Once in a Blue Moon (11 page)

Richard’s heart pounded
hard as he smiled at Hannah, he hoped reassuringly. “Thank you,
everything looks wonderful.” His tone was gentle, but she shot him
an apprehensive glance and practically ran from the room, shutting
the door behind her.

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose and pulled in a lung-
full of air. So far, it was turning out to be a great day. His boss
hated him, a woman was afraid of him, and his wife was a
witch
.

He needed to get out of
there. He headed for the door.

Melissa strolled over
to the window. “I wonder why that widow hired such a pathetic
person. I wouldn’t put up with someone who slinked around like
that. Heck, she even seemed afraid of you, Richard.”

He
didn’t make it outside. Boiling lava raced through his veins and
exploded. Richard turned back and slashed a hand through the air.
“That is
it
! I
have
had
it with
you. You had better start treating the people who live here with
respect! You will be nice to everyone, you will pull your own
weight and you will stop acting in a way that makes me
cringe
!”

The kids stared at him,
eyes wide, bread arrested halfway to their mouths.

Great, not only did he
scare women, but children too.

Richard growled, shook
his head and opened the door.

“I’m going to work.
Stay out of trouble, Melissa.”

“And what am I supposed
to be doing all day while you’re gone playing John Wayne?” Her tone
was shrill.

“Get busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Before you tend the
garden, why don’t you wash the windows and make some curtains,
Princess?”

He slammed the door
shut behind him.

* * *

Melissa walked to the
dirt-streaked window, crossed her arms and watched as Richard
walked away, stiff with anger.

The kids were quiet
behind her, and Melissa kept her back to them as her stomach
wrenched and tears formed in her eyes.

What
the heck had just happened
? What had she
done to deserve his contempt? His cruelty? He hadn’t even listened
when she’d tried to explain that she’d actually
kept
them from getting kicked off
the ranch.

And
to be so mean to her
! Didn’t he realize
what she was going through? Here she was, without her job,
practically stripped of her identity, stuck in this horrible place,
wearing ugly uncomfortable clothes, starving, and desperately in
need of a shower! And what did Richard do? He yelled at
her!

Anger built slowly,
drying the tears trembling on her lashes. It was a power thing. It
had to be. She should have known this would happen. For two days
she’d been the helpless, dependent woman, then bam! He’d started
bossing her around, and telling her what to do, all because he was
making a measly thirty dollars a month.

She’d known since
childhood that money was power.

She watched Richard
turn at the last cabin and pace out of sight. She swivelled away
from the window.

Well, they’d just see,
wouldn’t they? In any century she had skills. She’d get a job too.
Then sit back and watch as Richard’s attitude did a complete turn
around.

Hunger gnawed at her
stomach and she joined the kids at the table and cut herself a
piece of bread, sat down in a crude wooden chair, and broke off a
generous piece of crust. At least it was whole wheat bread and not
white. She took a bite, savored the nutty flavor and chewy texture,
and thought she’d died and gone straight to heaven! It tasted
better than anything she’d ever eaten.

Thirst had her
searching the cabin for a faucet, or even a pump of some kind. No
such luck. How did these people live this way? She rose to check
the heavy teapot-looking-thing on the stove, and when she hefted
it, fluid sloshed. She lifted a crude earthenware mug off one shelf
and poured some water into the cup. Walking to the window she used
the sunlight to check for bugs.

It
looked
clean. She took a tiny sip, just enough to wash the bread
down. It tasted tinny, like it had been soaking in aluminum foil,
but wonderful just the same. She took another sip. Hopefully it had
been boiled; the last thing she needed was to get sick.

She sat back down and
the kids poured themselves some water, pulled up chairs and joined
her. She sliced them each another piece of bread which they
promptly slathered with butter and jam.

Jessica pushed the
condiments across the table. “Want some?”

“No,
thank you.” Melissa looked away. She didn’t want the fat and empty
calories. She just wished she didn’t
want
the fat and empty calories. She
quickly finished her bread and cut another slice. Between them, the
loaf was quickly consumed. Jeremy inspected the shelves for a
moment. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

Melissa stared at him
blankly.

