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She did as she was told while Betsey opened those in the two rooms off to the left of the front door. Betsey was grumbling, but she could not make out what she was saying.
When Betsey came back into the main room, she was shaking her head, hands braced on her hips. “I can’t leave the house like this.” She sighed. “You can head on back home. I’m going to stay and clean this mess up.”
Morning Dove glanced around the house. As cluttered and dirty as it was, she did not want to leave. This was Ben’s house, and now that she was here, she was reluctant to go. “I can help.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
She shrugged. “There is nothing for me to do at home. I might as well make myself useful here.”
Betsey did not argue with her. They both went to work, picking up discarded clothing and tossing them into a basket Betsey found in what she said used to be her old bedroom.
The other room, Ben’s room, smelled like him. Morning Dove felt as if she was trespassing as she stood staring at the bed. The sheets were rumpled, most of them falling to the floor, and more clothes littered the rug.
Betsey picked up the discarded clothing she found there and motioned to a large cabinet near the back wall. “There should be clean sheets in the bottom drawer, Morning Dove. Can you check?”
They were right where Betsey said they were. Together, they stripped the bed and put clean linens on it. Betsey headed back to the kitchen, but Morning Dove lingered in the bedroom. A long dresser held an assortment of small bottles. She wiped the dust from everything, straightening the bottles, lining them up before picking one at random and pulling the stopper from it to inhale the scent. It smelled nice. The label said it was a shaving tonic. As scruffy as Ben’s jaw was most of the time, she knew why he rarely smelled of this stuff.
“Oh my Lord!”
Morning Dove capped the bottle and set it down before hurrying into the main room. A narrow door along the far wall was open. She moved to it and peeked inside, finding Betsey with her hands on her hips.
“How in the world is he even still alive?”
The small room was a pantry, the shelves all but bare. Morning Dove took stock of what she saw, which was not much.
Betsey turned, her face red. “It’s not hard to tell what he’s spending his money on.”
Yes. On horses he can not afford. Guilt slammed into her gut hard enough she felt sick. Betsey shut the pantry door and said, “He needs food. We have more than enough. Come on. Let’s run home and grab some things for him.”
She hesitated only a moment before saying, “I can stay.”
Betsey was halfway to the door before turning back to look at her.
“To finish cleaning,” Morning Dove said.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “You are coming right back, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“Then there is no reason for me not to stay.” She looked around the house, noting what still needed to be cleaned. “I can have all this done by the time you get back.”
Betsey nodded before heading to the front door. “I’d leave all these windows open. And the doors. It already smells better in here than it did.”
Morning Dove followed her outside. Betsey grabbed the crate she had filled with goods at the mercantile in town, pulling out half of what she bought before bringing it inside. “It’s still a while before he gets home so there should be enough time to fix him something to eat and have it ready for when he gets here.”
After leaving the fixings to start a small stew, Morning Dove watched Betsey’s wagon pull away from the house, a cloud of dust following in its wake. She stood at the door until Betsey’s wagon was a small speck on the horizon, then turned back to the house.
It felt odd being here alone. This was Ben’s home, as messy as it was, and even though she was only here to clean, being here made her feel closer to him, as silly as it sounded.
The house was in serious need of dusting. She was no stranger to cleaning. She had been doing it for Walter since the day he found the house in Silver Falls to settle into, but the difference between then and now was, she hated Walter and doing anything for him made the task feel like torture. Cleaning for Ben though…it made her mind race, her foolish heart pretending this was her home, one she shared with Ben, and doing these everyday chores was her pleasure.
She smiled and grabbed a water pail by the back door before heading for the well out back. The withered remains of a garden sat beside the small barn. Her imagination ran wild with visions of her there, planting vegetables with him, tending to the house while a few rambunctious boys ran around stirring up the dust.
How long had she wanted nothing more than this? A home of her own? A family?
How long had she imagined having those things with Ben?
