When Beatrice woke early the following morning, it took her a moment to realize where she was. Arthur had been true to his word, taking a blanket and a pillow to sleep in the parlor on the sofa.

She spent a moment lying in bed, praying for peace as she went about her day. A new marriage should be a time of joy, but she was still filled with sorrow about her parents.

She quickly dressed, having slept in just her petticoats, and hurried into the kitchen to start breakfast. There was little she could cook with the ingredients Arthur had on hand, but he’d been pleased with her beans and cornbread the night before, declaring them a million times better than what he could do.

She stopped short when she reached the kitchen, looking at the bounty of food available to her. Spotting Arthur sitting at the table sipping coffee, she grinned. “Where did all this food come from? Surely the store isn’t open so early!”

He shrugged. “I know the owner and asked him to open up early for me. I do the same when he wants to send a telegram. We try to keep each other happy.”

Beatrice smiled when she saw the eggs and bacon. “Would you like eggs for breakfast? Or I could make some pancakes? Do you have a preference?”

Arthur looked at her for a moment before a grin spread across his face. “Do you have any idea how wonderful it is for a man like me to have choices about what he can eat? I’ve had beans and cornbread for three meals a day for years. I’m going to have a real breakfast!”

She laughed. “Yes, you are. And I will do my best to never make beans and cornbread for you.”

“Let’s have pancakes. With bacon!”

“Did you get a lot of supplies? Or just enough to see us through breakfast?” She saw some flour, milk, eggs, butter, syrup, and bacon. But what else had he gotten?

“Just breakfast. We’ll go to the store after we eat, and you can choose a couple of different fabrics to make yourself some dresses, and we’ll get some food to fill the ice box. I can’t believe I’m going to get real meals!”

She laughed softly. “Will you want me to bring you lunch at the office?”

“As long as you make it, I can pop over to the kitchen to eat it. I’m close enough that I can still hear if a telegraph comes in.” The house and the telegraph office were really one and the same, with only a door separating them.

“All right. It’ll be nice to have three meals a day together.” Already he was starting to grow on her. At first, she’d thought he was handsome, but now she was seeing that he was more than that. He was a good man. She was proud to be able to call him her husband.

“I hope so. My mother always said that she loved my father as long as she didn’t have to put up with him too much.”

Beatrice grinned. “I can understand that, I think.” She got down a mixing bowl and expertly mixed the batter for pancakes. As soon as she was done, she got out a frying pan and put the bacon on. “Do you mind if I change a few things around the house?”

He shrugged. “It’s your house as much as it is mine…more, to my way of thinking. You’ll be spending more time here, because you’ll be home while I’m at the office. You have to make it your own.”

“All right.” She could already envision how nice the house would look with a gingham tablecloth and matching curtains.

“I do want you to promise me that you won’t leave the house without me.”

She frowned. “Being a prisoner in my own home isn’t exactly appealing.” Did he not trust her at all? She knew they’d just met, but why would he marry someone if he thought he’d never be able to believe in her?

“You won’t be a prisoner! I worry that someone will snatch you like happened to the other ladies. You’d be welcome to leave if Creede was safer.”

“I see.” She felt bad for jumping to conclusions. “I’m sorry I said that about being a prisoner. I understand your safety concerns.”

“Good, because I need to know you’ll be all right while I work. I would rather you didn’t open the door to any men except the reverend, either.” He knew keeping her away from other people in the middle of town was a lot to ask of her, but he also knew it would keep her alive.

“There’s no one else you trust?” she asked. Surely that couldn’t be so. The man had been alone for a long time. He had to have made friends over the years.

He shrugged. “No one that I’d trust with your life. You’re too precious.” He blushed a bit after saying the words, realizing he sounded like a lovesick idiot.

Beatrice blushed, not looking at him. She didn’t know how to react to such a thing. She’d never had a beau, so someone saying sweet words to her like that really threw her for a loop. “I’ll be as careful as I can be.”

“Good. That’s all I ask.”

After breakfast, they walked over to the mercantile together. “I’m happy to come over here with you any time you want me to, but you’ll have to let me know.”

She nodded. “So if I run out of milk, I need to come get you and have you walk with me to the mercantile. It seems a little more difficult, but if you’re sure that’s the only way I’ll be safe, then that’s what I’ll do.” Already she respected him more than any other man she’d known. That was a good way to start a marriage.

The mercantile was relatively quiet when they arrived. She quickly chose fabric for two dresses and a plain white for a couple of aprons and a nightgown. Then she searched for food. She wanted to cook him wonderful meals, because she knew how long he’d lived on beans and cornbread. No one should have to eat the same thing day in and day out for years.

She made sure she chose things that would appeal to him, but she also got some things to make a cake. She was sure he’d be thrilled with the treat. She wanted to please him, and that couldn’t be a bad thing.

On the walk back, they each carried a wooden box filled with their purchases. “How long will it take you to make the dresses?” he asked.

“I should have the first done by tomorrow evening,” she told him. “If I didn’t have to cook, I could be done faster, but I have this strange feeling you’re looking forward to me cooking for you.”

