But as far as the rest of her body was concerned, there was no area that did not feel abused and fatigued.
Her ears. Maybe her ears were uninjured. She reached up and touched each of the delicate lobes and got a bit of satisfaction in knowing they were intact. Of course, the beautiful earrings she often wore were hidden away. She sighed. She'd made her choice, she loved Matt. She simply needed to adjust.
Looking at her hands, however, she nearly wept. Dry and cracked. Her nails brittle. She'd devoted herself to keeping her hands soft and supple, ladylike and genteel. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for one of Minnie's lotions that kept her hands the envy of so many.
But not anymore. The best she could hope for was a bit of lotion from the general store but that never seemed to get enough time to really work since her hands were always busy with something, be it the cooking or cleaning, laundry or tending the garden.
She reached up to push her hair off her forehead and noticed that it now felt coarse and rough. She no longer had the leisure to add conditioners and herbs and then wait for them to penetrate her hair and do their magic.
Glancing at the sink, she considered giving her hair a good washing but then the thought of pumping yet more water... oh, it was just too much.
A slow tear trickled down her cheek and she thought with longing of her old life where all she needed to do was ring a bell and someone would appear in a fresh clean uniform to do her bidding. "I'd like a cup of tea with milk. And be sure to warm the milk, otherwise it cools the tea too quickly." How she had taken all those advantages for granted? She also cringed to think of how she'd expected others to do so much for her maintenance. Yes, she did take some pride in the things she'd learned and the way she'd been able to care for her husband, but... every day? Every single day?
She'd had no idea. And it had only been a week. There was no break in sight. No end to the daily grind of dishes and cooking and sweeping and laundry. Over and over ad infinitum.
Oh mercy.
Glancing out the window she saw it was a beautiful day. Perfect for a ride in the carriage for some fresh air or a stroll in the park. Maybe even a picnic.
But those days were behind her. That was Elizabeth’s life. She was Lizzie now.
Forcing herself to stand and get back to work, she retrieved the kettle of hot water from the stove and poured it into the dish pan, then she added soap and gathered up the dirty dishes. She scraped the remnants of breakfast into the scrap bucket and then paused to look at the plates in her hands.
They weren't even pretty. Or delicate. They were sturdy and functional and did the job they were intended for.
And she hated them.
There she said it.
Every time she touched or ate from them a pit formed in her stomach. They were just so — ordinary.
Her feelings shamed her. They were only dishes after all, but they represented so much. The dramatic change in her circumstances and also just the drudgery of her daily life.
This didn’t happen in any of the romance novels she’d read.
Of course, no one wrote romance novels about ordinary people. She sighed and a tear trickled down her cheek.
Without thinking, she reached up to brush the tear away and as she did so, the plate in her hand slipped free and shattered all over the floor with a clatter that made her jump.
She gasped and stared at the remnants scattered around her feet.
A slow smile spread across her face.
She dropped another.
And giggled.
A cup followed, the loud crash of it shattering filled her with satisfaction. Stress fell away.
Another cup hit the floor and then two saucers.
She looked at the mess on the floor. She should have felt guilty. But she didn’t.
Tossing her apron on the floor she headed out the back door. She needed a break.
* * *
There was no park in Juniper Junction like there was in St. Louis. No fancy hotels to which she could go for afternoon tea. Of course there were no theaters or museums.
She stared down Main Street at the sad excuse for a town. One general store that included Josie who was the best seamstress in town. Not that she had anything against Josie. She did nice work and her designs were intriguing. She supposed they were extraordinary considering she had no exposure to the latest fashions or trends. Of course, the latest fashion trends were impractical for the ladies of Juniper Junction who were all toiling away over washboards and hot stoves.
Including Lizzie.
Not wishing to face anyone at the moment, she headed in the opposite direction, toward the Windy River and the path that ran along its banks. At first her steps pounded the ground as she worked out her frustration and anger. It felt good to move. She swung her arms vigorously and charged along the path, grateful to be alone to enjoy the fresh air and activity in solitude.
Her mind spun with so many thoughts. The wonderful food prepared by the staff at her home in St. Louis. The ease of her life. Sleeping until she felt like waking up, then Minnie arriving with a tray of coffee, toast and jam. Greeting her with a smile and wishing her a good morning before she opened the curtains. Lizzie would sit and look out the window
