Mikayla felt movement beside her and the warmth left the bed. She realized at some point in the night, her body had shifted closer to his so they were lightly touching. Cracking open an eye, she saw that light was just beginning to filter through the curtains. Lucas was dressed and headed out the door without so much as a "good morning." Mikayla threw off her covers, dressing in a modest green dress, she braided her hair down her back. Her mother would've scolded her, saying braids were for children, but Mikayla loved having her long hair hanging down her back. She would have worn it loose if it weren't considered improper. After she was ready for the day, she moved out to the kitchen, noting Mark's sleeping frame in the corner bed. She quietly gathered supplies to make eggs for breakfast. Coming up short on eggs, she hunted for a basket and headed out to the nesting boxes.
Walking outside, Mikayla looked around the land for Lucas, but had no luck. She gathered some eggs, returning to the house she started cooking breakfast. Mark stirred as delicious aromas filled the small dwelling, rubbing his eyes he stared in awe at the hash browns and omelets she had made. Lucas entered, his brow already sweaty and his boots dirty from work. Seeing the spread on the table, shock crossed his face. "Well, you certainly didn't lie about knowing your way around a kitchen," he remarked.
She smiled, sitting with them and eating quietly. "So, what's on the agenda today?" She questioned.
"Well, Mark is going to school, and I have some business in town. You're welcome to come," he said. Honestly, having a pretty young woman around was something he could get used to. Especially one as pleasant as her. The thought of her nestled beside him on the seat of the wagon made his nerves flutter like a teenage boy. It had been a long time since he'd felt giddy around a woman, but Mikayla was growing on him. Fast.
"Well, I did make a list of some things I might need." She told him. "I can use some of the money I brought, I just thought maybe some fabric for curtains to spruce this place up a bit, and some other groceries, but they're not necessities, I can make do," she was rambling, but she wanted to have purpose in this household, and housework was something she was familiar with. She had often helped her mother with odd jobs to pay the bills. Her mother had been an incredibly hard working woman, cooking and cleaning for the wealthier residents of Charlottesville, and helping as a midwife all hours of the day for the less fortunate. Her mother had taught her compassion for the less fortunate, although they barely had enough themselves. Mikayla knew what it was like to live on pennies, and she did not want to impose on Lucas's life with frivolous wants.
He glanced over her list, nodding he replied, "this looks fine." She smiled shyly, breathing a sigh of relief, she cleared and cleaned the dishes while Lucas and Mark prepped the wagon. Climbing up on the seat beside him, she sat tall, finally feeling like she'd found a family.
When they arrived in town, Lucas stopped the wagon near Hattie's store. Climbing down, he moved to Mikayla's side of the wagon, holding out his hands to help her down. As she stepped off the wagon, his large hands held her at her waist, lifting her to the ground. He felt a jolt of excitement as his fingertips felt her slim waist, and once she was on the ground, his hands lingered a little too long. He saw Mikayla blush, and he quickly stepped away, clearing his throat he said, "I've got to talk to Micah, put your things on my account," turning, he nodded to Mark, "have a good day at school, son." And he walked away.
Mikayla smiled at Mark, who gave her a shy wave and said, "see ya," racing off to the school.
She made her way into the store, browsing through the fabrics. She settled on a pretty calico blue fabric, it wasn't the finest linen in the store, but it was cheaper, and she could buy enough to have extra for a new dress or shirts for the McCain boys. After selecting her fabric and gathering her kitchen supplies, she took the things up to Hattie at the counter.
"Put it on Lucas's account, please," she told Hattie, prompting a young woman nearby with a painted face and low cut dress to glance at her curiously, sidling closer. As Hattie wrapped Mikayla's packages, the young woman spoke.
"I don't mean to pry, but what gives you the authority to use Lucas McCain's account?" The woman asked.
"I'm his wife," Mikayla responded, matter of factly.
The young woman's face was surprised, and a man with a vicious grin who had been standing on the porch moved closer to Mikayla. "No way is a woman as purty as you married to that sod buster," he sneered.
Mikayla turned up her nose at the man, stepping around him. He grabbed her arm, sneering down at her. "Unhand me!" She hissed, but the man only stepped closer.
"You best let go of her."
Mikayla and the man turned to the doorway to where Lucas stood, his gun raised. She wrenched her arm out of the man's grasp, moving towards the safety of Lucas.
The slimy man grinned wickedly, raising his hands. "Go ahead, McCain. I ain't armed."
Lucas lowered his gun, glaring at the man he responded, "You best leave my wife alone, Simmons."
Simmons laughed. "You can't watch her all the time!" Winking at Mikayla, he sauntered off towards the saloon.
Mikayla shivered, turning to Lucas. "Who was that man?" She questioned.
He sighed, moving towards the wagon and placing her things inside. "Let's just say not everyone in North Fork thinks of me as a friend."
He helped her up into the wagon, and she didn't ask any questions on the way home. She had a feeling Lucas was the type of man that would have volunteered more information if he thought it would do any good. When they got home, he silently returned to his work, and she went inside to make curtains.
Around noon, she prepared a simple lunch, packing a basket she set off to find Lucas. He was mending some posts in the coral, and she approached, holding up the basket she said, "how about some lunch?"
He smiled, wiping his hands on his pants he joined her under a shade tree. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and she found her eyes wandering to the skin at his chest. She could see he was muscular, his skin bronzed from the sun. The thought of him without the shirt flirted through her mind and she blushed. She had only ever seen shirtless men when they were drunk and disorderly or if her Mother was helping mend an injured man. Never before had she so strongly felt a desire to run her hand over the skin of a man's chest. She was suddenly nervous as she handed him his meal, their hands brushing. She stared at her skirt, unsure of what to say.