“I really am. I dreamed that you made a pot roast with carrots and potatoes.” He was all but drooling as he talked about it.

She grinned. He must not have paid much attention to her purchases except to pay for them, because she’d gotten what she needed for pot roast. Making that for supper would make her happy, because she knew it would please him.

They were almost to the house when a man stopped in front of her, bending low as if he was a courtly knight of old. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Archibald Grady.”

She looked over at Arthur, wondering how he would handle this, deciding to follow his lead whatever he did. She wasn’t about to speak to a stranger on the street, anyway.

Arthur wanted to kick Archie out of their way so they could continue on. The man had never been a favorite of his, and he thought he was better than everyone else in town anyway. “Archie, this is my wife, Beatrice. We married yesterday.”

Archie frowned. “I see. I guess you had to marry him because you met him before me. If only you could have held out a little longer for the better man.”

Beatrice shook her head. “I married the right man.” She nodded cordially and walked around the man, wanting to break into a run to get away from him, but she didn’t have it in her to run on her ankle. There was something about the way he talked that made her skin crawl.

Arthur couldn’t help but grin at the shocked look on Archie’s face as his wife made it clear she wouldn’t have chosen him regardless. “Stay away from him,” Arthur said in a low voice as they reached their home.

She nodded. “You don’t even have to tell me that. There’s something about that man that makes me feel like there are spiders climbing all over every inch of my body.”

“Now that he knows you live here, I’d keep the door locked during the day as well.” He didn’t want to risk anything happening to her, and there was something about Archie that made him think danger followed him around.

“I will do just that. I’ll only open to another woman or the reverend.” For now, she was busy enough that she wouldn’t need to leave. She had so much to do to get settled in properly.

“Perfect. You’re learning fast, I see.” He carried his box into the kitchen and set it on the table. “I need to get to work. Do you have everything you need?”

She nodded. “I do. I’ll be fine.” As soon as he was gone, she sat down and looked at her ankle. It still throbbed after all the walking she’d done the day before, but at least the swelling was down.

She thought about soaking it in cold water for a moment, but she knew it was more important she get started cooking and sewing. Starting by mixing up the dough for a loaf of bread, she sat at the table kneading it, rather than standing as she normally would.

For some reason, Beatrice was worried that Arthur would think she was weak if she told him about her ankle injury, so she’d done her best to not even limp in front of him. She would baby it as much as she could during the day, but when he was around, he would never see her pain. She had landed on her feet after her tragedy, but it wouldn’t stay that way if she didn’t appear to be strong. No man wanted a weakling for a wife.

For lunch, she fixed a thick stew, knowing that he would be hungry when he came in. Before it was time to eat, the bread would be ready as well, and he could have a feast.

After everything was cooking, she sat down and propped her foot up, carefully cutting out her first dress. She wasn’t worried about the styles at all, more worried about having something that was serviceable.

By the time Arthur came home for lunch, she had the bodice of the dress already basted together. Her fingers were sore from sewing so quickly, but she didn’t care. She served them each a big bowl of the stew and put the fresh bread on the table along with some butter.

Arthur rubbed his hands together when he saw the food. “I am already thrilled I married you. Food is definitely the way to keep me happy.” He picked up his spoon and took a big bite.

“Is there a church in town?” she asked. He’d said Reverend Bing was from Bachelor, which indicated to her that there probably wasn’t. She’d always attended church regularly, so the idea of not having one bothered her.

He shook his head. “We can drive to Bachelor for church if you’d like, but it’s a long drive.”

She frowned. “It was between here and Bachelor that my parents died.” She wasn’t sure she could handle making that drive anytime soon.

His hand reached out to cover hers. “We don’t have to go if it frightens you.”

“I think it might. I’m not sure how long it’ll be before I can take that road.”

“Do you want me to send some men down to try to recover their bodies?”

Beatrice’s eyes met his. “I’d like to give them a proper burial. Is it safe for people to go and try to get them?”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not, but if I offer enough money, I can get a couple of men who would be willing to risk it.”

“I won’t risk anyone else, when I know they’re gone. How could I be willing to sacrifice more lives to that horrible ravine?”

“I think that’s the smart answer. I’m sorry.” He wanted to take care of her, and he knew it would help her to have their bodies safely buried, but how could he risk the lives of others to make it happen?

She shrugged. “I suppose I knew it wasn’t safe when I asked. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if more people died because of my desire to bury my parents. I can say goodbye without their actual bodies being there.” It would be harder, but it wouldn’t be worth the potential cost.

“I could ask Reverend Bing to come to Creede and perform a funeral service if you think it would help you to feel better about it all.”

Beatrice considered for a moment. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to ask anyone to drive that narrow road for any reason.”

“All right.” He bit into his bread, closing his eyes with pleasure. He chewed slowly, determined to change the subject. “You are a fabulous cook.”

She grinned. “I do enjoy cooking a lot. Not as much as reading, but there’s nothing I enjoy quite as much as reading.” She couldn’t wait to start baking for him. She wanted to spoil him with treats.

