Bride of Paradise (7 page)

Kristen smiled, hoping it didn’t look strained.  She couldn’t complain that the sweet ladies of their church were feeding them, but she had hoped to make dinner for her husband.  She wanted to make a meal other than breakfast sometime soon.  “Thank you!”  Kristen took the pot and the small basket that held a loaf of bread.  “I’ll make sure you get your things back at church on Sunday, Mrs.?”

“Allen.  Nancy Allen.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Allen.”  Kristen put the things on the table, and when she turned, she saw that Mrs. Allen had already left.  Kristen sighed, putting the stew on the stove to heat.  Someday, she’d be able to cook for her new husband.  She knew she would.

When Samuel got home from the mercantile, he was grinning from ear to ear.  “He was about to order five trunks.  That means that we only have one left to get rid of.  I’ll take the other three over in the morning.”

Kristen smiled.  “I can always use that one to store things in.  I’m sure when we have a baby on the way, I’ll be doing a lot of sewing for him or h
er and having a place to put things will be nice.”

Samuel seemed to consider it before nodding.  “That’s fine.  We’ll keep three then.”  He sat down at the table.  “Dinner smells good.”

“Mrs. Allen brought it.  She said you love her stew.”

He nodded.  “I do love her stew.”  He waited while she served him and sat across from him.  “You’ve gotten a lot done today.  Thank you.” 

She smiled at him.  “I was happy to do it.  I want our home to be comfortable for both of us.”

He thought about that.  He hadn’t spent any time trying to make his home comfortable.  He was happy she thought about those things.  After their prayer, they ate the dinner Mrs. Allen had brought over. 

While he ate, he looked around the room.  “You had time to wash the windows today?” he asked in surprise.

She shrugged.  “They needed it, so I made the time.  There’s so much I need to do that I didn’t have time to get to, but it doesn’t all have to be done today, I don’t guess.”  She thought the stew had a bit too much salt, but she didn’t say anything.  She
couldn’t wait to start cooking herself.  When would the women stop bringing over every meal?

Once she’d finished the dishes, she found Samuel sitting on the sofa on the other side of the main room of the house, reading his Bible.  She smiled, curling up beside him.  “Which book are you reading?”

He looked up.  “Psalms.  I’m going to do my sermon this week on the twenty-third Psalm, and the peace we can get from a combination of the Lord and his Word.”

She nodded, closing her eyes, more tired than she cared to admit.  “I love the twenty-third Psalm.  It calls me when I’m…upset.”
  She wasn’t sure what other word to use for how she felt when her hands were dirty. 

“Do you get upset often?”

Kristen shrugged.  How could she tell him that she became unreasonably upset at strange things?  She’d wait and let him see it for himself.  She couldn’t explain it in a way anyone would ever understand anyway.  “Would you read to me?”

He looked at her for a moment, before dropping his eyes back to his Bible.  His baritone voice read the familiar words, and she felt all the upsets of the day fade away.  Truly, her first day in her new home had been good and very productive.  She’d done so much, and her house was shining.  Once the last trunk was out, she’d be able to scrub the rest of the big room and finish the cleaning. 

Of course, she’d just start over again on Monday, with laundry, and recleaning the whole house, but she was happy to know it would only be dirt that had been there as long as she had. 

Kristen hated dirt.  There was just something about it that made her slightly crazy.  She hoped she could hide her crazy from Samuel for as long as possible.  It would be nice if he never had to see it of course, but she didn’t think that was at all possible. 

She sat quietly, listening as he continued the Psalm.  He was a good man, and she’d made the right decision to marry him.  Even if she missed her family and it made her slightly crazy when people kept bringing them meals as if she didn’t know how to cook.  Both meals they’d received that day had been edible, certainly, but she could have done better in both cases.

She looked up and realized that he’d quit reading and was watching her.  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

She sighed.  “Well, I’m wondering if people are going to keep bringing us all of our meals.  I prefer to cook myself.”  She held up a hand.  “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve appreciated it today, because I had so much to do, but is there any way to ask everyone to stop?  If they want to use meals as their tithe, could they just bring ingredients, and let me do what I want with them?” 

She preferred to wash her food the way she wanted it washed.  She’d started doing most of the cooking at
home when she was only fourteen because she wanted to know that the food she ate was clean enough.  Everyone thought she was strange for it, but she didn’t care.  Her mother hadn’t complained about giving up the duty.

