Whirlwind (26 page)

“No doubt, your mother puts important things like that on her list.” Daniel tallied up the goods. “Women speak with their husbands about such matters. It makes for a solid, happy marriage. This comes to three dollars, two cents, Mrs. Richardson. Would you like me to put that on your account?”

“Yes, please. Girls, take this on out to the buckboard.” The girls gleefully scooped up their booty and left. Mrs. Richardson turned back around. “We already discussed the Gramophone and want to purchase it. Isabelle, can you copy a wedding dress? Both girls want to wear my gown, and if you could do that . . .”

“I’d have to see it.”

“I reckoned you’d say that. Sydney will bring it over. What with the land deal and all, it’s a wonder I can keep my head on straight.”

“Land deal?” Daniel gave her a puzzled look.

Mrs. Richardson covered her mouth and colored. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” She looked around, then like a child who couldn’t bear to keep a secret, she blurted out, “Leopold Volkner—Marcella’s intended—had a farm next to Jakob and Annie’s old homestead. Their land is far more fertile. Jakob came to us and proposed a trade: He would give us the land and house for Marcella as a wedding gift if we’d deed him the acreage we’ve left fallow for the past two years that adjoins his property. With Annie having a son, he must want him to have land for a farm of his own someday—but I think he wants to surprise her, so please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Isabelle promised.

“It’s hard to keep secrets from a wife,” Daniel said.

Mrs. Richardson giggled like a girl. “Of course you can tell Millie. I’d never expect a man to hide anything from his wife!” With that she was off, leaving Daniel feeling worse than before—if that were possible.

A moment later, Millicent descended the stairs—completely encased in that cage once again. “A quick word, dear.” Daniel crossed off number seventeen on his list. “All the paint is lined up out on the back porch. Selecting the colors for our rooms must be done. Would you care to have a hand in the choice?”

“I’d love to! Let me go fetch Arthur first.” She drew close and murmured, “Isabelle’s not eating well. If I bring Arthur over, we could have them share some of those new Fig Newtons and milk.”

Arthur babbled merrily as he ate his cookies, then tagged along with Millicent out to the porch. Daniel thought choosing paint colors would be a straightforward, five-minute task; an hour later, she delightedly called him and Isabelle outside.

Arthur wore no less than nine shades of paint on his chubby arms, and Millicent had a speck on her cheek. A variety of old discarded cans dotted the entire porch, all now containing a mere dab of paint that she’d mixed. Topknot sliding one way and apron slipping the other, Millicent held up a gallon of green paint. “Daniel, what do you think of this?”

It’s an absurd mess.
He opened his mouth to tell her so, but the pleasure in her eyes stopped him. “Nice.”

Beaming, she set it down and tapped a gallon beside it. “I thought eggshell would complement moss. Then, with the leftover yellow paint, I thought I might repaint Arthur’s toy box. It got horribly scratched up on the way here.”

Daniel surveyed the porch more thoroughly. Why women gave colors all those strange names was beyond him. She’d concocted at least two dozen shades—but he far preferred the one she’d settled upon.

Isabelle looked at them, too. “These will dry up. If we save them, I can reconstitute them with a drop of turpentine. I could paint birds and trees on the toy box if you’d like.”

After she’d fallen apart just last evening, Daniel recognized she was signaling she’d regained her equilibrium. “Capital idea. Our home will look grand indeed, ladies.” Securing lids back on the paint, he said, “It’ll be ready for you to move in tomorrow, as planned.”

“There we go!” Millicent’s enthusiasm astonished him. Wheeling around, Daniel realized she was talking to Arthur. She’d soaked the corner of a rag with turpentine and cleaned the paint from his little arms. “Daniel, could you please carry Arthur upstairs now?”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready to move. It’s on your list.”

Millicent reached up and secured her hair as she bobbed her head. “Indeed.”

“Then why would you go upstairs?”

“Because the kitchen cupboards must be scrubbed out, the walls washed, and the wood polished. Then the mirrors and gas lamps . . .” Millicent rattled off a list, and her sister chimed in on other details.

Left to their own devices, they would scrub the place until the building was whittled down to a toothpick. Daniel knew how to limit them. “I budgeted only this afternoon for move preparation. The schedule won’t allow any more time.”

