Chapter Five

E rna’s arms wrapped around the stray pieces of wood as she hefted them across the room. Her brow furrowed in concentration, she carefully positioned each plank and stick against the wall, creating a neat stack that transformed one corner of the house into a makeshift lumberyard. The wood carried the scent of earth and age, a smell that mingled with the aroma of fresh-baked bread and herbs from her earlier efforts in the kitchen. She stepped back to admire her handiwork, her mind already churning with possibilities – perhaps a picture frame or maybe even a small stool.

Erna turned her attention to the supper table. She laid out plates and utensils with practiced ease, arranging a simple meal of stew and homemade bread. A warm breeze wafted through, carrying the distant lowing of cattle, a reminder of the wide-open spaces just beyond the door.

The screen door creaked, announcing Joel’s return. His large frame filled the doorway, his shadow falling across the room like an evening shroud. “What’s all this?” he asked, nodding toward the organized wood.

Erna, wiping her hands on her apron, glanced at the corner. “Found it in the barn,” she said, her tone light as she moved to serve him a bowl of stew. “Got to thinking about crafts I could make. Maybe sell them at the market.”

“Crafts, huh?” Joel took a seat. He eyed the woodpile again, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re full of surprises, Erna.”

“Life’s too short for boredom,” she said with a grin, taking the seat opposite him. “And besides, I’ve always enjoyed making something beautiful out of nothing much.”

Joel chuckled, taking a hearty bite of his bread. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

The clink of porcelain and the swish of water filled the air as Erna finished with the last of the dishes. She dried her hands on a towel and turned to find Joel, who had been quietly observing her from the doorway.

“Supper was delicious,” he said, breaking the silence with his deep, comforting drawl.

“Thank you, Joel.” Erna smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

They moved to the sitting area, taking their usual seats on either side of the fireplace. Thank heavens he didn’t feel the need to keep the fire going on summer evenings. The heat from the stove was more than enough. In the quiet that followed, they found themselves speaking of dreams and plans, the kind of talk that drew people closer, weaving their lives together one thread at a time.

“I’ve always wanted a house full of laughter and little feet,” Erna confided, a wistful tone in her voice.

Joel nodded, his brown eyes reflecting a spark of something akin to joy. “Children, huh?” He glanced around the modest living space, his mind already turning over the logistics. “We’ll need more room for that. I can build an addition to the house, keep the ranch running too.”

Erna watched him, admiration in her gaze. “You’d do that? For our family?”

“Of course,” he replied.

They sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Joel’s eyes wandered through the home they shared, noting the changes that had come with Erna’s touch. The once dull wooden floors now gleamed, and every surface was free of dust.

“Place looks different already,” he mused. “Cleaner. Brighter.”

“Still needs a woman’s touch,” Erna teased gently, her eyes dancing with the vision of what could be.

“Guess we’ll see about that when we drive the cattle to town,” Joel said, thinking of the funds they would need for any further improvements. “Should have enough then to make this place shine like you want.”

Erna’s expression softened. “It’s not about the shine, Joel. It’s about making it ours. Building a life together, here.”

“And so we will,” he affirmed, reaching across to take her hand, his large fingers enveloping hers with a tender strength that spoke volumes.

“And in the meantime, I’ll do what I can with what I find sitting around,” she said, squeezing his hand, her heart full as she watched him. She was glad she’d found the courage to approach him at the dance before someone else had.

JOEL’S HANDS MOVED methodically, a small knife moving between his fingers as he whittled away at the piece of wood resting in his palm. Shavings curled and fell like autumn leaves to the floor, piling up by his boots. The evening sun cast long shadows through the open window, the light playing over the quiet determination etched into his features.

“See this here?” Joel held up the emerging figure for Erna to see. “Sometimes, I swear the wood whispers its secrets, telling me there’s a creature trapped inside, just waiting to be found.”

Erna watched him, her eyes reflecting the last golden rays of daylight. She laughed. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said, her gaze shifting to the pile of unused lumber she had organized earlier. “Give me a piece of wood, and before you know it, it’ll be a spoon or a trinket box.”