“I wouldn’t know how to ask that.  They’re being helpful and providing us with good meals to eat.  How can we refuse?”  He shrugged, wishing he knew what she wanted.

“And it wouldn’t be very frugal to give the meals to the poor, would it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Does it mean that much to you to do the cooking yourself?”

She sighed.  “It really does.  I’ve been cooking for my family since I was fourteen.  I want to know how everything is prepared, and if the vegetables are scrubbed thoroughly before they’re cooked.  I want to know how long the fish sat out before someone did something with it.  I know it probably seems strange to you, but it matters a lot to me.”  She felt funny revealing this all to him, because she knew it was odd, but hopefully he’d understand.

He frowned.  “I don’t think we can give the meals away.  Maybe I can talk to the men and make it known that you like to cook for me?  If they want to use food as a tithe, they should just bring the ingredients?  Although, I don’t know how to say that without hurting feelings.”

“We’ll work through it.  People are just being generous, and I certainly can’t fault them for that.”  She stood and stretched, her muscles aching from the hard day she’d put in.  “I’m going outside, and I’ll be back in a minute.  I think I’m ready for bed.”

Samuel watched her leave, a slight smile on his face.  She really didn’t like to eat food other people had cooked?  How odd.  It was going to be very hard for her to be an effective preacher’s wife

Chapter Six

Kristen woke up early on Sunday morning, fixing a big breakfast for them.  She still hadn’t had a chance to cook a single meal other than breakfast.  People brought meals and cakes and cookies. 

She washed the dishes before carefully dressing for church.  It was her first Sunday service as a preacher’s wife and she wanted to make a good impression.  She wore her nicest dress, other than her wedding dress, with the matching hat and drawstring purse.  She got her Bible from the shelf and carried it to the church with her.  Before leaving the house, she pulled on her elbow length gloves in preparation for all the hand shaking she knew was bound to happen.

Samuel looked at her hands.  “I don’t think you should wear those.  It’s too hot.”

Kristen shrugged, not wanting to admit the real reason she wore the gloves.  “It is hot, but they’re fashionable.”

He shook his head.  “Not here, they’re not.  Here they’ll really look out of place.  Like you think you’re better than everyone else.”

She sighed and tugged the gloves off.  She didn’t want to make a bad impression, so she’d take his advice.  “I won’t wear them then.  I don’t want to make a bad first impression.”

Samuel led the way to the church.  She hadn’t made it out of the house except for her one trip to the mercantile, so she didn’t have any idea where the church was.  “I try to arrive an hour early, because some people are coming from the country, and you never can tell whether they’ll be early or late.”

Kristen went in and opened the four windows and left the door on the side of the church standing wide to air it out.  She made sure all of the Bibles and hymnals were arranged properly in the backs of the pews before sitting in the front row.  While waiting for other people to arrive, Samuel was behind the pulpit, eyes closed, practicing his sermon under his breath.  Kristen wondered what it would be like to watch him preach.  It was a big aspect of his personality that she hadn’t had a chance to see yet.

She heard laughing voices and stood, ready to greet the new people coming in.  A young couple, the wife carrying a baby, came into the church and they moved to one of the pews in the back.  They didn’t come toward her, so Kristen didn’t go to them.  She had a hard time knowing what she was supposed to do.  Eventually she needed to meet everyone, but was forcing herself on them as soon as they walked into church the right thing to do?

She decided to wait.  She really didn’t want to have to shake a bunch of hands anyway.  It would be soon enough after the sermon.  At least then she’d be able to think about washing her hands as soon as they were done. 

The church slowly filled up and she smiled and introduced herself to people, carefully keeping her hands behind her back.  She was sure she’d have to shake hands after the service, but that was okay, because she could go home and wash them afterward.

She was able to get by without shaking a single hand before the service, and sank into her seat with a sigh of relief as the hymns started.  She liked seeing her husband at the pulpit leading the congregation through the songs and prayers, and then finally, she enjoyed hearing his sermon.  She sat straight and proper and listened just like she’d been taught since she was a little girl.  She followed along in her Bible as he read the Psalm, not fidgeting at all, simply moving one finger along under the text.