Jeremy’s eyes widened
and he turned to Jessica. “We’re gonna die.”

Jessica laughed.

Feeling better with a full stomach, Melissa rolled her eyes
and smiled. “We’re not going to die.” She stood and inspected the
food supplies. Flour, sugar, salt. She unwrapped a chunk of-- she
recoiled in horror. “What is
this
?”

It looked like some
kind of raw meat. And it was just sitting out on the shelf!

Jessica peered over her
shoulder. “Ham or something? Bacon?”

Melissa quickly re-wrapped it. “Ugh. That is disgusting. It’s
probably rancid.” She inspected a bowl with a thick brown substance
in it. She smelled it. Realization and incredulity dawned at the
same moment. “Grease! Ugh!” She quickly put it back. “What kind of
sick person would put grease in a bowl? And
keep
it?”

With a shudder, she
continued her exploration: a bowl and mixing spoon, some pots and
pans, eggs, a round of white cheese, potatoes, and cans of beans.
How was she supposed to make a meal out of this stuff?

Years
ago, in college, Lean Cuisine and salad had been the staples in her
diet, and that was the extent of her cooking experience. She wasn’t
even sure what a person
could
make from the ingredients here.

And she had a hard time
believing a stove like the one in front of her could do more than
provide heat. She stooped to open the heavy oven door, almost
wrenching her arm as it fell open hard. Ashes layered the bottom.
What was she supposed to do? Throw wood inside and light a match?
And where were the matches anyway? She hadn’t noticed any.

She sighed, shut the
oven door and turned to the kids. “Your father will probably know
how to cook something.”

Jessica crossed her
arms. “If he’s working all day, should he have to come home and
cook too?”

“Should he have to come
home and eat mom’s cooking?” Jeremy countered.

Jessica smiled. “Good
point.”

The kids laughed.

Put some food in them
and they became comedians. Melissa turned away. “I’m not
listening,” she said, her voice singsong. Her gaze fell on the
abandoned feed sack she’d hauled all the way from Sully’s. Enough
sitting around. She needed to get organized and then come up with a
plan of action. Just because she was in a different century, and
just because she’d only be here for three months, didn’t mean she
couldn’t stick with what worked for her. She clapped her hands
together. “Let’s get organized.”

She expected resistance
from the kids, but when she turned they were grinning.

Melissa eyed them.
“What’s so funny?”

“You,” said Jessica
with a sweep of her arm to indicate the cabin. “What are you going
to organize?”

Both kids laughed
again.

A smile tugged at her
mouth, her own mood apparently improved by the food too. “Never you
mind, just follow me.” Melissa picked up the feed sack and pushed
the doorway curtain all the way open on the way into the smaller
room.

The kids followed and
stood in the entrance.

Melissa surveyed the
room. It wasn’t much. A small, short bed with a folded pile of
bedding on it took up almost the entire space, which wasn’t saying
much since the bed was so narrow. A chest sat at the foot of the
bed, there was a window with another ugly curtain, and that was it:
no closet, no dresser, nothing. It was pretty pathetic.

She pulled her few
possessions from the sack: a hideous yellow dress, some stockings,
a ridiculous lace-edged apron, a few handkerchiefs, a cape, some
material, and her own dress, slip and shoes. Oh, the bounty.

She spread open the
material. Several large patches were moth-eaten, making it useless.
So much for making Jessica a dress. She shook her head, opened the
trunk, folded everything and placed the meager possessions inside.
She couldn’t help thinking of her walk-in closet at home, packed
with more clothes than she could ever wear.

She unfolded one of the
sheets and tried to remember the last time she’d made a bed. She
couldn’t. She opened the other sheet. Neither was fitted. She
stared in confusion.

Jeremy grinned. “Need
some help?”

Melissa tried to look
unconcerned. “Yes. Um, why don’t you two do this? And when you’re
done, make your own beds and clean your...er...room.”

