Bright Morning Star (30 page)

Henry walked past her and moved the barrel back inside before closing and locking the front door. He wondered how long she would let him continue his charade of being angry.

As he closed and locked the back door, he turned to see her standing face to face with him. Toe to toe, she was a head shorter than him, even with the little heeled shoes and tallest mountain of blonde hair.

“Henry, I’m sorry,” but she didn’t get to finish since he had her in his arms, close against him, kissing her apology away. When he finished, she hung limply in his arms.

“God, you irritating woman. I wish I still had enough strength to carry you upstairs and show you what I think of taking orders from a woman. But I can’t, I’m exhausted and utterly famished.”

They dined on cheese from the big wedge under glass, crackers from the barrel, and wine from a big brown bottle. It was red and had a wonderful fruity taste. Ignoring her smelly hands, Claire cut another wedge for each of them, then took an apple out to polish and slice.

“I don’t think I can sleep without a bath. Smell me,” she held out her hand and Henry pretended to bite it. “Nope, not really a pickle, but I think I want one. You?”

Claire giggled. “Just a bite, maybe.”

“There’s a pump in the kitchen. I’ll bring up a bucket. Don’t think I have the strength to go get the pitcher, fill it, and carry it back up. Did you notice where they had the buckets?”

“In the middle, on the left side of the store, but you better take a candle or lamp to see. There’s a lot of stuff in boxes along every aisle.”

Henry left, and she heard him bang into at least one crate before returning with a large new bucket.

She listened to him filling the bucket with water. Remembering the couple upstairs, she found a plate and loaded it with cheese, crackers, another sliced apple. She waited until he returned and held to his shirt as she followed him back up the stairs.

Claire stopped and knocked on the door, waiting again. When Ida opened it, Claire looked inside and sighed. Someone needed to empty the slop bucket. But for now, she settled for passing the tired woman the plate of food, then handed her the half bottle of red wine.

“I will try to cook something tomorrow. But this is what we ate for supper. Do you need me to keep a tally of the things we use?”

“Na, this gude. Goodnight hard angel.”

Claire managed a crooked smile and backed out as the woman closed the door.

Claire woke to see Henry staring at her again. When he leaned down to kiss her he groaned and fell back. Claire started to roll over to kiss him and heard herself groan as well. Lying side by side, they both smiled. Henry lifted her hand in his and kissed it. “Maybe today will be easier.”

She could tell from Henry’s expression he didn’t believe it either. Claire forced herself to roll out of bed. She quickly pulled on the brown dress she had worn to cross the plains. Somehow, this morning, she was only sure it wouldn’t show the dirt as easily. While she sent Henry down to find the stove and get a fire started, she faced the unpleasant task of assisting Ida to clean and air out the room. At least she was used to waking before the sun.

As repulsive as the task was, she quickly took care of the worst chore, then returned to open the curtains and window and help Ida in moving her husband into a more comfortable position. While she worked, she shared Bonnie’s travails and how the hardest part came in overcoming the addiction to the doctor’s prescription. Leaving the woman deep in thought, she descended to the kitchen. If he had a difficult time of lighting the stove, Henry didn’t complain and for that she stopped and kissed him.

The impulsive gesture brought a smile to his face. Like her, moving about had helped to ease his stiffness. This time when he took her into his arms, the moan was in pleasure. Claire washed up at the kitchen pump, delighted to see the little store had been outfitted with the latest conveniences. It had a deep, white porcelain wash sink with indoor water and a wide white wood-burning stove. The stove had three eyes and a warming plate for the kettle. Henry explained what he had figured out about the stove. Soon she had coffee on, oats boiling, and bacon frying.

“Well, the one thing I can say about living in a store. One doesn’t have to go far to find anything.”

Unlike the rest of the store, the only light in the kitchen came from a small window over the sink. They sat at the tiny table across from each other and Henry smiled. “This feels like the beginning of our new life, doesn’t it.”

Claire stared into his eyes and wished the table wasn’t between them so she could kiss him again. Instead, she blushed with pleasure as he reached across to take her hand as she reached for his. “I never knew you were so romantic, Henry.”

“There’s a lot we still need to learn about each other.” They were both startled when a cobweb covered bell over the sink rang.

