Chapter Five
Marynne
Sam left and I closed the door behind him, then lay on the bed and cried. I didn't know what else to do. Grandmother would be furious with me for losing the position she had arranged through her minister. Her insistence that I stay home until after the meeting with her financial advisors caused the delay, but she wouldn't see it that way. No matter what, she wouldn't help me in any way now until my six months ran out. I had nothing to contribute to the world, and now here I was, dependent on the kindness of strangers. Hopelessness settled over me like a heavy blanket. It occurred to me that perhaps she planned the whole thing this way, to throw me on the mercy of the world without a life preserver. Crushing fear joined all the other emotions as I considered the implications.
If this was her way of paying me back for refusing to marry her friend's son, it seemed she had succeeded. That little graduation gift had been too much. She casually informed me she had found me a husband and handed me a huge engagement ring. When I objected that the man was old enough to be my father, she berated me yet again for my lack of worthwhile contributions to the world, and asked what I expected. I refused outright at the point, and this was my reward. Maybe I should have just gone along with her plans, but I cringed at the thought. All my life—well, almost all—I'd been meek and obedient, but I simply couldn't bring myself to follow her wishes in this. And now, I found myself in an even worse situation, completely at the mercy of a man I didn't even know. Eventually, I had no more tears and exhaustion set in.
I must have fallen deeply asleep because when I woke, it was pitch dark in the room. It took me a moment to realize where I was, and how I got there. The unfamiliar space seemed to close in on me, until I remembered a lamp on the bedside table and found it. Low light filled the room, revealing a spartan space with basic furnishings and no decoration. At least the bed was comfortable, even if my stupid skirt had managed to twist under me and tie my legs into an awkward position. I finally managed to fight my way free.
I sighed and dug into my bag for something comfortable to change into. If I never saw this skirt again, it would be too soon. I found some silky lounge pants and a camisole, gathered my toiletries, and made my way to the bathroom. Sam hadn't exaggerated about it being nothing fancy. The sink, toilet, and tub/shower combo were packed tightly into the small space. Everything was spotlessly clean, though, and fluffy towels hung over the rack.
The hot water carried away the tension from the day, even if there was only one shower head. It seemed luxury could come in surprisingly plain packages. I carefully cleaned up after myself, and put my things back in my bag. I doubted these men would want a woman's products littering their bathroom. I could just imagine what Sam would think if I left a bra hanging over the curtain rod. The look on his face would almost be worth the embarrassment, if not for the risk of appealing to his base instincts.
Back in my room, I spent a few minutes checking messages on my phone. It turned out, the Quicks did have cell phones, and chargers, but Sam really liked to 'mess' with me. He'd confessed, and didn't even look guilty when he handed over a spare charger. All my messages came from Grandmother, wanting a report on my activities thus far. I thought about that for a long time before I replied. I could have lied, but she would find out eventually, if she didn't already know, and that would just make things exponentially worse.
Hello Grandmother, I had a car accident after I arrived. It's out in the country so I won't be able to get the car looked at until tomorrow at the soonest. Because of my late arrival, the minister already brought someone else in to help out. Right now, I'm helping a very nice family with two young children while their mother and father are away. Hope you're resting well.
I could have included all the details, but she hated being given the minutiae of anything. She claimed to be interested only in the 'big picture', which allowed me to make the situation maybe not seem quite as bad as it really was. Until she demanded full details in accordance with her micromanagement mode. Even if it put me in a less than flattering light with Grandmother, Sam had been unexpectedly kind by offering for me to stay here until my car was repaired. I would do my best to make myself useful in an attempt to repay him. However, I still needed to figure out what to do with the rest of my six months and meet Grandmother's requirements.
I checked for online job listings in the area, but there seemed to be nothing to which I was suited. My Bachelors in Fine Arts hardly translated to running a cash register in a convenience store. Maybe I could offer tutoring services? Or decorating? Surely I could do something besides talk to cows and calm them down. Right? After coming up with no good solutions, I finally went back to sleep. Maybe tomorrow would have the answers I needed.
