Page 10 of Mail Order Mukluks (Brides of Alaska #1 | Brides of Beckham #68)

B elle finished up the strawberry shortcake shortly before ten on Monday morning. When she arrived at the store, she was surprised how many men were there, and she said a silent prayer she’d made enough.

The men all gathered around her.

“Did you bring cookies?” one man asked.

“What about bread?”

“I brought bread and strawberry shortcake. I’ll make snickerdoodles tomorrow along with the usual bread.”

“You never bake enough,” one man complained.

Belle set the food she’d prepared on the counter for Mrs. Johnson to divvy up before turning back to the men and putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m not a baker. I just happen to enjoy baking.

I’m not here to feed any of you. I’m here to take care of my husband and his home.

If there’s any more complaining, I won’t sell baked goods here any longer. ”

The man who had complained looked contrite. “Sorry, ma’am.”

To Belle’s surprise, Everett walked into the store just then. He frowned. “Why are none of you working?” he asked, looking around at the men.

“Your wife said she’d be here with fresh-baked treats today. We came to buy them,” answered a man who was leaning against the wall.

Everett shook his head. “Get back to work!” he yelled.

After the men had scattered, he turned his attention back to Belle. “No more of this. You can bake and bring stuff to the store, but I don’t want you giving the men a particular time again. There is no one working on the order we have due Friday!”

“But...”

“I’m not going to listen to any more arguments. This is ridiculous!” He turned and left the store, and Belle stared after him, realizing they’d just had their first disagreement, and she hadn’t been able to say a word.

Katie was busy portioning off the pieces of cake. The men had put their names on their plates, so it was easy to tell whose was whose. “Don’t worry about him,” Katie said. “He gets grumpy when he’s on a deadline.”

“Always?” Belle asked, surprised. She’d seen no sign of a temper in her husband at all.

“Only time he hasn’t is since you’ve been here. I’m surprised he’s held out this long.”

“I’ll have to make sure and butter him up with baked goods when he has a deadline coming on.”

“That would be really smart of you,” Katie said.

“I’m going home to process the ducks we shot yesterday then. Sorry to bring drama to your store.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. I’ve been expecting something like this. The men don’t get sweets often enough.”

Belle nodded, thinking about her friend’s words. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to order a sewing machine. Could you get one in?”

“I sure could! I want one myself, but I haven’t been able to talk Bernard into one. He’s a crotchety old thing when it comes to money.”

Belle giggled. “Tell him that you’re making extra money with all the baking I’m doing, and everything will balance out.”

“That’s a great idea! I’ll do that!”

“And if he still says no, come to my place and use mine.”

“I wouldn’t want to do that. No, I’ll talk Bernard into one of my own.”

As Belle walked home, her mind was still on what Everett had said to her. She was annoyed that he hadn’t waited until they were in private to scold her, and she planned to tell him just that when he arrived home that evening.

Her entire afternoon was consumed with processing the birds, and when she’d finally put the last jar into the cellar, it was time to cook supper.

She wondered if fried mallard would taste like fried chicken.

They seemed to have more dark meat than white meat, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t taste good.

She quickly dredged one of the ducks in flour and heated up an iron skillet. She’d already put Eskimo potatoes on to boil. She’d make a nice gravy and a can of carrots to go with them. It wasn’t a perfect meal, but it would fill them.

And of course she’d kept a loaf of bread for their supper. It was too bad he’d been grouchy with her earlier.

When Everett got home, she could see the strain on his face. He washed his hands in silence and took his seat at the table. “Supper isn’t ready?” he asked, sounding angry.

“Yes, it’s ready. I just need a minute to serve it.” She wanted to tell him if he was going to be angry if supper wasn’t on the table when he got home that he should plan to cook for himself, but she could see that he was stressed about the deadline.

As soon as he saw the fried mallard, he grumbled. “You killed a chicken when I told you not to, didn’t you? Do you even know how to listen?”

Belle resisted the urge to fling his plate full of food at his face, but she’d worked too hard on it to waste it. “I did not.” She placed the food in front of him and took her seat.

“Then what did you do?”

“It’s one of the ducks we shot yesterday.”

He seemed to deflate a little. “It smells good.” After his first bite, he smiled. “I never would have thought of frying a duck up this way.”

“I’m making do with the ingredients I have on hand or can find.”

“Appreciate it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you do! You fussed at me in front of Katie today, and that wasn’t fair to me.

If you’d told me you didn’t want me giving the men a specific time I’d be in the store, then I wouldn’t have.