This time it was Henry who took the tray up to the sick room while Claire cleared up. She was just washing the last dish when he brought down a tray with dirty ones from upstairs. He started to apologize, but realized she was singing as she sat the whole mess into the sink, tray and all. “Look at this. It’s such a pleasure, the sink is at waist height, no bending or trying to wet them with a small amount of water. And it’s so deep. Look at all the suds. Feel.” She grabbed and plunged his fingers beneath the water.

“Warm, how did you?”

“The well that you showed me, under the warming plate. We are finished cooking for now, so I used the hot water. Look how much cleaner the dishes are. Darling, isn’t it wonderful. So civilized,” she gushed and Henry swirled his bride around in the tiny kitchen.

“You, my darling, are too easily pleased. Go ahead, tell me what your plans are for today so I can get back to work.”

Claire took a pad of paper and a pencil and quickly drew a grid. “What do you think? The clothing department on the right or left.”

He stared at his pensive bride, noticed the curls were already escaping along her neck. This time he didn’t resist temptation, but bent to kiss her there. His reward was to feel her vibrate under his lips. Smiling, he slipped his arm around her waist, “I liked the way you described it to Ida, grocery shop on the left, haberdashery on the right.”

Claire leaned back to escape his roaming hands. “I love the way you say haberdashery,” she said with a giggle as he repeated the word before kissing her.

For an instant Claire felt dizzily drunk. This time when the bell rang, Henry swore.

“You’re right, darling. We’ll have to put a stop to that or we won’t be able to run the store,” she said.

“Leave it to me,” he said.

<><><>

Today seemed worse than yesterday. Claire had finished all the dishes and they had barely made headway in clearing the front right corner merchandise before customers began to arrive. When an amazingly tall couple entered, they began their usual pattern of waiting on them when the woman said in a beautiful Swedish accent.

“No darling, I’d like this charming, handsome man to serve me. You can take care of Johnson’s list.”

Claire stared at Henry. He had discarded his coat again in the warm room and wore his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbow. Claire had just been admiring the way her tanned husband looked with the neck of his shirt unbuttoned and his tie keeping company with the suit coat. She flared red as she saw the beautiful blonde look at him with the same interest.

The tall giant beside her laughed and Claire had the good grace to smile and curtsy, turning her head to look back at them as she took the miner’s shopping list.

She ground the pound of coffee for the miner as she heard his wife’s silvery laughter. “Don’t mind, Helga. She likes to flirt, is all. Believe me, she don’t need no other man.”

Claire’s face turned bright red as she stared up at the tall man, his meaning evident from where he held his hand. His booming laughter made Helga stop and walk back to the other couple. Henry seized the opportunity to grab his tie and coat. By the time he had walked back to the grocery counter, he was neatly covered and proper looking.

This time, when he sent Claire with Helga, he filled the rest of Johnson’s order without objection.

Claire was surprised to find she liked the big blonde. When she learned that Helga had come to try on the dress Lynne was sewing for her, she became even more excited. By the time the miner returned carrying a large tote of goods, the two women had become friends.

“I’ll have to scold Lynne for not telling me she was making clothes. I have some great ideas for the latest fashions and maybe we can collaborate.”

“I would love that, design one for me. I love the detail on your dress, but not the color. You are too pretty I think for such a plain dress.”

Claire beamed, “Well, we only arrived in town yesterday. Taking over the store for the Vandemeres was sudden. Lynne asked us to help her friends, Ida and Henrique.”

Helga motioned to Johnson. “I will go up, you want to come?”

He nodded, only setting down the tote when Henry offered to take it.

<><><>

Henry rolled his eyes as the couple disappeared inside the Vandemere’s room.

Claire raised a hand to smother a laugh. “What a woman,” she whispered.

Henry shook his head. “And I never thought there could be a woman more endowed than Bonnie.”

Without thinking Claire reached out to pinch his waist. It was what she and the girls always did to each other when one would irritate the other. Henry yelped in surprise.

“I’m shocked at you. A gentleman never notices that sort of thing.”

Henry laughed, but he didn’t reach for her waist to pinch. “Maybe, but a man always does.”

“Well, it’s not what a new husband should be noticing.”

She had that delightful, dizzy sensation as she looked down to be sure she hadn’t imagined his hands on her breasts. She knew she was lucky he stood between her and the window to the world.

“It is the first thing a new husband notices, believe me, when his mind is on nothing else.”

To escape the torture of his hands Claire pressed flat against his chest as he held, then kissed her.

