizon where the sun peeked over, casting long shadows on the dusty road ahead.
“Is it every anything else in the summer in Texas?” Erna asked.
Joel chuckled. “Not really. And I’ve lived here my whole life. It didn’t bother me much when I was little, and I just deal with it. My job is outside, no matter what season it is.”
They ambled along, side by side, the horse’s hooves thudding rhythmically against the compacted earth. As ranches dotted the landscape, it made sense for the store to be nestled among them—like a well at the center of a thirsty circle.
Joel cleared his throat, his hand tightening momentarily on the reins. “We’ll need to be mindful of our spending today, Erna. Just the essentials.”
“Of course, Joel. Flour, sugar, yeast... I’ve got meals planned out for the week.” Her voice was light, but attentive, fingers laced together as if holding the list in her hands.
He glanced over at her, noting the determined set of her jaw. “You won’t hear any complaints from me about tight purse strings. Makes the treats all the sweeter when we do have them.”
“Appreciate that,” he said, relief softening the lines around his eyes. “I just want to make sure we’re set for the coming weeks.”
“Wouldn’t dream of letting us go without,” she assured him.
They rode in silence for a bit before she spoke again. “Joel,” she said, “I saved up for a bit from my job at the bakery—I’ll use it to buy the things I need for the dollhouse. But if we’re running low, I’ve got no qualms using that money for our provisions.”
Joel’s gaze fixed on the road ahead, and a shadow seemed to pass over his face. The offer, so innocently made, had inadvertently struck a chord.
“Erna,” he said, his voice rough like the gravel under their wheels, “that’s kind of you, but it’s not necessary. We’ll manage with what I’ve put aside. Your money should go toward your projects.”
She studied his profile, the strong line of his jaw set firm against any hint of charity. It wasn’t pride that made him refuse—it was something deeper, a profound sense of responsibility he held.
“I didn’t mean to overstep,” she said softly, regret lacing her words. “I just wanted to help is all.”
He met her eyes then, and she saw the embarrassment there, a rare vulnerability that he seldom showed. “No need to apologize. It was a sweet offer, Erna. I just want to take care of things, you know?”
“Of course, I do,” she replied, offering him a smile that held both understanding and respect. As the carriage trundled on, Erna leaned back against the seat, her thoughts turning to the dollhouse and the intricate work that awaited her hands. She felt a quiet determination settle in her heart, a promise to herself that she would find a way to contribute, to make their shared life not just manageable, but abundant.
Joel stopped the wagon and set the brake in front of the store. He got out and helped Erna down. “Do you need my help?” he asked softly.
She shook her head. “No, I think I can handle it.”
He followed her anyway, ready to carry anything she chose to purchase.`
Erna stepped into the general store, her gaze immediately drawn to a corner where rolls of wallpaper stood like soldiers at attention. She picked one, the pattern delicate and subtle—a perfect backdrop for the miniature abode that occupied her dreams and waking hours. She could almost envision the tiny rooms coming to life beneath her careful touch.
“Joel, look at this,” she said, holding up the roll for him to see. “This will make the parlor look so inviting.”
He nodded, a half-smile on his face. “Sure is pretty. Just like you,” he commented, a gentle tease in his voice that made her heart flutter unexpectedly.
She laughed, rolling her eyes at his compliment, but inside, warmth bloomed. Her fingers brushed over the selection of paints, settling on a soft ivory and a pale rose hue, also choosing a white paint for the outside of the house, and a brown for the cabinets. “And these will complement it just right.”
“Sounds good, Erna. Just remember our budget now,” Joel reminded gently, not wanting to dampen her spirits but aware of their financial constraints.
“I know,” she replied with a nod. She added a few tiny scraps of lace and a swath of fabric for curtains to her basket, her mind already sewing them together in intricate patterns. As she calculated the cost, a pang of guilt tugged at her. “I can’t keep spending like this,” she murmured, more to herself than to Joel. “Cassandra would have some ideas. I’ll speak with her soon.”
Joel merely squeezed her shoulder in silent support, his presence a steady comfort beside her.
Turning her attention to the foodstuffs, Erna began to peruse the shelves with an eagle eye. Flour, sugar, a bit of salt pork—she tallied prices and measured quantities against the meals she planned in her head. The kitchen at home was her domain, where she conjured simple yet hearty fare that filled the belly and warmed the soul.
“Beans are on sale,” she noted, adding a sack to the basket.