A soft tap at the door roused me. "Marynne? Time to get up." Sam's voice carried through the door and sent me scrambling for my phone to check the time.
Six-twenty-three? In the morning? He had to have been joking. Who on earth willingly got up that early? He knocked again. "Okay, I'm up." I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, then put some thought into what I should wear. I'd packed mostly casual things, so hopefully no one expected me to be particularly well-dressed. Dark gray slacks paired with a flowy cream silk blouse should work for today. Remembering how poorly my heels had fared yesterday, I breathed a sigh of relief when I found my flats at the bottom of my bag. In the bathroom, since the bedroom had no vanity or mirrors, I applied minimal makeup and swept my hair into a simple chignon. After a critical look in the mirror, I determined it would have to do.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, Sam's gaze swept over me, joined by Nate's, and that of an older man I assumed to be their father. The three of them sat at the table, eating breakfast. "Morning, Marynne. You've met Nate, and this is my Dad, Johnathan Quick."
I nodded and extended my hand. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm truly grateful to Sam for inviting me to stay here until my car can be fixed. I promise to stay out of the way, and to make myself useful."
Mr. Quick accepted my handshake, giving me a long appraising look. "Have a seat and dig in. Sam was telling me you helped him with the injured cow yesterday. If you plan on doing more of that, you might want jeans and tee-shirts, or something that won't ruin when you get cow manure on you." He passed me a bowl of steaming sausage slices.
I took a slice out, slightly doubtful. I couldn't recall having ever eaten it before. In fact, I only recognized it because of some fast food restaurant commercial I'd seen.
Seeming to sense my quandary, Sam held a plate of bread. "Here, cut a biscuit in half, put the sausage in it like a sandwich, then smother it with gravy." He passed a big bowl of what looked similar to white sauce, but full of lumps. After I had everything assembled to his satisfaction, he demonstrated how to eat it.
I took a tiny bite at first, but the savory flavors and tender sausage made me a fast convert. I may have moaned with the second bite. "This is delicious!"
Nate and Mr. Quick looked at me oddly. "You've never had sausage, biscuits, and gravy before?" Nate sounded incredulous.
I shook my head, still chewing. "Grandmother only allows toast, poached eggs, and fruit for breakfasts. She's very, uh, selective about the menu at home." I left out the part about her being so neurotic about foods not prepared in her own kitchen that she forbade me to eat anywhere but at home. Of course, when I wasn't home, I had a little more freedom, but I found myself clinging to the habits she had established in me. Part of that was fear for the punishments that would come when, not if, she discovered I'd consumed something she didn't approve of. So I followed the rules.
Mr. Quick grunted. "Sounds like a very particular woman."
I relished another morsel. "She is. Everything in her world is under her strict control and must meet her exacting specifications. Growing up with her wasn't easy." Understatement of the century, but they didn't need to know that.
"I'd say not, from the sound of it."
I ate in silence, pondering how I might spend my day, and made a sudden realization that concerned me. "I don't have jeans or tee-shirts." What if they decided I couldn't help because I didn't have the proper clothing? I looked down at my blouse. Surely it couldn't get that bad, right? The drycleaners could get out red wine, Sharpie, and nearly anything else. It would be fine.
Sam grinned at me. "From what you've said about Grams, I doubt if you even own jeans or tee-shirts."
Heat rose in my cheeks, embarrassment, and a little indignation. "No, I don't. She doesn't feel they're suitable attire for a lady." As a teenager, I hated Grandmother for forbidding the kinds of clothing my peers wore. It felt like she painted a target on my back and made me the butt of ridicule. I survived that, mostly intact. But if Sam made fun of me, I might not live through it. I had no idea why the thought bothered me so much, but I seemed to care about his opinion of me.
He gave me another long look. "You're a tiny thing, probably about the same size as our Gramma. Dad, is it okay if I get out some of her things for Marynne to try?"
