A Bride for Keeps by Melissa Jagears

silverware to the table. “John, please set the
     table. Ambrose, get the napkins.” She turned to Everett. “You’re staying for dinner
     tonight—no arguing. Won’t hurt you none to talk to her over dinner.”
    “I’m sorry, Rachel. If I’m still here I’ll take lunch, but I’m expecting my lumber
     this evening or tomorrow. Want to make sure they put it in the right spot.”
    Dex left off fiddling with his rope. “So you done bought everything? Enough for a
     house?”
    Everett nodded. “Yes. But next week, we’ll just put up the barn. I’ll do the house
     myself.”
    “Why not let us help you put up the frame while we’re there?”
    “Not sure what I want yet.” Everett glanced around theStantons’ three-room home. The living area felt large until the entire family crowded
     in. The kids’ loft above and the bedroom behind the table weren’t much in space, but
     nicely done. To make a house as nice as this one, he’d need time. If Julia did marry
     him, they’d have to make do with his rickety cabin—not that she’d be willing to live
     in such a place, especially since his animals would have nicer housing.
    The door creaked open. Julia entered, fancy leather shoes on and hair coiled at her
     neck. Her face glowed as she set the bucket by her feet, sloshing milk on the floor.
     “I did it, Rachel. What do I do now?”
    Rachel instructed her on how to strain the milk. Something any child in Kansas knew
     how to do without being told. Julia didn’t belong here, but rather in some fancy house,
     in a big city like New York or Boston—where she came from.
    Why had she left? No matter what the answer, it wouldn’t change facts. Julia might
     find a few farm chores exhilarating, but they would turn into drudgery all too soon.
     He’d find out how committed she was to the idea of being a farmer’s wife at the barn
     raising. One glance at his farm, and she’d surely run.

Chapter 4
    The Parkers’ wagon pulled in a few hours late for the barn raising. Too bad Ned decided
     to show up at all. Had the echo of hammers floating across the gully guilted him into
     coming over? Everett hadn’t forgotten the look in his neighbor’s eye the day Julia
     arrived. And he still wanted to pummel him for it. He jogged to the stopped wagon.
     “Good morning to you.”
    Ned’s face remained expressionless as he leaned his tall, thin frame away from the
     very plain woman with wide shoulders next to him. He spat on the ground. “A good morning
     now that the wind’s died down.”
    Everett shifted his gaze. “Mrs. Parker, how do you do?”
    Giving him no answer, Helga stepped onto the wagon wheel and to the ground without
     assistance. Though Everett smiled at her, she didn’t return the favor. Her eyes simply
     met Everett’s for a second before she ducked her head.
    Everett jerked his head up at Ned and narrowed his eyes at the man’s indifference
     to his wife. “Hope you brought your hammer.”
    Ned jumped in the back and picked up a few tools. “That and a plane.” He hopped off
     the wagon.
    Mrs. Parker bit her lip, her arms wrapped around a small basket.
    Ned left them and headed toward the construction site, where the postmaster and his
     sons, along with Dex and William, had already helped put together two walls of the
     barn.
    Everett offered his arm to Helga. “I’ll take you to the other women.”
    “I bring bread.” She gestured to the covered basket. Her head tipped down so low he
     couldn’t see her face.
    “I appreciate it.” Even if the bread was as stale as ten-year-old crackers, he’d not
     tell this woman for the world. She surely received enough criticism. Why had God blessed
     a man like Ned with a wife that had been meant for him? But Everett no longer felt
     hurt when he thought of how she’d left him for Ned, only compassion.
    He opened his shack’s door for Helga. Julia lay sprawled on the uneven floor, reaching
     for Emma under the table. Her pointy boots kicked out