<><><>

It was nearly a month later before the store was completely rearranged. Claire knew she would still be finding things to change if they stayed all year. The last of Henry’s goods from Boston were now carefully shelved or displayed. In the window were three dress forms – all that Ida had in stock – each wearing a recent Boston gown. The first week, Claire had sent word to Lynne, along with an order for a bustled gown for Helga and a request for a new one for herself. Both arrived the next week with Shorty and Bane as messengers. The strange men teased each of the couple, but by now, Claire took it in stride.

Western folk seemed far less reserved. At first she had been insulted or offended whenever a stranger made a personal remark. Now she realized that most were just trying to be friendly. It was their way of getting acquainted quicker to move on to meaningful conversations when they saw so very few people.

When the-would-be miners from the wagon train finally reached town, Claire was delighted to learn that she and Henry were not the only newlyweds. George King had married Faye Brewer, the cousin he had asked her about so many months ago at the dance. Cobb and Gerald were still single. The men were polite and congratulated Henry and her on their marriage as they shopped for new denims to wear to the mine fields.

Claire waited on the cousins. After congratulating Faye, she learned James Temple had ‘paired up’ with Dorothy Brewer. It was an expression Claire didn’t like. It meant the same in the west as it did in the east and she told Dorothy she was a fool not to demand the man marry her. Dorothy, surprised Claire when she spoke behind her, “Maybe I’m the one who won’t accept him.”

Claire had been just as blunt. “Well, when you get in the family way, any husband is better than none.”

The girl had left angry, but Claire could see she was considering her options again. Leray Raglon came through the door, even though Claire could see his mother going into the Morrison’s store across the street. “Well, looks like I was right about you two,” Leray said.

His comments were offensive, but Claire was prepared to ignore them. Henry looked ready to fight the man. The other men defended her honor as well and Leray backed down and left.

Now each day, the Vandemerees came down to help in the store. Ida had taken her advice. It was difficult, but she had gradually reduced Henrique’s dose to once a night. Claire had never known the little man before. With his bald head and glasses, he did not look like a husband the tall Dutch woman would have chosen. She and Henry had moved the guns to the far right corner, far away from the kitchen and into an area with no direct access. Their store had not been burglarized, but the Morrison’s had been, twice. Besides all that store’s money, the thieves had taken guns and ammunition.

Ida told them she always made bank deposits at the end of the day. Only a fool left the money where thieves could get it. Henry and Claire went to the bank first thing the next morning and deposited almost all of their foolish money.

Now Henrique sat behind the gun counter to dispense ammunition and demonstrate the guns. They had a special wheelchair for him and once Henry carried him down and put him in it, he did not leave it. The broken leg was elevated, the broken arm braced by a folding chair arm.

Ida took over the groceries and seemed to enjoy sitting at the front of the store, chatting with the customers. Occasionally, her Henry would yell and she would bustle over to him. Then Claire would work in the grocery section. Most of the time she preferred to work in the other sections, especially when one of the ladies would come in and she would take care of their fashion needs. Henry kept their funds from the sale of their merchandise separate from those of the general store. To date, the sales had been fairly evenly divided. When Henry complained that they would soon be out of merchandise, then their profits would be lower, Claire tried to come up with a solution.

From the first night, Claire had turned over the receipts to Ida to tally and record in her books. Claire kept a running tally of all supplies though, and as things began to dwindle, she would inform Ida and the woman would write orders to their suppliers. When Claire asked, the woman shared all the information with the young girl but looked dubious. Ida had a good head for figures and it was clear she was the one who had wanted the store. She still did not think a pretty little one like Claire could do the job.

Claire was surprised that the couple had no complaints about the way they conducted the business or by any of the changes they had made. Claire had organized the store into departments and kept both window displays up to date. There were always items of produce that would not survive the day. She used these to cook their meals, usually soup or oven roasted meals that could finish in the fancy oven while she worked.

Ida liked to bake. Now she was down, the smell of fresh bread, or if she came down early enough, hot doughnuts filled the air. Claire talked her into teaching her how to bake and to make the doughnuts in the oven. Soon she spent the early time on coming down each morning in baking the bread she had stirred up the night before. Customers loved buying the fresh bread and after she begged Ida, the fresh doughnuts.

Claire told her they should add cakes and pies too, since they sold so well.

“You bake all you want, my old feet, don’t need the money so much,” Ida said.

Claire did, then told Henry her new idea. “I think fresh bread every day, but maybe Cake only on Monday, Pie Tuesday, Doughnuts on Wednesday…”