Chapter Five
Josie made rabbit stew that evening following a receipt Myrtle had shared with her. She realized she should have read what needed to happen before leaving that morning because the stew needed to cook for half the day, and she’d been gone until well after lunch.
She said a quick prayer that Jack wouldn’t be angry that supper wasn’t ready when he walked into the house. She’d seen her stepfather deliberately burn her mother’s arm for not having supper ready on time.
When Jack walked in, he hung up his coat. “How long until supper?” he asked.
Josie was shaking as she said, “An hour or two.”
“All right,” Jack said calmly. “I’m going to have some hardtack, but don’t worry, I’ll be hungry when it’s ready.”
Josie blinked. “You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry? It’s just food.” He gave her a perplexed look.
“But...there’s dessert if you want some. And bread.”
“I’ll have them with my meal.” He washed his hands. “How was your day?”
“It was good. I spent most of it with Myrtle.”
“Good! I think you spend too much time in the cabin alone. With as dark as it is, it might start to make you melancholic, so spend time with her and your other friends.”
Josie was having trouble understanding how pleasant he was being about supper. “How about some coffee to go with your hardtack?”
“I’d love that if you have some made. If not, I’ll have water.”
She got down a cup and poured from the pot of coffee she’d made a short time earlier. Placing the cup in front of him, she picked up her knitting. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I’m not going to get angry over something so small.”
“What would make you angry?” she asked.
He tilted his head to one side, thinking about it. “If you kissed another man. If you burned down the house, though that would be more fearful than angry. Umm..I’m not sure. I don’t get angry easily.”
She took a deep breath. “When I was six, my mother didn’t have supper ready when my stepfather got home from work.
My little brother had spent all day crying, and she’d been tending to him and lost track of time.
He took the spoon out of the soup pot and held it against her arm.
It was metal, and it left a horrible scar. She still has it.”
Jack closed his eyes, thinking of how fearful she would have been to see something like that. “I’m so sorry that happened. You must have been horribly frightened.”
She nodded. “I was. I’ll never forget my mother’s scream.”
“Please understand that your stepfather is a horrible person. No man should ever hurt a woman or child.”
Josie felt tears swimming in her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge them.
“Is your mother still married to your stepfather?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “That’s why I moved out as soon as I could. I had to sneak away in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t bear to watch him hurt my mother every day.”
“He burned her every day?” Jack asked, wishing he could throttle her mother’s husband.
“No. He only burned her three times I can remember. Mostly, he used his fists or threw her across the room. One time he beat her bare back with a riding crop.”
“That’s terrible! You should have told someone.”
Josie shrugged. “I tried once. I told a policeman. He told me if my mother was obedient my stepfather wouldn’t have to beat her.
” She shook her head. “After that, I didn’t tell anyone, but I would take over her chores if she was hurting too much to do them.
All but cooking. She always did the cooking because I didn’t know how, and she didn’t dare teach me. ”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t she dare teach you?”
“Because he wouldn’t have eaten it, and he would have beaten her for wasting food.” She sighed. “I couldn’t stop him.”
“Did you ever try?” he asked, half-afraid of the answer.
She lifted her hair—which had been cut into bangs since she was twelve, when she’d tried to help—and pointed to a scar. “Only once.”
He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but he knew the answer would send him to Massachusetts, and he was afraid of what he’d do once he arrived.
Instead, he covered her hand with his. “He’s a monster.”
Josie closed her eyes and nodded. “He is.”
“Do you still hear from your mother?”
Josie shook her head. “I’ve kept up a correspondence with my sister, but not my mother. I think Ma is angry with me for leaving.”
“You did the right thing. Who knows what would have happened if you’d stayed?”
“Annie wrote me at the hotel, and I’ve told her I was moving to Yeti. I think Annie is ashamed. He’s her father, after all.”
“I hope she writes to you here. I think it would do you good to know how your mother is doing.”
“Perhaps,” Josie said. Every time she’d opened a letter from her sister, she’d worried that her mother was dead.
“Most men are not like him, you know.”
She shrugged. “I suppose not.”
They sat in silence for a long while as she continued working on the socks she was making, and he read from the Bible.
Finally, she stood and checked on the stew. “It’s done.” She quickly ladled two portions into bowls and cut bread, placing them both on the table. Then she refilled their coffee cups.
When he prayed before their meal, he prayed that her family would be safe. Josie wanted to cry that he cared enough to include that in his prayer, but instead, she took a tentative bite of her stew.
“It’s not as good as Myrtle’s, but it’s good,” she said, her voice full of surprise.
He chuckled. “I expected nothing less.”
That evening when they went to bed, instead of clinging to the side as she had been, she moved straight into his arms, kissing him softly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t ask what she was thanking him for. He knew. She was thanking him for a future that didn’t include the brutality she’d witnessed as a child.
He held her close, his hands stroking over her back.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head and looked at him. “I was given to understand that men are always in a hurry to consummate a marriage, and we’ve waited weeks.”
“You needed time to get used to me. So, I’m giving you that time.”
She thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think I need more time. You didn’t burn me or beat me for being late with supper. You’re a better man than he is.”
He shook his head. “That’s not saying much.” It went against everything his body was screaming at him to do, but he held her close and didn’t try to do anything else. She needed more time, and he would give it to her.
Josie fell asleep in his arms that night, and he considered it a win. She was starting to trust him when she was awake as well as when she was asleep.
*****
For the next week, Josie knitted and made boots. Nothing seemed to be what she wanted to do though. She spent every morning with Myrtle, helping her with the dishes after the baking was finished.