“Daniel,” Millicent said, trying to hide her exasperation, “could I have a word with you?”

“Dear, say whatever you please, but I’m not changing my mind. My son’s been away from me far too long. Arthur will be under my roof tomorrow.”

Millicent sucked in a loud breath and grabbed her sister’s hand. The two of them disappeared up the stairs.

It being Friday, the store wasn’t busy. Daniel took his son, went up, and moved things for the women. He also pulled furniture away from the walls in the nursery. While there, he laid a pair of chairs sideways across the head of the stairs to block them off so Arthur couldn’t fall down them. When the bell downstairs jangled, Daniel clambered over the arrangement.

Two strapping blond men stared at him from the bottom of the stairs. “Do you need help moving the furniture?”

“No. My son’s a busy tyke and likely to tumble if we don’t block off the stairs. I need to devise a gate.”

One man elbowed the other. “Karl, you take the measurements. I will draw the plan.”

“My brother has no manners. I am Karl, he is Piet. We are the Van der Vort brothers—the blacksmiths. This gate—it is important. A child’s safety comes before all else. We will do it for you now, ja?”

“Daniel Clark. And yes, you’re hired.”

The men lumbered up the stairs. Once at the top, Karl went down on his knees to greet Arthur. Piet winced. “I did not think about the women being here. We are not suitable.” He cast a disparaging look at his sooty leather apron.

Millicent ceased scrubbing the kitchen cupboard and came over.

“This is my wife. Millicent, these are the blacksmiths—Piet and Karl van der Vort.”

“Ma’am,” they said in unison.

“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance. My apron is every bit as soiled, so let’s look upon one another as industrious, shall we?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Isabelle, come meet our neighbors.”

Isabelle wilted into a chair and shook her head.

“Is she ailing?” Piet wondered.

The anguish in Millicent’s eyes tore at Daniel. He murmured, “She lost her husband very recently.”

“So she moves to a new country and loses her man? It is too much.” Piet shook his head.

Millicent’s eyes glistened with tears. “My husband’s been most kind to Isabelle. In fact, as soon as he paints the nursery, we’ll move over from the boardinghouse. Settling in will help.”

Karl rose from the floor with Arthur on his shoulder. “Ja, and so we will help.” A few seconds later, Daniel discovered he wasn’t referring only to manufacturing the gate. The Van der Vort brothers volunteered to paint.

“Isabelle, Arthur’s bound to get into the paint. Could you take him back to the boardinghouse with you—maybe do some hand sewing there?” Millicent tugged Daniel toward her sister. She whispered, “Daniel, hurry and carry Arthur downstairs. Isabelle, run back and ask Mercy if she can cook enough to allow us to have the Van der Vort brothers as supper guests.”

Jealousy speared through him. The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and he didn’t want any other man getting any warm or affectionate feelings for Millicent just because she thought to feed him.
She’s mine.

Just before supper, he still fought those feelings as he began to walk her back toward the boardinghouse. Millicent wouldn’t intentionally betray their marriage vows; but her friendly ways and breezy nature could lead a man to think she held special feelings for him.
What am I to do about this, Lord? She’s as maddening as any woman can be, yet tender to a fault. Unpredictable as the wind, but just as refreshing.

“Daniel, I’ve been thinking about your concerns regarding the stairs. Knowing about the gate relieves my mind. I cannot fathom how much deeper your worries have been. Reflecting upon that makes me realize how inconsiderate I was to challenge your decision regarding the stairs. I might forget, but I’ll not ever intentionally go against your rule and carry Arthur up or down the stairs.”

Relief streamed through him. “Good.” He nodded and started to escort her across the street.

They’d made it about halfway when someone shouted, “Beware!”

Nineteen

T
he world swirled around. Daniel had swept her up, taking two strides before something streaked by.
He’s so strong and fast.

Dark, serious eyes looked down at Millicent. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing happened, thanks to you.” Immediately after saying so, she reconsidered.
I’m fluttery inside like a silly schoolgirl.
Patting Daniel on the shoulder, she whispered, “You must put me down now.” He obliged as if he couldn’t wait to turn loose of her. Both relieved and a tad disappointed, Millicent babbled, “I cannot for the life of me fathom what that was, though. Did you—”

“Beware!”

