making either of them uncomfortable.
The smell of frying bacon woke Rena the next morning. Her stomach wrenched.
Please help me, Lord. How long is this going to go on? I don’t have time to be sick all day, every day. I know I don’t have a right to ask You for anything, but I’d sure appreciate a dose of mercy.
She slid her feet into her slippers and tied on her robe. She opened the door enough to see Scott at the stove with his back to her. She tiptoed across the floor of the main room and out the front door. The chilly air and damp ground were the only evidence of the rain she’d heard in the middle of the night. The sky was bright and clear.
A few minutes later, with one hand across her middle and the other holding her robe tight at the neck, she returned and hoped to make her way back to her room unnoticed.
“Oh, there you are.” Scott was walking away from the door to her room. He pointed at the table but stumbled backward a couple of steps as he took in her appearance. “I, uh, breakfast is ready.”
Rena made an effort to pull her robe tighter. She wasn’t accustomed to being in a man’s presence in such a state. There hadn’t been time to brush her hair or make herself presentable before she’d taken ill. Shame covered her again. Scott continued his backward motion until he was on the opposite side of the room from her.
“Thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She dashed into her room and closed the door. Leaning against the cold wood, she vowed to avoid another instance of being caught in her nightclothes. Even if it meant she had to sleep in one of her dresses.
When she went back into the main room, Scott was taking his plate to the basin. “I thought we’d get an early start.” He didn’t look at her.
“That’s fine. Is there anything you need me to do before we go? Gather the eggs? Feed the chickens?”
“Nope. It’s all done.” He was at the door, donning his hat. “Have your breakfast while I hitch up the wagon.”
“I’ll be quick.” She watched him button his jacket. “But you’re going to have to let me help. Tomorrow morning I’ll follow you around and learn the chores.”
He lifted the door latch. “We’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.” He was out the door before she could respond.
The first part of the ride to town was silent. It wouldn’t do to arrive and face all the people they knew without having said a dozen words to each other.
“If you want to drop me off at my father’s house, I can pack this morning while you work.” She held her best reticule in her lap. The navy velvet fabric and black-trimmed bag felt fancy compared to her mood. She’d worn her Sunday best for the wedding. The reticule had completed her outfit, and she hadn’t thought to pack another one in her valise.
“Do you have a trunk?” Scott kept his eyes on the road.
“My mother’s. It should hold everything. I don’t have much. My clothes and sewing.” She bit her bottom lip. She wouldn’t tell him about the items she’d hidden in the bottom of the trunk for years. Things she thought a bride would need when she married. A fancy frame for a wedding photograph. A lace runner for the dresser she’d hoped to have in the room she’d share with the husband she’d dreamed of as a girl.
Eugene had turned that dream into a nightmare. The fancy things she’d collected had lost the joy she’d known when she’d bought them.
She would still bring them, but there was nothing in that trunk to turn this marriage into a happy event. No trinket or keepsake could polish the tarnish off her circumstances. Today she was married, but her problems were far from over.
Scott’s reply dragged her back to the moment at hand. “Good. I’ll leave you to it then. When you finish, come to my office. We’ll have lunch at the hotel before we go to the mercantile and purchase the things you’ll need for the house. Or, if you’d rather, you can give me a list. I’ll drop it off, and Mrs. Busby can gather everything up for you.”
“That’s probably for the best. It would save us time.” She twisted her gloved hands together. “We don’t have to go to lunch. I can make something at Papa’s or after we get home.”
He glanced at her. “What kind of husband would the folks of Gran Colina think me if I didn’t treat you to a nice meal after our wedding? We didn’t have time yesterday, but today they’ll be expecting me to treat you.”
“So you are thinking about how people are going to react to us.”
“I am. And so should you be. You’re going to have to talk to Charlotte. She’s not the kind to let you up and get married without giving her all the details.”
Rena gasped. “Oh no. I hadn’t thought of that. Giddiness and giggles will be on her mind.” She shook her head. “I won’t be able to do that.”
“I suggest you tell her that a married lady doesn’t discuss the things of marriage with anyone other than her husband. She’s mature enough to accept that.”
“She’s going to have questions. Lots of questions about when we started courting and why we didn’t tell anyone.”
“Hmm. It seems you’re going to have to be the most convincing. Men aren’t likely to ask me that sort of thing.” He squinted against the morning sun. “Tell her I’m not the kind to talk about such things. That I’m real private about matters of the heart.” He frowned.
Rena imagined there was more truth to his suggestion than he’d be willing to admit. After Louise’s marriage to Thomas Freeman, he hadn’t courted anyone that she knew of. Surely Louise’s betrayal had wounded him. “Thank you. That’s just the type of answer to keep her from pressing me.”
Scott slowed the wagon to cross the railroad tracks and headed through the center of town. The stationmaster lifted a hand as they drove by. “Morning, Sheriff. Mrs. Braden. Must say I’m a bit surprised to see the two of you back in town so soon after your wedding.”
Rena sensed Scott stiffen on the seat beside her. He nodded and answered, “Good morning.”
“Oh my. I think we’re going to be the object of more attention than I realized.” She straightened her back and held on to the rail on the side of the seat.
“Yes. Not much more interesting has happened in town in recent weeks.”
In the center of town, he steered the wagon to the right. One more left turn would find them at her father’s house. The home where she’d grown up with her father and mother.
How she wished her mother had been here to advise her. Her death had left Rena and Papa with memories of a wonderful woman and no one to guide Rena through her years of becoming a young lady. If her mother had lived, she felt certain she wouldn’t be in this situation. Momma would have known she was sneaking around with Eugene. Just like she’d known when Rena had broken the sugar bowl that had been in their family for two generations.
Momma had known so many things without being told. Could Rena ever hope to be that kind of
