Even when he said no more, she understood what Ned wanted. “Are you wondering why I agreed to work for you?”
“I’m wondering more than a little. How did you know I wasn’t a bad man, too? You didn’t even know my name.”
They stood there in the empty space between the barn and the house, no one else in sight, the sky dark, snow threatening. She did not know how he would feel about her answer, but it was the only one she had. “Something about you told me I could trust you,” Kate said finally. She thought some more. “You didn’t crowd me. You just stood there so respectful, your hat in your hand.”
“Pa says I’m too serious. He says ladies want someone exciting.”
Katie shook her head. “Not me! Something told me I could trust you.”
He followed her into the kitchen, setting the milk into pans and covering it with a clean cloth. Tomorrow she would skim off the cream and add it to the cream of the day before. In another day she would churn it. She had found a small glass rose, stuck in that same cabinet with the calving rope, that she intended to press into the still soft butter to make a decoration.
“I should have asked you before I promised Pete to Mr. Bradley,” she said.
“Maybe, maybe not. Just thinking of that conversation embarrasses me,” he said. He sat down at the table and patted the chair beside him. “You notice how quick I was to say no, without even thinking?”
“I noticed,” she told him, “but you make the decisions.”
“No excuse for not considering something before I shut it down,” he said. He touched her hand lightly. “Thank you for not giving up on a good idea that I probably would have strangled at birth.”
She couldn’t help but feel flattered. “Everyone is taking a chance with this idea.”
“Glen Bradley will let me know if it’s not working,” he said. He gestured down the hall. “Pa wants to talk to you. Want me in there, too?”
Pride nearly made her say no, but as Katie looked into his eyes, she saw the kindness there. “I do,” she whispered.
Mr. Avery told her to take a seat and she did, pulling up the one chair in the room until it was closer to his bed. Ned stood behind her chair, his hands on the back of it.
“Ned, I’m not going to scold her,” Mr. Avery said. “You can leave.”
She was too embarrassed to look around, but heard Ned’s laugh as he backed out of the room. He didn’t go far, because she heard the rustle of his mattress in the next connecting room.
“You did a good thing for Pete,” Mr. Avery told her. “None of us knew what to do, but you did.”
“I got lucky,” she managed to say.
“It’s more than that,” he contradicted. “You’re looking out for Pete, same as we are, but you’re looking at him from a different angle. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said simply.
He motioned her to lean closer. She did.
“My other boy needs to find a wife,” he whispered. “He’s thirty-one. Got any good ideas for him?”
Kate felt her face grow hot. “Surely he can find a wife by himself,” she whispered back.
“He hasn’t so far,” Dan said. “Think about it and do what you can. I’m going to sleep now. Good night.”
Laughing inside, despite her embarrassment, Kate stood up and went to the door. Dan called her back. “I’m getting a window tomorrow. You mentioned that to him, didn’t you?”
“I did, Mr. Avery. When will he do it?”
“As soon as he gets back from dropping off Pete.” Mr. Avery smiled at her, and her heart turned over. “’Cept for finding a wife, he’s a prompt fellow. Good night, now.”
Ned got Pete to town, gave him all sorts of admonition and advice that probably rolled right off his back, if the amused look Mrs. Bradley gave him was any indication.
“We’ll watch out for Peter,” she said as they stood on the sidewalk. “You’ve been a good brother, but he’s growing up and needs duties of his own.”
It always rolled around to duty, he thought, on the ride home, after purchasing a pane of glass at the lumberyard and anchoring it safely between two-by-fours. He’d had this conversation with himself before, especially during hard times. To his gratification, there wasn’t much sting to this duty. Pa wanted a window and he could install one. He’d have to ask Kate if he could borrow her room for Pa, because he doubted he had time to finish the window today, what with winter bringing darkness so much sooner.
He could put Kate in his room and he could bundle up and sleep in Pa’s bed for the one night it might take him to finish the little project and caulk the new window against the bitter winter headed their way soon. Ned knew the doctor had warned Pa not to exert himself at all, but the more he thought about that injunction, the more he wondered about it. Sure, Daniel Avery’s battered heart might last longer if he never did anything more strenuous than sitting up, but to what end?
He wanted to mull it all around with Katie Peck, and see what she thought about helping Pa walk down to the kitchen, or maybe even outside. One of the more pleasant byproducts of his impulsive hiring of her was the discovery that behind her solemn face was a sensible brain.
He glanced at the two-story Odd Fellows Hall as he crossed the tracks and rode south toward home, wondering if Katie knew a few dance steps. Mrs. Bradley had mentioned a dance there in mid-December and asked, “Who are you saving yourself for, Edward Avery?”
He was saving himself for no one and he thought Katie might help. She was a woman and she could probably dance. Would it hurt to ask for help?
As he passed through the gate onto Avery land, Ned’s thoughts took him in another direction, one that surprised him. For years, Pa had promised Ma a real house. Once she died, Pa had lost interest. Just thinking of a house instead of a log cabin made Ned stop at the top of the little rise and stare down at his home. The logs were stripped of bark now, the result of hungry deer and elk during many a bleak midwinter. He’d been meaning to paint the door, and even had the paint to do it, but hadn’t bothered.
It was time for a real house. He’d humor Pa by putting in a window so he could see a sampling of Avery land through it, but maybe in the spring he could draw up some plans. Kate would probably have good ideas.
With the buckboard driven into the open-sided wagon lean-to, and his horse rubbed, grained and watered, Ned went inside, sniffing appreciatively. Kate had a way with beans, beef and onions. He served himself a bowl of stew. Kate had found the ceramic bowls from somewhere and retired the tin cups.
He heard laughter as he walked down the hall, bowl in hand. He saw his copy of Roughing It in Kate’s lap, and wondered how it was that a quiet mill girl from Maine knew just how to handle his father. He sat on the edge of Pa’s bed and ate as she finished the chapter.
“One chapter left,” she said. “What will we do then?”
“I’ll find you another book,” he promised. “Got one somewhere.”
She held out her hand for his now empty bowl and he shook his head. “I can probably struggle all the way back to the kitchen with this.”
“I’m the chore girl,” she reminded him.
Suddenly, as if some cosmic