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Selina sank into the chair. The things he wanted in a wife trailed through her mind.
She pondered each one.
Confusion coiled in her mind. Wasn’t she everything he’d said he wanted? Well, except for the genteel part. Nothing genteel about her. As for the lady part, she could work a little harder on that. She could wear dresses more often to please her husband, and she’d keep reminding herself to walk like Rainee had showed her, with something she’d called poise. Nothing more than walking slower with your head up straight and your shoulders back.
As for the rest of his list, it definitely described her. No. No it didn’t. He said he wanted someone to entertain potential business clients and who could handle themselves at a theater. Could Rainee teach her how to do that? After all, he wanted someone like her. Selina didn’t blame him—Rainee was wonderful.
He said he wanted someone who could educate his children, too. That wasn’t her yet. But it could be. She’d work harder to learn to read and write. With that thought in mind, she pulled out her lessons and got to work. As for the rest of Michael’s list, well, he wanted a fighter. Well, sugah, you got one.
Chapter Eleven
For almost three weeks Selina worked hard at keeping the house clean, making Michael’s favorite foods and sewing shirts and pants for him and new dresses for herself. She’d finished making her first quilt, too.
Every time she saw Michael’s smile and the approval on his face when she wore a dress and left her hair down, it pushed her to work harder at changing. She was even trying to learn to talk better, too, but that part wasn’t going too well. Rainee thought it unnecessary anyway, but she still helped and understood.
No kisses had been shared between Selina and Michael since the last one, but Selina felt it was only a matter of time before he came around again. After all, he’d been dogged tired every night when he came home from the fields.
Today was the last day of harvesting. Michael’s footsteps on their porch didn’t have their normal spring. He walked like a man in his nineties, shuffling as he came in the door, more tired than she’d ever seen him before. “Evenin’, Michael.”
He nodded.
Selina grabbed the lunch bucket and water jug from him and set them on the round table next to the door.
His smile barely curled his lips.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” she said mockingly as she pressed her hand against his forehead. “You’re burnin’ up. Why don’t you clean up and head to bed, and I’ll bring dinner to you there?”
“I’ll be fine.” His voice sounded weak.
She slammed her hands on her hips. “You ain’t fine, Michael. Your skin feels hotter than white flames.” She stepped behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a push toward his bedroom.
He didn’t fight her but shuffled his way slowly to his room. Inside, he flopped on the bed and sat there, staring at the wall.
“You need help gettin’ undressed?” When she realized what she had asked him, her face flooded with heat. She hadn’t thought before she spoke. For years she’d helped her pa undress down to his underclothes. But this was different.
Michael slowly raised his head toward her. “I could use some help.”
Selina swallowed. The man really was sick. He never let her help him. And this time he was going to let her undress him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that now that he’d said yes. But she reckoned it was fitting because, after all, he was her husband.
She stepped in front of him and slipped his suspenders over his shoulders, then undid his buttons and tugged the shirttail out of his trousers. She climbed on the bed behind him and pulled his shirt off.
His broad-shouldered body was a sight to behold. God had really outdone himself on Michael. She wanted to run her hands over his smooth back to feel the hard muscles underneath her fingers. But now was not that time.
She removed his shirtsleeves by running her hands down his arms. Arms that bulged, that were as solid as rocks, only warm. She needed to hurry and get him cooled down. Hopping off the bed, she came around to the front of him.
A blond lock of hair fell across his forehead, touching his eyebrows and almost his eye.
Without thinking, she reached out and brushed it away. Halfway through, her attention snagged onto Michael’s blue eyes.
He was watching her.
She should move away but she was as stiff and unmovable as a frozen pond.
Her mouth turned dry as hard bread.
Michael watched her every move.
She wondered if he was going to kiss her again.
“You’re so beautiful, Selina,” he whispered.