You can’t be angry with me if I don’t follow some unknown to me rule you have in your head! ”

“You should have the sense to know that my men need to work during work hours!”

“I didn’t tell them to be at the store at that time. I simply told them I would drop everything off then so they could come as soon as they had some free time.” She couldn’t believe he was blaming this on her. It didn’t make any sense at all.

“I’m finished discussing this,” he said, calmly eating his meal and refusing to look at her.

Belle wanted to tell him that he was finished discussing it because he knew he was wrong, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want to fight with him. She wanted to go back to the way they’d been just days before.

She washed dishes in silence, and he read his Bible while she knitted. Even she could hear that her knitting needles sounded angry.

When she was calm enough, she set her knitting needles and the work she’d done on a sock onto the table and changed into her nightgown. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of apologizing because she’d done nothing wrong. No matter what his warped mind told him.

She fell asleep curled onto her side, facing away from him, and she didn’t even notice when he got into bed with her that night.

*****

B ELLE WAS STILL ANGRY as she made breakfast the following morning. She put his plate in front of him, and she sat down herself, but she didn’t speak.

“Breakfast is good,” he told her.

She nodded but didn’t speak.

When it was time for him to leave for work, he bent down to kiss her goodbye, but she turned her head so his kiss landed on her cheek. He couldn’t treat her like a stupid child one moment and like his wife the next. She wasn’t going to put up with that sort of behavior.

She baked bread and made snickerdoodles, dropping them off at the store at ten along with the eggs from that morning. When Katie asked her what was wrong, she shook her head, saying everything was fine.

But it wasn’t fine. Her husband was a ridiculous man who scolded her when she’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

Instead of making strawberry jam as she’d planned that day, she left the cabin with his crossbow and a quiver of arrows.

Walking through the woods by herself wasn’t exactly smart, and she knew it, but at that moment, she didn’t care.

She had to walk off her anger, or she really would be dumping his supper over his head that night.

She stepped into a small clearing and spotted a rabbit.

It took her seconds to shoot it. By the time she started home, she had six rabbits strung along her back.

Rabbit wasn’t her favorite meal, but it was food, and it wasn’t bacon.

Funny how she’d always loved bacon, and now it seemed she’d had too much of it.

When she got home, Everett was waiting for her. “Where were you?” he demanded.

“Hunting,” she replied, seeing no need to waste words on him.

“I don’t want you hunting alone.”

“You didn’t mind a few days ago. Maybe you should write down a list of rules that you need me to follow, so I’ll know what’s going to set off that ridiculous temper of yours!

” Belle wasn’t in the mood to put up with any of his nonsense.

As far as she was concerned, she’d go out and stay in a tent forever if he kept treating her this way.

There was winter to worry about, though, so it was probably a bad idea.

“You need to stay home. Isn’t that what being a wife is all about?” he asked.

“This wife isn’t! I thought you wanted me to forage and hunt. Am I wrong?”

“Yes! There’s no need for you to do all that. We can eat bacon, rice, and beans all winter. That’s what I’ve always done.”

“That doesn’t even sound a little bit appetizing.” She turned and left the cabin, annoyed when he followed her.

“You can’t just walk out in the middle of a discussion!” he yelled.

“I’m skinning these rabbits. Am I allowed to use a knife?”

“Don’t be petty!”

“If I’m being petty, it’s because I learned how from you!

” Belle couldn’t believe this was the same man who she had traveled into Yeti with.

This man...he was a tyrant. The man she’d traveled with had been good and kind.

No, this must be his identical twin or something.

“I’m busy, Everett. Go find someone else to yell at. ”

He stared at her for a moment, seething with anger. “Fine,” he finally said, and walked away. She didn’t watch him to see where, but she was glad he was gone. She needed a minute to be alone.

Belle skinned the rabbits, carefully saving the pelts, thinking she could use them for a coat for a child. If she ever let Everett touch her again to make a child that was.

She carried the rabbits inside and put them in a pot to boil. She’d process them all tomorrow, and then she’d have rabbit to fix through the winter. Perhaps there was a better way to preserve them, but she didn’t know it. She’d just use them for rabbit stew, which was a favorite of hers anyway.

She made a simple supper of bacon sandwiches, not caring about whether or not Everett was happy with what she cooked. When he hadn’t returned when it was time to eat, she sat down and ate without him.

She cleaned the dishes and put them away, and still Everett hadn’t returned. Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, she was glad he wasn’t doing it where she could see him.

She went to bed at bedtime, concerned about him, but not letting herself worry too much. He’d return when he was ready.