They drove northeast along a two-track road. “How far is your property from the main house?”
“El Regalo sits in the center of the 7 Heart, and our portions are like spokes on a wheel. Houston built the house on a rise above the Sabinal River about five miles as the crow flies from El Regalo.” He spoke as if reciting facts that had nothing to do with him or her.
Longhorn cattle grazed everywhere, the wind blew through the grasses and brush, and the sun shone happily. And yet, she was sad. Here she was riding to her new home with her husband, and the gulf between them yawned wider than ever.
Soon they approached a pretty, white house with windows that gleamed in the sunshine. Two stories, with a wide front porch that wrapped around one corner. It couldn’t have been more perfect if Elise had designed it herself. Everything looked new and ready for a fresh start.
Bowie leapt from the wagon and reached up for her, clasping her waist as she put her hands on his shoulders. He didn’t look at her as he swung her to the ground, and a chill set up residence in her middle. She rubbed her arms, even though the temperature was quite warm outside.
Stonewall barked and leapt from the wagon bed, followed more slowly by his mate. Bowie had introduced Elise briefly to Clara, but she remained aloof. Stonewall sidled up and nudged Elise’s hand for a pat. Elise obliged, grateful that someone seemed happy she was here.
Bowie held the front door open for Elise, and she walked into her new home, trying not to feel sad that there was no hope of Bowie behaving like a traditional groom and carrying her over the threshold. Stop being silly. You know it isn’t that kind of marriage. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to wed, and it’s ridiculous to pine for something different now.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling of being cherished that she had awakened with, nor the thrill that had shot through her and stolen her breath when they had kissed yesterday. In those moments, she had allowed herself to hope, to dream a bit, that their marriage might someday be more than just a quiet agreement to coexist.
“Parlor, kitchen, dining room down here, bedrooms upstairs.” Bowie pointed to the staircase. Everywhere around them the smell of fresh paint, fresh plaster, and newly-sawn wood swirled. The rooms were generous but not vast, and Elise could picture how inviting and cozy the house would look with rugs and pictures and books.
“It’s perfect. I love it.” She ran her finger along a smooth windowsill. “How is it that Houston knew just what kind of house to build?”
Bowie shrugged. “Before the War, I used to think I might want to be a carpenter or even an architect. Houston worked off some plans I drew up when I was a kid.”
There were so many layers to this man. Would she ever know them all?
Stonewall and Clara nosed around the baseboards, investigating the house. She wasn’t fond of dogs in the house, but she could put up with them as long as they stayed downstairs.
“The kitchen’s this way.” He led her to the back of the house.
She sucked in a breath, delighted at all the honey-colored wood. Cabinets and shelves covered one wall, a pump and sink sat under a wide window, and a massive black range stood in one corner. A door led out to a back porch where she could see trees along what must be the riverbank below the house. Everything was light and bright, and she could imagine a tin-topped worktable in the center where she could roll out pie dough or knead bread.
“One of Perla’s relatives, Josefina, will come out to clean house and do laundry and cook.” Bowie opened several cabinet doors and drawers. “I’ll say this for Houston, he hires the best. These drawers glide perfectly. I’ll have to tell Giles Brown when I see him. Nobody beats his carpentry.”
“I don’t think I’ll need a housekeeper or laundress, not with just the two of us living here,” Elise said.
“You might be surprised how difficult things can be here in Texas. I think you should rest and take things easy. You had a long, hard trip just getting here, and you deserve time to recuperate. The shopping and decorating and such will keep you busy. Anyway, Perla’s cousin needs the work.”
What would Elise do to fill her time if she didn’t have housework or laundry or cooking?
“I suppose I can plant a garden. I’m not sure what grows here or when to plant, but I can learn.”
“Josefina’s husband, Carlos, will take care of the gardening, the chickens, and the like. It’s all been planned out.”
Without consulting her.
And just like that Bowie subtly reminded her that she wasn’t really needed here beyond changing his marital status so he could inherit his land.