Claimed on the Frontier by Jane Henry Page A

containers of beans, flour, and sugar, and a few other items that would make our first days here easier. I gave a cursory glance before moving along again.
    I went back to where the trunk lay by the entryway and found tucked inside my basket with my needlework. It felt odd, lifting it out in a strange place like this, as if merging my old life with my new. And I became a bit unsettled, walking around the cabin. When would Aaron come? And when he did, what would we do ?I swallowed. It was all so new.
    I needed to do something with myself while I waited for him. I wanted to take a walk, but wasn’t sure of my new surroundings, and knew it wasn’t wise to be traipsing around outside as dusk was beginning to settle. I looked at the trunk. Well, it wouldn’t do to have it sitting right there in the middle of the front room, so I bent to lift it and carry it to our bedroom. I heaved with the weight of it, and still, could not budge it. Angrily, I kicked the thing and frowned. Well, then, I would tug it. I grasped the iron handle on the side and began to tug, and it budged a bit, but scraped the floor along the way. I gasped. I’d not been in my new home longer than an hour, and already I’d damaged it! I was frowning at the damage when the door opened, and Aaron entered, removing his hat and nestling it on a hook by the door.
    “What are you doing?” he said, as I must’ve made quite a picture, squatting by the trunk and frowning at the floor.
    “I was trying to move this damn thing and it was too heavy, so I tried to drag it,” I sighed. “And I scraped the floor.” I gave it another kick as I suddenly realized I’d cursed.
    “Now, Pearl,” Aaron said gently but firmly. He took me by the hand and led me to our bedroom. Panic set in.
    “Oh. Maybe we should… have something to eat? Or… get some rest, seeing as we’ve had a long day? Or…I don’t know… maybe… I…” I was at a complete loss. Suddenly, the fear of the unknown consumed me entirely. I did not know what to say or do.
    “Pearl.”
    I stopped speaking. I had promised I would follow his lead. And now was time to do so.
    He pulled me over until we stood in front of the bed… Oh, my. Was he already prepared to bed me? So soon? He released my hand, walked to the edge of the bed, and sat down. He crooked a finger at me, indicating I was to come closer. I stood between his legs as he took both of my hands in his. His eyes warmed at me.
    “We’ve a few things to discuss,” he said. I nodded.
    “Yes, sir,” I whispered.
    “The past few days have been awfully tryin’ for you.” His voice dropped as one thumb traced along the edge of my cheekbone. “Haven’t they?”
    “Yes, sir,” I whispered again.
    “And you’ve forgotten your place.” His voice deepened. “Today alone, you contradicted me in front of my mother. You disobeyed me. And just now, you tried to lift something heavy, and when you couldn’t, you kicked it and cursed.” He raised a brow. “Is that right?”
    I nodded, my ability to speak gone.
    A finger under my chin, his voice was both stern and gentle when he spoke. “Enough now, little one.”
    Little one. Something in me warmed to that, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I felt our age difference then. He seemed so much older and wiser, more patient and knowledgeable than I. It seemed that trusting him was the best decision to make. I’d trusted him at the most precarious of moments in the past weeks, and he’d proven himself time and time again. I started as he gently spun me around, and I felt him begin to unfasten the buttons that secured my dress. I closed my eyes. He was my husband, now. It was proper.
    The minutes ticked by as he slowly unbuttoned my dress and pulled it over my head, laying it across the foot of the bed. He continued removing my layers of clothing until I stood in front of him wearing naught but my thin chemise, which he lifted and pulled straight over my head. Next came the