A Preacher and His Wife

Chapter Seventeen

The following morning Grace went into town early with the letter she'd written for her father and Anders and I put the door on the house. He brought two hinges with him when he came by, and I tried to pay him for them but he refused, insisting that they were his housewarming present to us.

He also had the lovely idea of moving all our stuff into the cabin while Grace was gone so as to surprise her when she came back. She didn't yet know that we were done and would finally be sleeping indoors as of that night.

It was a sad sight inside, given that there was no furniture to speak of and all our belongings were stacked up against one wall. Still, sleeping in a makeshift bed on the floor of our house would be far better than sleeping in a makeshift bed outside.

Grace came back in high spirits and I told her the house was done. She didn't seem to believe me and went to run inside and see for herself, only Anders stopped her.

"He should carry ye, shouldn't he?" he said, motioning to me.

I was grateful for the suggestion as nothing about our marriage thus far could be called romantic, and I knew such things were important to women. Usually, a man carried his wife across the threshold when they wed. It was a little late, given that Grace and I had been married for over six months, but at the same time, we didn't have a doorway until that day.

Grace smiled but then she said, "You needn't fuss over me, I am not so sentimental as all that."

I didn't listen. I picked her up and carried her into our house and when I put her down she was blushing a little though I couldn't tell if it was because she found the gesture sweet or if she was embarrassed by it. She seemed flustered and took a moment to smooth her dress before offering to make tea for everyone.

The three of us sat on the floor of the new house and had tea. Anders finished his quickly and said that he best be getting back to his own farm, I think he said this with the intention of giving us some privacy.

I was full of excitement and energy, knowing that at least one thing had been accomplished and also, I was feeling a little full of myself as building that house was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

I thought of kissing Grace on the mouth, which I hadn't done since our wedding. Only I wasn't sure if she would mind it or how to begin seeing as I was sitting across from her and in the time it took me to think about all this, she pulled her father's second letter from her waistcoat and the mood was suddenly different.

I had assumed she already read it when we chose to settle in Alston, but it would seem she took the meaning of home quite literally and waited until we had a house to speak of. She laughed a little, and then she cried, and then she laughed again.

There were no children around to ask her to read it and even though I was very curious, I didn't inquire. She told me a little of what it said. Her father apologized for lying, he had heard the road was much worse than the ship but told her the worst was done when she landed in an attempt to keep our spirits up. He said that the hardest part was behind us now and sent me his regards. I was certain there was a lot more than what she shared with me.

She read the letter once more and then composed herself and said, "I suppose we should be seeing to some furniture."

Neither of us knew how to make furniture, though it was the sort of thing I assumed could be figured out as we both knew what chairs and tables and beds looked like. We had lots of wood that was too crooked to be used for the church and Grace knew enough to cut the taller grasses and leave them on the roof to dry to stuff the bedding with.

We went to town together to purchase nails and a hammer. We didn't think to bring anything to carry the nails home with, but Mr. Thomas saw us and gave us an empty can we could use. Grace invited him back to our house to have tea and hearing her say "our house," made me feel more like a man than I ever had before.