After the sermon, they sang one last song before closing prayer.  After the prayer, she hurried to Samuel’s side, knowing the best way to meet people would be beside him.  He introduc
ed her to person after person, each of them shaking her hand. 

She carefully kept a smile plastered on her face a
s she said a few words to each of them, but inside she started to panic.  She must have shaken twenty hands, and there wasn’t an end in sight yet.

As she shook the last hand, she waited for Samuel to lock up the church, and then she walked by his side, saying nothing.  She couldn’t concentrate on anything but her hands and how dirty they were.  She was able to keep her walk slow and steady, matching his steps, until she saw their small house up ahead.  With a mumb
led, “I’m sorry!” she broke into a run and hurried to the house, running inside to wash her hands with the water she’d left on the work table, scrubbing them with the lye soap she had sitting there.

Samuel hurried in behind her and watched her, puzzled about what was wrong.  Finally, he sat down and watched as she rinsed them for the third time.  “Kristen?  Tell me what’s wrong.”

Kristen looked up from her task, realizing just then that he’d run after her.  “I can’t stand shaking hands without gloves.”  Her voice was panicky and there were tears in her eyes.  “I’m always worried about what people touched before they shook my hand.  It’s the same with food.  People aren’t clean enough.  I watched a woman shake my hand once right after changing her baby’s diaper, and she never washed her hand.”  She was slightly out of breath as she explained, still scrubbing at her hands.

He watched her carefully.  “That’s why you wanted to wear gloves to church.”
  He finally understood her a little better.  It wasn’t that she wanted to be perfect all the time.  She was afraid of dirt.

She nodded.  “I know it’s silly, but I just can’t stop myself.”  She took a few calming breaths, finally drying her hands on a towel.  “Would it be okay if I kept a bucket of water and some soap at the back of the church for hand washing?  Maybe I could hide it somewhere?  Then, as soon as I finished shaking hands with people, I could wash my hands and not have to wait until we get home.”
  She didn’t add that it would stop her from the panic she’d gone through today, but she was certain he understood her unspoken words.

Samuel pulled her into his arms holding her tightly.  “I think that’s a perfect solution.”  He didn’t know how to react to what she’d just told him, but he would help her in any way he could.  “Why didn’t you just tell me?  We could have come up with a solution before church this morning.”
  Did she think he wouldn’t help her with her little “problem?”

She shook her head.  “I didn’t want you to think that I’m crazy.”  She sighed, resting her face on his shoulder.  She was thrilled he was reacting so well, because she had never had anyone just accept this part of her before.

He grinned against her hair.  “I don’t think you’re crazy.  Sweet, lovable, and interesting, but not crazy.”  He kissed the top of her head.

“You’re not mad at me for trying to hide it?”

He shook his head.  “No, I’m not mad at you.”  He sighed heavily.  “I wish I’d known, but I’m not mad.  We’ll find ways to work around it.”  He was surprised to note that he really wasn’t at all angry with her.  He’d known that she was very “particular” before he’d married her, and he could have called it off.  He was glad he hadn’t. 

She stood on tiptoes to brush her lips against his, the first time she’d ever made a motion toward him physically.  “Why don’t you sit down while I make lunch for us?”
  She’d put a pot in the oven to start cooking before they’d left for church, and it should be just about finished.

He took a seat at the table, smiling as he watched her work.  “I talked to several of the men today and let them know you’d be cooking our meals from now on.  They agreed that if they were going to tithe with food, they would bring it by uncooked.”  He shrugged.  “That’s how we get our milk and eggs as well.  They’re a tithe.”

She smiled and turned to him.  “Thank you!”

“As soon as I realized it mattered to you to be the one to cook, I was happy to do it.”  He looked around the house.  It had never been so immaculate.  A group of ladies from the church had come in and cleaned once per month, and one of the women had done his laundry every week as her family’s tithe.  He liked knowing that Kristen was doing it instead.  “I can’t believe how good the house looks.”

She continued cooking.  “I like things neat and clean.”

Samuel laughed.  He’d never heard such an understatement.  “I’ve noticed that about you.” 

She pulled the soup she’d fixed from the oven and sliced up some bread she’d made the day before.  Setting a big bowl of the soup in front of him, she poured them each a glass of milk and settled into the chair across from him.  “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Famished.  I swear, Sunday mornings make me hungrier than anything else.  I love my job, but it’s exhausting.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “I usually take a nap on Sunday afternoons,” he admitted sheepishly.