“Is that so?” Joel asked, his voice rich with amusement. He set aside his work, looking at her with an expression of fond curiosity. “Looks like we’ve got more in common than we thought.”

“Seems like it.” Erna smiled. “Who’d have guessed?”

“Who indeed,” Joel mused, picking up another block of wood. His thumb brushed over the rough surface, feeling for the shape hidden within. “Maybe you can show me one of your creations.” He handed her the block of wood, not sure what she’d do.

“Maybe I will,” she replied. She took the block and walked to the kitchen for a small knife. He only had two knives, so it was easy to choose. She’d never whittled, but she was going to give it a shot. Why not?

JOEL SET HIS LATEST whittled figure on the mantel. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm amber glow through the windows of the house. He turned to Erna, his brown eyes reflecting the last light of day.

“Erna,” he said, his deep voice softening, “I reckon it’s time for bed.”

His hand reached out, gently cupping her cheek, and drew her into a kiss that held the promise of their newfound connection.

Erna’s heart fluttered like a caught butterfly in her chest. His lips were tender against hers, a contrast to the calloused hands that now cradled her face. She could smell the earth on him, the sweet scent of hay from the fields, mixed with the faint trace of leather from his work gloves.

“Already?” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying the anticipation building within her.

“Yep,” Joel replied, his thumb brushing a stray lock of hair back from her forehead. “Long day tomorrow, and I want us rested.” But his eyes, dark and inviting, told a different story—one of a night that was just beginning.

With a delicate tug, he led her to the their bed, where the quilt she had spread out that morning lay smooth and inviting.

Joel scooped Erna into his arms. She laughed, the sound mingling with the creak of the wooden floorboards under his solid frame. With ease, he laid her down on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath their combined weight.

“Easy there,” Erna said.

“Only for you,” he answered, his smile hidden as he bent to kiss her again.

Their kisses grew more fervent, a dance of lips and tongues that spoke of finally given voice. His hands roamed over her, mapping the contours of her body with a reverence that made her skin tingle. The world beyond their little house fell away, leaving only the two of them, entwined in the soft glow of the oil lamp by the bedside.

Erna’s fingers traced the muscles of Joel’s back, feeling the power beneath his shirt. She marveled at the gentle way this man, who could break wild horses and carry heavy loads with ease, touched her with such care, as if she were something precious.

Clothes became confining, discarded piece by piece with an urgency that surprised her. Skin met skin, hot to the touch, and their breaths came faster. Joel’s kisses trailed down her neck, sending shivers through her body.

“Erna,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with emotion.

“Joel,” she whispered back, her hands tangling in his dark hair.

They moved together, a rhythm as old as the land itself, each seeking and finding the fulfillment of unvoiced dreams.

Erna lay in his arms afterward, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her hand tracing a pattern on his chest.

The night air was still, the only sound the soft rustle of the cottonwood tree outside their window. Joel’s breathing was steady, a comforting rhythm against Erna’s cheek. She marveled at the warmth that emanated from his body, the solidness of his frame beside hers in the narrow bed.

“Erna,” Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and intimate. “I never imagined... I never thought I could feel like this.”

His vulnerability touched her heart, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze in the dimly lit room. His brown eyes held a mix of wonder and tenderness that made her chest ache with emotion.

“I feel it too, Joel,” she whispered, her fingers trailing lightly over his chest. “I never knew... I never dared to hope for this.”

He drew her closer, wrapping his strong arms around her as if afraid she might slip away in the night. The weight of his feelings settled over her like a warm blanket, grounding her in the reality of their shared bond. In that moment, Erna felt the depth of their connection, a profound sense of belonging that surpassed anything she had ever dreamed.

As the night wore on, crickets sang in the distance, their chorus weaving a melody that serenaded the small house. The gentle rise and fall of Joel’s chest beneath her head lulled Erna into a state of contentment, each breath a reminder of the life they were building together.

In the quiet intimacy of their room, Erna found herself immersed in a sea of emotions, her heart overflowing with gratitude for the man who lay beside her.