The minutes ticked by as Celia worked, and after setting the biscuits to bake, she sat at the table with a cup of coffee and pondered whether Jack would awaken in time to begin the day’s chores. If he didn’t, should she wake him? She ought to, but the thought of it made her nervous.
If only everything didn’t make her so nervous.
She’d prayed since childhood to be more like Faith—unafraid to speak up, to ask for what she needed, to make friends easily. But it had never come, and now here she was, too shy to even wake the man who was now her husband.
“Celia?” A groggy voice said her name from somewhere near the kitchen door.
She turned in her seat and rose when she saw Jack, his suspenders hanging at the sides of his trousers and a hand rubbing the sleep from his face. “Good morning!” she said, thrilled he’d awoken himself and taken that worry from her mind, at least.
“Why are you up so early? I heard commotion back here and came to find out what it was. I thought an animal had gotten in.”
“Oh, no,” she said sheepishly as she stood. “I’m used to waking early. There’s always so much to do.”
“It’s just now going on five o’clock, and you already have a fire going and—are those biscuits?” His eyes seemed to brighten in the lamplight.
Celia smiled to herself. “They are. I suppose I had too much on my mind to sleep any longer.”
Jack’s gaze drifted back to her, the sleepiness gone. “I understand. Worries are always magnified at night. By day, they’re never as bad.”
She said nothing as she pondered the truth of his words. “I’d never thought of it like that, but you’re right.”
He took a step forward, resting a hand on the chair in which she’d been sitting. “May I ask what was weighing on your mind?”
Celia caught her lip between her teeth. It wouldn’t do to tell him how occupied her mind had been with him. So she opted for another set of worries, one that hadn’t kept her up last night, but was certainly something to fret over. “We need more food put away for winter. I told you about the hog already, so we have some meat at least. But the harvest this summer was poor, and while we salvaged some corn and potatoes and a few carrots, it isn’t nearly enough. And there was no extra to sell in town. Ned harvested the hay before the blizzard, and so we sold some of that. But even that wasn’t very much, and there was nothing we could purchase with the money we made for it because no one else had meat or other food to spare either. That’s why the men went to hunt.” She paused. “The town smoked all the meat from the livestock that didn’t survive the storms, but that’s just about gone. I didn’t accept any, given that I already had something, and so many others had nothing at all. We need more if we’re going to survive to spring. And Faith too. I won’t see my sister starve.”
Jack ran a hand over his jaw, as if he were trying to comprehend everything Celia had said. “I can see why that kept you up.”
She turned and busied herself with the biscuits, turning the pan just so on the stove, if only for something to do. She didn’t know what she thought he’d say. She couldn’t expect him to have the answer to all her fears, right here and now, and particularly when he had no experience with a farm. “I suppose when you got hungry in New York, you simply bought food from a shop or a restaurant.”
“I did my fair share of cooking,” he said.
Celia glanced at him. He stood with his arms crossed, looking defensive, and she wanted to laugh. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Hmm. I’ll have you know I can whip up some of the best eggs you’ll ever taste.”
“Is that so? I’d put you to the test if we had any eggs.”
“Surely someone has eggs in town. And then you’ll find out.” He grinned at her. “Now when do I get to taste one of those biscuits?”
Celia glanced at them. They’d turned a lovely golden brown, and she scooped up a couple of the piping hot biscuits and set them on a plate. She found herself smiling as she retrieved Faith’s butter and the slices of ham she’d gotten from the cellar. She didn’t know where her confidence had come from in issuing that challenge to him, but she liked the way it made her feel.
And, judging from the smile Jack gave her, he certainly didn’t mind either.
Chapter Nine
Jack leaned the axe against the stack of wood he’d managed to cut. It wasn’t much, especially considering how long he’d been out here. He eyed the stack, pride warring with weariness. Every log he cut would keep them warm a few minutes longer come winter. Their survival depended upon him.
It was only a little terrifying.
He pulled off his gloves and contemplated going inside to see if Celia had prepared lunch yet. He’d left his pocket watch inside, but the sun was directly overhead, warming the day to a somewhat tolerable level. Surely it had to be about noon. But just as he’d made up his mind to go in, the house’s back door opened, and Celia made her way toward him.
Jack took a moment to admire her.