The kids exchanged a
sardonic look.

Melissa pretended not
to see it as she walked out of the tiny bedroom and stood in the
middle of the... the living room. The little cabin was
claustrophobic. There was no way she could stay in this place for
three months. No, make that two months, twenty-nine days. She
glanced at the log wall by the front door and wondered if she
should scratch a line in one of the logs, indicating one day of
time served.

She sighed. What she
needed was to quickly get a handle on things and figure out where
she stood. She needed a job, though how she’d get a job in fashion
wearing one of her new dresses, she didn’t know.

She realized she didn’t
even know how far it was to the nearest town. Was it still Garden
City, or did that town exist in the here and now? She had a lot to
think about, and wished she had a pen and some paper to formulate a
plan on. She grimaced. Perhaps she should get a stick and go
outside and write in the dirt.

A knock on the door
broke into her reverie, and hope widened her eyes. Perhaps it was
Richard coming home to apologize? She hurried to the door,
determined to forgive him quickly.

Three young women stood
there, smiles on their faces.

“Hello, I’m Sarah
Mendelson.” The chubby, full-breasted one in the middle seemed to
be the spokesperson. She waved her hand toward a blonde, very
young, shy-looking lady at her side. “This is Emma Rogers,” and she
indicated a third lady, a brunette, with a half-mocking smile on
her other side. “And this is Amanda Dade.”

Sarah smiled widely.
“We’re your neighbors and we’d like to welcome you.” The ladies all
wore the style of the day, but their dresses were prettier and much
more presentable than what Melissa had on.

Melissa’s cheeks
heated. She absolutely hated being the worst dressed. Her chin went
up, but to please Richard, she decided to be agreeable. “How
nice.”

The ladies exchanged a
quick look.

What? Had she been too
abrupt?

Sarah bumped the shy
Emma with her elbow.

Emma met Melissa’s gaze
briefly, then lifted a basket.

“We brought you some
cookies,” she said with a southern twang, her voice barely audible.
She held out a basket of raisin cookies, large and
delicious-looking. The scent of nutmeg drifted up.

Melissa didn’t eat
cookies. And even if she did, she’d already had enough carbs to
last her a while, so it ticked her off that the cookies looked
tempting. Where was her will power today? “No thank you, we don’t
need--”

”Cookies!” Jeremy
exclaimed, pushing past Melissa. “Jessica, get in here!” Jeremy
snatched the basket of cookies, a look of wonder on his face. He
glanced from the cookies to the ladies. “Thank you!” He grinned his
‘I’m so charming grin’, and immediately shoved a cookie in his
mouth. “Ohhhhmmmm. This is so good!”

Jessica came in and
smiled at the ladies. “Hi.” She looked at the cookies. “Oh! These
look great!” She dug in too.

Did they have to look
like they were starving to death? Good grief, they’d just barely
finished eating.

“These are fantastic!”
said Jeremy.

“The best! Thank you!”
said Jessica.

Melissa’s mouth
watered, killing what was left of her good mood.

The three women smiled.
“You’re welcome,” said Sarah.

As one, the women all
stared at Melissa again. There was an uncomfortable silence.

Melissa wondered if she
ought to invite them inside, but decided against it. What would she
offer them? Tin flavored water?

Amanda cleared her
throat. “Our husbands work together.”

The mention of work
captured Melissa’s attention. “Do any of you work?”

Sarah sucked in a
breath of air and her chest puffed out to tremendous proportions.
“I beg your pardon?”

Melissa’s brows rose.
What had she said? Hadn’t she been specific enough? “Do you know if
there is any available work in town?” she said succinctly.

Amanda gave her a
curious stare. She shook her head. “What for?”

Melissa stared at her
blankly. “For employment.”

Emma, the youngest of
the three, gave her a tentative smile.

“Mrs. MacPherson is a
wonderful employer. I’m sure your husband will do well here. You
don’t need to worry.”

The other two
nodded.