"So, what was it like growing up in Virginia?" He asked curiously.
She smiled, shrugging. "I imagine pretty similar to anywhere else."
"You wrote that your mother was a midwife?"
"Yes, my father died before I can remember, and my mother helped as a midwife. When I was older I would go along with her and help as well," she finally looked up into Lucas's gaze asking, "if I may be so bold to ask, what happened to Mark's mother?"
He sighed, "Margaret died when Mark was six. Smallpox."
Mikayla reaches out, touching Lucas's arm tenderly. "My mother died when I was 17 from influenza. She worked so hard trying to care for others with the sickness, she didn't care for herself. I'm sorry, losing someone so suddenly is very hard."
Lucas shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "No matter, that's history now. What made you want to leave Virginia?"
"Well, I was an only child, no immediate family in the area, so I tried to make it work on my own, but good opportunities for a young woman were... slim." She said, a dark cloud washing over her face. "I managed for two years, then put an ad in the paper and here we are!" She said, her mood brightening.
He nodded, curious about the details she was obviously leaving out, but he didn't want to push her. Suddenly, something registered with him. "You're mother died 2 years ago?" He questioned, and she nodded, as he continued,"when you were 17?"
She blushed, realizing she'd been dishonest. "Yes."
He scoffed, "your letter said you were 25, why, you're still a child!" Lucas exclaimed, shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She closed her eyes and sighed, seeing he was upset. She knew she should have been more honest, but she knew she had to prove herself before explaining why she had given false information. She could only hope Lucas would understand.
"I'll be twenty in three months time," she began. "I'm sorry I led you to believe I was older, but putting my age as nineteen on that advertisement would have attracted the wrong type of man." She was hoping he understood what she meant, but she could see confusion on his face, so she continued. "A young, unmarried orphan woman is easily prey to the evils of men," she told him. "I saw it too many times with the saloon girls. Most of them turned to that life because they had no where else to go, and I was determined to not let that happen to me. But alas, a young woman is nothing in this world unless she has ties to a man, her husband or father. So, I filled out that ad with the hopes of being able to find a man who would let me pursue my own interests as well as fulfilling my duties as a wife. I had hoped by saying I was 25, I could weed out the slime and have men think I was an ugly old maid unwanted by others, not prized breeding stock. I wanted someone who cared about my interests and passions as I said in the letter, not my youth."
Done with her rant, she sat back, watching him take it in. She could see he was processing what she said, and finally he responded, "I see," and continued to quietly eat his lunch, his thoughts spinning. She sighed, pointing out, "You would have never given me a chance if you knew I was only nineteen."
Again, he was silent. She began to gather the remains of their lunch, but he stopped her hands, looking into her eyes he said fiercely, "life out here is not always a picnic. You're going to have to grow up fast. I didn't deserve to be misled."
She was very aware of his touch on her hand, and she was embarrassed because she knew he was right. She should have been honest after they met. Her face turned red, her eyes falling to her skirt she whispered, "I'm sorry," as she willed herself not to cry.
He sighed, "I wish you would've been honest. I should've known you're still a child." He got up and walked off, his mind swimming. Lucas was thirty, which meant she was closer to being Mark's age then his. How had he not immediately thought to check that the things she said in her letters were true? He'd gotten so caught up in the wedding day and his eagerness to have a companion, he hadn't given it a second thought. Especially when he saw her in that wedding dress. And she had seemed so genuine. What else had she lied about?
Mark came home that afternoon, jabbering to Mikayla about his school day and his life on the McCain farm.
"I have my own horse! Do you wanna see it?!" He asked excitedly as she prepared dinner. She smiled gently at him, putting down her utensils, and followed him to the barn where a dark, strong stallion stood in a stall. "Hey boy!" Mark exclaimed, rubbing his nose. He was showing Mikayla his saddle when Lucas entered, looking surprised to see them there.
"Pa! I was just showing Mikayla Blue Boy! Can Mikayla get her own horse too?" He asked excitedly.
Lucas glanced to Mikayla, who looked at the ground, admitting, "I don't know how to ride."
Mark's mouth dropped open in shock. "Pa, we've gotta teach her! Can we, Pa?"
Lucas answered Mark, but his gaze never left Mikayla. "If she wants."
Mikayla looked at Mark, smiling. "I'd like that very much."
As they ate supper later that night, Mark was babbling the whole time. Mikayla began cleaning up the dishes and helped Mark with his homework while Lucas did the evening chores. It was getting late, Mikayla kept glancing out the window, wondering what was keeping Lucas. Mark ran out to the barn to help his father, both of them soon returning with Lucas instructing it was Mark's bedtime. He left again, headed back out to the barn, and as Mikayla helped Mark put his books away, he said to her confused, "he wasn't doin nothing out there. Just sitting with Razor talkin to him. Why's pa gotta talk to his horse when he's got us to talk to?"
Mikayla's heart dropped. She had a feeling Lucas was avoiding talking to someone in the house, and she knew it wasn't Mark. She got ready to go to sleep herself, climbing into the bed, she lay awake for a long time. How long was he going to ignore her? Finally, she got up, wrapping her blanket around her in the cool night air, she walked the short distance to the barn and opened the door, seeing him asleep in the hay next to his horse's stall. She silently draped her blanket over him and returned to the house.
Alone.
