Trudie served the meal, and waited for him to tell her how good it was, but he didn’t. He ate it like he’d been eating her cooking for twenty years. She wasn’t sure what was going through his head. He was being very distant, and it bothered her a great deal.
“What time do we need to leave for church in the morning?”
“Around nine. Are you planning to take something for the potluck?” he asked.
“I thought I’d get up early and make chicken and dumplings. It was my most requested meal at the diner.” She wanted to tell him that the dumplings would melt in his mouth, but she wanted to see his face the first time he ate them as well.
“That’s nice.”
His mind was obviously on something else, and she wanted to ask him what was wrong with him, but she wasn’t sure it was her place. She was simply mail-order meals, not a real wife. He’d made that clear. Besides, if Doug wasn’t up to talking about food, there was something very wrong with the world.
After supper, he went to milk the cow while she did the dishes, and then she sat down and wrote a letter. He didn’t watch her this time, instead he sat with ledgers in front of him. “Are you worried about money?” she asked. She had a good deal of money saved from working, so she was ready to help financially if she needed to.
He shook his head, but didn’t say anything else, and she had to wonder again what was wrong. Something was bothering him, and she had no idea how to tell what it was. He wasn’t even making silly jokes about food anymore. Had something happened?
When they went to bed, he made love to her, but there was none of the teasing banter of the night before. It was as if she’d married one man, and as soon as they’d had relations, he became someone else.
She lay awake long after he’d gone to sleep, wondering why he had been so distant. She didn’t much like it, but she would do her best to keep pushing through. There was nothing else to do.
TRUDIE WAS UP EVEN earlier than usual the next morning, and she took the chicken she’d boiled the previous day from the ice box and deboned it. When she was finished with that, she set the chicken pieces in the broth she’d made while cooking the chicken, and then she put it on to boil.
While it started boiling, she made French toast for breakfast and fried bacon to go with it. Doug came down later than usual, going straight to the barn to milk the cows and gather the eggs. He brought them to her, and then settled down at the table, saying a prayer and starting to eat his breakfast.
“Are you feeling sick?” Trudie asked, feeling as if she was grasping at straws.
He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”
And that was the end of the conversation. Trudie waited a few minutes. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not at all.” He ate the last bite, and he stood up. “We’ll leave for church in two hours. I need to check on some things before we go.”
She watched him leave, wondering if she’d done something to upset him. Maybe she shouldn’t have thrown the cherry at him, but he’d seemed to take it in stride at the time. There was no reason for him to be ignoring her now.
He returned just before they needed to leave for church, and hurried upstairs to change into clothes that weren’t covered with dirt...and was that blood? She had no idea what he’d been doing, but she knew it was blood. She wanted to follow him up the stairs and ask him why he was covered with blood, but she didn’t. Instead, she put a lid on her pot and carried it out to the wagon that he’d already hitched for the ride.
She put the pot onto the wagon seat, and then she climbed up beside it. Even if he was going to act strangely, she was going to enjoy her first morning at the new church.
Chapter 6
Doug talked little on the way to church, and Trudie’s attempts to get him to speak fell on deaf ears. “Did you have blood on your shirt this morning?” she asked. She wanted to know if it was animal blood or human blood, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the information from him. He’d been so quiet lately it was starting to make her think she was doing something wrong, but she had no clue what it could be.
He shrugged, not ever looking at her. She had no idea what on earth she’d done that was so wrong, but she was determined not to let his attitude hurt her at all. Instead she’d go to his church and meet as many people as she could. She didn’t know anyone in the area yet, but she wanted to. She needed to make some friends to make up for the sisters she was missing so desperately.
When they pulled up in front of the church, he quickly handed her down, and she took the pot she was carrying inside the church, letting Mrs. Goldman show her where to put the pot.
Mrs. Goldman led her to the area where all the pots were waiting for them, talking as they walked. “How’s married life treating you, dear? Your husband has lost a bit of the hungry look he always has.”
Trudie laughed. “I’m thankful. I thought cooking for him would be a never-ending job.” She finally had time to do a few other things since his appetite was sated for a short while.
“Well, I can assure you it’s not over yet.” Mrs. Goldman smiled. “Let me introduce you to a few of the ladies. I think you’ll enjoy meeting Mrs. March a great deal, because she lives close to you.