“What do I want to be when I grow up?” she asked Myrtle late Friday morning. “I feel like I’m spinning my wheels, while everyone else knows what they want.”
“That’s something you have to decide for yourself,” Myrtle told her as they washed the dishes and packed Myrtle’s wagon.
“It’s making me crazy.”
Myrtle sighed. “But you’re planning on staying here, right? You’re going to remain married to Jack and live happily ever after?”
Josie laughed. “Happily ever after? I’m not so certain about that. But Jack is a good man. I was late with supper one night, and he didn’t even get angry.”
“What did you expect?”
“Well, when my ma was late with supper, my stepfather burned her.”
Myrtle stopped wiping the dishes and turned fully to her friend. “Your stepfather was not a good person. He was evil. A monster even. You have to stop judging all men by him.”
Josie stared down into the dishwater. “I know. What I don’t know is how to do that.”
“If you had never seen how your stepfather treated your mother, and you met Jack, what would you think of him?”
“Good question,” Josie said, thinking about it. “I would think he’s kind. Easy to please.”
“Not all men are easy to please, but I’m glad Jack is. He sounds like the opposite of your stepfather, so stop comparing them! Accept Jack for who he is. A good man who treats you with kindness.”
Josie nodded slowly. “I’ll try to do that.”
“Don’t try. Do it. If you find yourself comparing the two men, make your brain instead tell you five things you like about Jack. Five reasons you’re glad you married him and not someone else.”
“All right. That’s what I’ll do.”
“And if you feel like you can, tell Jack all the reasons you’re glad you married him and not someone else. He’s the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, so you should tell him!”
“I suppose you’re right. I will do my very best.”
That evening when Jack returned from work, she had supper on the table. “Did you have a good day at work?” she asked, determined to be positive and not dwell on the past.
He nodded, washing his hands. “It was a long day. One of the men had a tree fall on him. He probably won’t make it.”
“Oh no! That’s terrible.”
Jack nodded. “He’s a good man. I was proud to call him friend.”
Josie set supper on the table and sat down with him. “I’m so sorry.”
“I am too.” He ate his soup in silence that evening, his mind obviously on his friend.
“What can we do for the hurt man?” Josie asked as she was clearing the table. “What’s his name again?” She couldn’t remember the name he’d used when he’d prayed for the other man.
“Luke. Katie is watching over him. I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
Josie frowned. “Why don’t I take them lunch tomorrow? Even if Luke isn’t up to eating, Katie and Mr. Johnson will be. I’m sure Katie doesn’t have time to cook as well as care for your friend.”
“You’d do that for me?” Jack asked.
“I’d do anything for you. You’ve helped me see that not all men are mean. I feel blessed to get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Jack stood and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “That means more than I can express.”
“I’ve been comparing you to my stepfather since the day I got here. I don’t need to do that anymore. You’re nothing like him. You’re someone I’m proud to have as my husband.”
He rested his cheek on her head. “I’m so glad you realized that. Thank you.”
She hugged him tightly. “Let me do our supper dishes, and you think about what I should make. Remember, I’m not a great cook.”
“You keep telling me that, but I have no complaints.”
Josie went to the sink and washed the dishes, putting them away. Then she warmed some milk and poured it into a glass for him. “To help you sleep,” she said quietly.
He looked at the glass as if it was distasteful before taking it and drinking it. “Thank you.”
She served him a slice of the cake Myrtle had made for their dessert. “What do you think he would like to eat? Assuming he’s able to eat tomorrow.”
Jack thought for a moment. “He loves anything sweet. He’s one of the men who takes a late lunch so he can get the sweets fresh as soon as they get to the store.”
“I’ve never really made a dessert, but I will. Why don’t I make a duck soup, and I’ll figure out something to bake for him?”
Jack reached over and took her cookbook from its spot on a shelf and leafed through it. “How about sugar cookies? I know he loves sugar cookies.”
“Is he going to want frosting on them? I’ve never made frosting or cookies. There’s less chance I’ll mess up if I just do the cookies.”
Jack nodded. “I think just cookies are fine. He may not even be able to eat them.”
“Where is the nearest doctor?” Josie asked, afraid of the answer.
“Tanana. It’s a four-hour walk from here in good conditions. And I would call the current conditions less than desirable.”
Josie glanced out the window. “It was clear when I got home!” she said, staring at the whirling snow. She wasn’t certain it would even be safe to go to the store with food the following day.
“I don’t work tomorrow, so I’ll take the food to Katie. I don’t want you lost in the storm.”
“Well, I don’t want you lost in the storm either!”
He chuckled. “I’ve walked the road to town many times. I’ll be all right.”
“Don’t get hurt,” she said softly. “I don’t want to think about what life would be like without you.”
He pulled her into his lap and held her close. “You’re different tonight. Less afraid.”
“Not afraid at all,” she said. “I’m no longer comparing you, so I’m not thinking about any man but you. And you are a good man.”
He kissed her then, and for the first time, she responded passionately. He knew the time was finally right.
He gently nudged her to her feet and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.
He touched her in places she’d never been touched, and each stroke of his hand made her feel loved and cared for.
When it was all over, she smiled as she snuggled into his side. “What’s the smile about?” Jack asked.
“I’ve feared the marital act my entire life. And it was glorious. I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt to anyone. Have I mentioned yet how glad I am to have you in my life?”
He grinned. “I guess you responded to the right letter.”
“I know I did. Marriage to you isn’t scary at all.”