She grinned.  “Sunday is a day of rest, after all.  I may even join you.”

He reached across the table for her hand as he said the prayer for them.  When he was finished, his eyes met hers.  “We’ve had a few bumps as we’ve gotten to know each other, but I’m glad you’re here, Kristen.  You were just what I needed in my life.”

“I feel the same way.  I couldn’t make myself court anyone in Dallas, because no one seemed right.  I guess God knew that you were waiting for me.”  She grinned at him as she said the words.

He laughed.  “That’s probably it.”

They talked about the people they’d met as they slowly ate their lunch.  Kristen was thrilled to cook for him finally, and he was happy to see how excited she was about cooking for the two of them again. 

He waited while she did the lunch dishes and just as she was finishing, there was a knock at the door.  He got it.  “Mr. and Mrs. Allen.  Come in!”

The older couple stepped into the house.  Kristen dried her hands and walked to where they stood with Samuel in the sitting area.  She didn’t offer her hand to shake.  She knew she’d met them at church that morning.  “It’s good to see you,” she said softly.

Mrs. Allen smiled.  “Something smells good.  You enjoy cooking?”
 

Kristen nodded.  “I love to cook.  I’ve done all the cooking for my family for years, because I enjoy it so much.” 

“I see.  Several of the women came to me to find out why we weren’t allowed to bless you with meals anymore.  I didn’t mind, but some of the women felt like it was an insult to their cooking.”

“Oh no!  It was never that.”  Kristen struggled for words to explain.  “All my life I’ve thought about how much I would enjoy cooking
for my husband once I was married, and then when I got here, every meal was delivered.  I felt like I was never going to get the chance to cook for my own family.”

Mrs. Allen laughed.  “I remember being excited to cook for my husband when I first married too.  He wasn’t so excited to eat the burnt offerings, though.”

Kristen laughed.  “Well, I don’t think my meals are quite as bad as all that.  I do have a good deal of experience cooking.”

“I can tell by the smell in here that your meals are a hundred time better than mine were when I first married.”  She looked around.  “You’ve done wonders with the parsonage as well.
”  The bedroom door was open and she could see into the bedroom where all of Kristen’s dresses hung nicely from the broomsticks.  “I’ve never seen this place so clean and organized.”

“I like things to be just right.  I’m afraid I get nervous when things seem to be chaotic around me,” Kristen confided.

“You’re going to spend a lot of years being nervous when the babies come then.”  She shook her head, but there was a smile on her face.  “Watching you with your children will be a blessing.”

Kristen blushed.  “I hope to have several children.”

“I’ll talk to the other women, make sure they understand that it’s not that you didn’t like
our
cooking, you just prefer to do it yourself.  I told them you’d want to cook for your own husband when you first came here anyway.  I don’t know what they were thinking.  They just kept saying it would be easier for you to settle in if you didn’t have to worry about it.”

“Thank you.  I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with anyone, but I really do enjoy doing my own cooking.”  Kristen smiled.  “Maybe you could spread the word that I’d like all the ladies to come over for afternoon tea on Thursday?”  She’d started to say Friday, but she remembered that Samuel took Friday afternoons off work.  “Say around two?  I’ll have some cookies and tea for everyone, because I do want to get to know everyone better.”

Mrs. Allen nodded.  “I’ll spread the word, and I’ll be the first person to agree to come.  You want all the ladies from the church?”  She looked around skeptically, obviously worried about the size of the small house.

Kristen nodded.   “That would be nice.  We might be cramped, but we can make it work.”

“I think we’d all enjoy that.”

Kristen looked over at Samuel and saw him speaking with Mr. Allen in a soft voice.  What could they be talking about?  Were there other complaints about her?

Once the Allens left, Samuel took her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom.  “Let’s go get that nap.”

“Did he say something bad about me?”
  Kirsten was worried that if the people in the congregation already disliked her, it would be difficult to be a good minister’s wife.

“No, he just wanted me to know that some of the ladies were upset about you asking for no more meals.  He said that he and Mrs. Allen would try and make things easier for you.”

She sighed.  “I hope I’m not more trouble than I’m worth.”  She hated that some of the women in the congregation already resented her.  She hadn’t meant to cause bad feelings.