Mr. Quick finished his coffee and rose. "Yeah, that'd be best. The clothes need using, and God knows, she can't go to the barn dressed like that." He took his dishes to the sink and let the screen door slam behind him as he left.
I jumped, startled at the sound, and being already nervous seemed to make it worse. My fingers trembled as I tried to sip my coffee.
Sam reached over and placed a warm hand over my forearm. "Hey, Marynne, it's okay. No one here will hurt you. Ever." The concern in his voice warmed and soothed me. Maybe he cared just a little what I thought of him and his family, too. That made me feel better about my concerns for his opinions.
"I know." I tried to blow it off. "I'm just nervous this morning. Sleeping in a strange bed must not agree with me." He didn't need to know all the details of my life.
Nate's chair scraped the floor as he slid it back. "I'm going to get the hay rolled today, hell or high water. Tired of Dad bitching about it. Have a good day, Marynne. Later, Sam." His journey out the door mimicked his father's, right down to the slamming door and the heavy thud of boots on the wooden porch.
I managed to contain my startle reflex this time. "Do we go see Daisy again this morning?" The need to fill the silence with conversation probably betrayed my anxiety too, but Sam gave no indication.
"As soon as we get the dishes done. While Ande's not here, the house rule is whoever finishes last takes care of clean up." He started water in the sink. "Don't let me forget this thing when we go out. Have to listen for the kids to wake up." He put the baby monitor thing on the counter.
I immediately felt at a loss again as he added soap. I'd watched the maids wash dishes when I slipped into the kitchen for a forbidden treat occasionally. The cook always kept the most delicious cookies in a jar on the counter for the staff to enjoy. Whenever I had the chance, I would sneak one. Luckily for me, the staff all kept my secret. Grandmother plied her belt liberally when I broke the rules.
"How can I help?" I hated to confess my ignorance of all things domestic, but it seemed I had little choice.
"How about you wash, and I'll dry?"
I nodded and stepped up to the sink, staring into the sudsy water, unsure of myself. How hard could it be? I stuck my hands in and flinched as the water scalded my hands.
"Too hot? Sorry." He turned the cold water on and took my hands, holding them under the blessedly cool stream. "Here, try it now." He passed me a dishcloth.
I nodded, sucked in a breath, and plunged my hands back in. Thankfully, the temperature was tolerable, so I mimicked what I'd seen in the kitchen at home, and raised a plate, swiped at it with the cloth, then dropped it into the rinse water. Maybe this wasn't so bad.
Sam picked up the plate from the sink as I raised the next one to wash. Then he plopped the first one back into the soapy water. "Have you washed dishes by hand before?"
I dropped my head. "Is it that obvious?"
He grinned. "It is. Here, switch me places. You grab them from the rinse water, dry them off, and just stack them there and we'll get them put away in a little bit." His quick and efficient movements soon had all the dishes cleaned, and it took me a few minutes to catch up with the drying, but I managed. He opened the fridge as I dried the last plate. "Hmm. Ande left us dinners already made for while she's gone, and instructions how to make them edible. Lasagna sound good?"
If I hadn't already been so full, my stomach would have undoubtedly rumbled a response. "It does. I love Italian."
We finished in the kitchen, then Sam disappeared into the attic for a few moments, returning with an armload of women's clothing. The jeans were a little loose, and the shirts a little snug, but the boots he handed me fit perfectly. Appropriately dressed, I followed him out to the barn to check on Daisy. The unfamiliar texture of the denim against my skin made me aware of every tiny movement I made, and stimulated parts of me I would rather not think about while in Sam's company.
It could have been wishful thinking on my part, but I was pretty sure Daisy was glad to see me. Sam tied her to the wall for his safety as well as hers, he explained, and proceeded to check her leg while I patted and talked nonsense to her. When he finished, he gathered his supplies, patted Daisy's side, and left the stall after releasing her.
"You must be good medicine. It looks a little better today."
Those words sent elation coursing through me, and I couldn't contain my broad smile.