He grabbed her close once again. Pressed against one another, they stared at the spectacle. “Daniel,” she groaned to his shirtfront, “is that . . .”

“Mrs. O’Toole. On the velocipede.”

“In bloomers!” Horrified she’d spoken that shameful realization aloud, Millicent let out a squeal and whirled away in time to see cowboys scatter like buckshot as Widow O’Toole plowed through their midst.

“Dan!” Orville shouted as he stomped over. “I told you it was a mistake.” He shook his finger. “That old battle-ax is trying to ride that bicycle!”

“I don’t know any old battle-axes.” Daniel threaded Millicent’s hand through his arm.

“Widow O’Toole,” Orville almost spat. “You gave her that velocipede.”

Pushing aside her embarrassment over having mentioned unmentionables, Millicent smiled up at her husband. “I’m so glad she’s enjoying herself. Don’t you think it admirable for an individual to try to learn something new?”

“Indeed.” Daniel patted her hand. “Excuse us, Orville. It’s our family’s suppertime, and we’ve invited guests to join us tonight.”

He’d figured it out. After a lot of soul searching, Daniel had come up with a solution. Though they weren’t fully wed, he owed Millicent as complete a marriage as possible. That meant kind words, courtly praise, and the gestures that made a woman feel cared for. He’d do all of those for her. Surely, with her seeing he’d set up separate bedchambers, she wouldn’t feel he’d suddenly changed his mind or was trying to seduce her. Honor had never come at such a steep price. God had not released him to reveal his true emotions to Millicent, so Daniel prayed for the strength to conduct himself with the chivalrous love of medieval knights.

He made a list of things he could do, and the next morning he showed up at the boardinghouse for breakfast with a bouquet of wild flowers. “Good morning, dear.” He held out the bouquet to Millicent.

“Oh, how lovely!” She looked utterly surprised. “Thank you, Daniel.”

Prepared to compliment her outfit, he gazed downward and frowned upon noticing the hoops beneath her skirt. “Millicent, we have a deal about—”

“But this is a special occasion! Now that the store is open and Arthur’s cot has arrived, I can move into our home above the store!”

He couldn’t help smiling. As odd as their marriage might be, she found some measure of happiness in it. “I concede, that makes it a special day.”

Once they got to the mercantile, Millicent arranged the flowers and carried them across the store.
She’s showing her sister. Isabelle will be happy Millicent’s receiving the little attentions a husband ought to pay his wife.
Isabelle managed a weak smile, but Daniel lost his smile entirely when Millicent set the vase down on the corner of Isabelle’s sewing machine and left it there.

Humming, Millicent referred to the schedule and chore list and went to tidy up the dishes, then on to the stockings and socks. When she went around the corner and rearranged the shoe polish display, he asked, “Dear, why are you fussing with those chores?”

Looking completely baffled, she said, “You put them on the list.”

Laughter rumbled out of him. “The list was the things we most need to unpack.”

Giggles spilled out of her, but they stopped abruptly when the store bell jangled. Orville sauntered in. “When you packed my stuff, you didn’t stick in my favorite decoy.”

Irritated, Daniel snapped, “We’re not open yet.”

“That’s mine!” Orville swiped the decoy from up by the rifle display and set it on the counter, serving Daniel an outraged scowl.

Arthur spied the decoy and lunged for it. “Guggy!”

“He said
ducky
!” Millicent hurried over. “What a clever boy you are, Arthur.”

Beaming at her, Arthur boasted, “Mine.”

“Oh no. That’s
my
lucky mallard.” Orville reached for it.

“Mine!” Arthur wound his arms about the decoy.

Millicent gave Orville an apologetic smile. “Arthur soon will grow weary of it.”

Lena Patterson opened the door a crack. “Hello! I know you’re not open yet, but I’m in the middle of a recipe and I’m out of eggs!”

“We can’t have that!” Millicent reached for an egg basket.
“One dozen, or two?”

Daniel watched his cousin saunter over and pick up a box of Glycerole. While reading its instructions on how to oil and dress shoes, his right brow hiked upward. He set it down and pulled the Jacquot and Company blacking from beside it and positioned it in front. Next, he rearranged the measuring cups and spoons Millicent had just displayed.

Daniel clipped out, “I’ll bring the decoy to you at the feedstore, Orville. You don’t need to wait around here.”