Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Love is a burnin' thing
and it makes a fiery ring.
Bound by wild desire,
I fell into a ring of fire.

-Johnny Cash

Was I the only one who felt a fever last chapter?

Find me on Twitter @lovethedinklage

*****

FRANKIE:

"I'm so sorry, Frankie. Really I am," he tips my face up so he can look at me. "I know you don't even know me yet, but I swear to you — I would never, never do anything to hurt you."

I sniffle some more, but something deep down inside of me believes him.

"Frankie?" Harry prods, concerned. "You believe me, right?"

"Uh-huh," I nod.

"Good. Now we need to get that loft fixed up today for you. Go get dressed. We gotta make hay while the sun shines!" Harry commands with a hopeful smile, which I return.

"Now," he grins, "shoo!"

And I do.

*****

FRANKIE:

To say Sunday morning was off to a rocky start woulda been putting it mildly.

I am 99% sure that Harry overheard the lonesome evening activity I participated in last night. 99.5% when I figure in how small the cabin is, and that there's no bedroom door. I can't remember ever being so embarrassed in my entire life.

Even the time I caught that red-headed rascally Ed trying to sneak a peek in the window back home when I was getting ready for my Sunday bath.

Men. Ya can't live with 'em, and ya just can't shoot 'em. That's what Mrs. Tomlinson always said, and I think I'm finally beginning to see what she meant.

Harry did apologize, and I believe him. He looked right at me with those big eyes, and his lips moved so slowly when he spoke, like molasses in the wintertime. There was no way I could turn him down. I bet he has girls all over Cider Creek swooning in his presence. I will be keeping a hawk's eye on him when we go to the mercantile tomorrow. A young woman's gotta look out for herself.

How Harry is perceived around here is important, it could cast a bad light on me. If he's flirty with the womenfolk, and I'm living out here alone with him, his behavior could ruin my reputation.

I also have decisions to make. Mrs. Tomlinson sent a bit of money with me, but it won't last forever. I don't feel right having Harry pay my way, so I will make darn sure I put in my share of labor around here, if not some extra. Maybe I could also bake or do mending for people? I have Mrs. Tomlinson's secret jam and jelly recipes. I bet I could sell a few of those. It would help make due until I found a suitable husband.

That was another worry. A husband. While Mrs. Tomlinson's health was on the decline, she practically talked my ear off, filling my head with all sorts of facts and advice and such. The main one she kept saying over and over was how important it was to choose a good man for a husband. He needed to be an honest person who wasn't afraid of hard work. Someone who didn't talk badly about other people. A man who was kind to animals as well as children, who was strong and would defend your honor, yet had a gentle way about him. Someone responsible, but also able to laugh at life and not get dragged down by piddly things that don't matter a lick in the long run.

I had to wonder if she sent me here to Harry with some sorta intent in the back of her mind, knowing he was single and all? Now that'd be plain ridiculous.