“We should read together tonight. Do you enjoy reading aloud? Or having someone read aloud to you?”

“I enjoy both. Maybe you could read to me, and I could continue working on my dress.” She loved the idea of spending time with him, but she really needed her dress to be done as soon as possible.

“Well, you’re an easy wife to entertain.”

“I’ve never felt the need for someone to entertain me. I’ll be just fine staying home every night.” Beatrice had never been one to run around with friends instead of reading or simply staying home to do her chores. She believed in living a simple life, so that’s what she did.

“Sounds good to me. The only real entertainment in this town is the saloon anyway, and I just don’t see you feeling comfortable there.”

“I don’t either. Do you go there?”

“No, I never have. I’ve never seen the appeal of working all week to throw my money away on Friday evening. I know so many men who have nothing left of their paycheck at the end of the weekend, though. It’s always made me sad.”

She frowned. “There’s nothing we can do?”

“I can’t think of any ways to keep people away, so I just mind my own business, and live my life the way I know I ought to.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and got to his feet. “Lunch was wonderful. Thank you for cooking it for me.”

“Thank you for marrying me and giving me a place to live and food to cook. I am counting my blessings. My life could have taken a very bad turn if I hadn’t met you on that bench.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’m the lucky one. I’m very pleased to have you as my wife.”

As he left, she smiled, thinking that she truly was blessed. Blessed that a man like him had been the first to see her, and not someone like Archie.

* * *

True to his word, after supper that evening, Arthur read to her from one of his books. “This one is called Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. Have you read it?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I’ve spent most of my life reading the classics. I have read almost all of Shakespeare’s plays. I’ve had little funds to buy the current popular novels.”

“I can understand that. It truly is the only way I’ve splurged over my years here. I have always wished there was someone close who shared my love of books, but there was no one.”

She sat beside him on the couch as she stitched her dress. She’d never made a garment quite as quickly as she was trying to make this one, so it was a new experience. As he read, she laughed at all the appropriate places, imagining the happenings in the story.

When he finally closed the book, she smiled at him. “Thank you for sharing that lovely story with me.”

“I can read some more tomorrow evening, if you’d like.”

She nodded emphatically. “I’m enjoying it very much. It makes the time go by so quickly as I work.” She carefully folded the dress, putting it into a basket she’d purchased to keep her sewing and mending in.

He moved closer to her on the sofa, his arm going around her shoulders. “When the reverend told us to kiss at the end of the wedding yesterday, I knew that I wanted our first time to be private, when we’d had a little more time to get to know one another.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, nodding a bit. “I can agree with that.” Did that mean he’d kiss her? She wasn’t sure how she felt about doing something so intimate so soon after meeting him, but they were married.

“I feel like we’ve done that today. Would you mind if I kissed you?”

Beatrice looked up into his eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “I’ve never been kissed before, so I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Arthur smiled. “I’ve rarely kissed anyone, and I love the idea of kissing you. If you don’t mind that is.”

“I don’t.” She lifted her face, waiting as his mouth descended on hers. His lips were soft against hers, and she found she liked it, leaning in closer. Her hands found his shoulders, and she kneaded the muscles under his shirt, before she pulled back, looking up at him with a smile. “You were right. That was much nicer than a rushed first kiss with the reverend watching us the whole while.”

“I’m glad you approve.” He stroked her arm with one hand. “I’ll say goodnight now.”

She stood up, taking her sewing basket with her. “Goodnight, Arthur.” She hurried from the room, stopped, then went back. “Is it a bad thing that I’m letting you distract me from my sorrow over the deaths of my parents?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so at all. Your parents would have wanted you to find happiness, wouldn’t they?”

“They would have. Thank you for helping me find it.” She turned and walked away, not allowing herself to limp until she was out of his view. She’d spent a great deal less time on her ankle today, and it was already feeling a bit better.

She quickly undressed and slid between the sheets, lying in the bed staring up at the ceiling. She relived the kiss they’d shared over and over, thinking about just how much she enjoyed having his lips pressed against hers. She didn’t know if that made her a wanton woman or not, and she wished her mother were there to talk to. She always knew the right thing to say to Beatrice when she was unsure of herself.

At that moment it hit her for the first time that her mother would never be there to run to with her troubles again. She wouldn’t be there to hold her first grandchild, or to tell her that she’d done the right thing by marrying so quickly. A life without her father didn’t hit her nearly as hard as the idea of a life without her mother did.

She wished there was a way for her to ask just a few more questions. For her to hug her mother one more time, but the opportunity was gone…just as her mother was. She rolled to her side, hugging her knees to her chest. She would strive to be the kind of mother her own had been as a way to honor her.

Beatrice fell asleep with a smile on her lips and a tear on her cheek. She felt as if she’d truly said goodbye as she laid there in the dark, whispering to her mother. Telling her how much she’d miss her and the things they’d never do together again. How was it possible to get past the death of a beloved parent? Marrying quickly was a good start. Maybe others wouldn’t see it the same way, but she certainly did. She would live her life as her parents would have wanted. It was the only way to honor them.