The mercantile became a lovely sight for the holiday season. Paper chains of red and green hung from the walls along with tin foil stars and baubles. The store was overloaded with excess products, from special fabrics and yarn to wood stoves, vases, and wagon wheels.
Every day, families would come in, discretely searching for objects they could gift the other when the time came. While they were still short on money, Charlotte allowed herself to get a modest brass belt buckle for her uncle which she believed he would appreciate.
The blizzard that struck earlier in the week left several feet of snow on the ground, though the town was busy enough to keep the streets clear for everyone. Fortunately, after that storm, the sun shined for several days, illuminating the snow so brightly, it looked as if it had its own source of light.
Besides Christmas, many were looking forward to a church social which would soon be held, with dancing and music, just an event to get people out of their homes. Even Charlotte looked forward to it, as it would be something to break up the monotony of these winter days.
The only thing that left Charlotte nervous was continuing to see Nels Oleson every day. She knew things were different between them ever since what happened in that abandoned shack, but she wasn't sure how different. When she worked, she avoided meeting his gaze and often worked in another room, so embarrassed that she had let him see her in such a way... touch her in such a way.
There was no denying the way they felt about each other now, which seemed to make the situation only more complicated. What are we supposed to do now? She wondered. Are we to forget and put it behind us?
Nels seemed to be somewhat hesitant around Charlotte as well for a few days, distracting himself with the mercantile and the needs of his children. He felt an intense guilt toward his wife, but also a certain bitterness toward her, for he had already tried everything to make things right with her, and she wouldn't have any of it.
Charlotte was quick to realize that Nels's hesitancy toward her was short-lived, and he also did not intend to forget what had happened in that countryside shack. He found it adorable how shy Charlotte had become around him. She tried to act so formal when she worked at the mercantile with him, adjusting the modest collar of her dress, writing neatly in the ledger, organizing vases on the shelves, quiet as a mouse.
But Nels now knew what she looked like desperately gripping his sleeves, barely able to breathe except to whisper his name, so red in the face she might as well have been sunburned.
That image stayed with him no matter what he did. Cleaning out a vase with a rag, carrying in shipments, wiping down the counters, taking off his slippers before going to bed...
Nels, too, knew that event changed their relationship permanently. They could no longer pretend to just be good friends. Indeed, they had a deep friendship between them, but now, there was much more than that, and they both knew it. And after a few days, Nels didn't see the point in acting so formal with her, particularly when they had some time alone.
At one point, toward the end of the day when the mercantile was slower, Charlotte went to the storeroom to count how many lanterns they had, as they were running low. Nels had been busy going over the ledger then, only a couple of customers wandering around the store, looking around and not seeming like they were ready to buy anything.
Nels felt a certain spark in him then, a certain ache in his lips when he realized he had not kissed Charlotte for almost a whole week since the time of the blizzard. He rubbed his fingers against his lips and found that it was hard to think about anything else. "Let me know if you need anything," he said to the two old customers absentmindedly staring at a bookshelf, and he went into the storeroom.
He found Charlotte at the very back of the room with a pencil in her hands, counting different items on the shelves from lanterns to vases to boxes of nails. When she heard his footsteps entering the room she turned and met his eye only briefly before turning away awkwardly. "M-Mr. Oleson, we'll have to order more of the—"
Before she could finish, he took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. The move surprised Charlotte so much that her eyes became as wide as the moon before her eyelids drooped in contentment. Kissing Charlotte immediately satisfied the ache that Nels had been feeling, as if she was morphine.
When he pulled away after several long moments, she looked up at him, startled, if not a little nervous. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "There are still customers here; they could come in looking for you any moment—"
He kissed her again, deeper this time, wrapping his arms around her waist. He didn't know where this boldness in him came from, but it was there.
Charlotte's hands held him in return, and how delightful it felt, like she was made of pure glee... but she didn't want to lose herself in all this, at least not yet. She still had grave matters to consider. She pulled away, breathing heavily. Nels was about to kiss her again, but she stopped him, putting her hands against his chest, and she grew serious. "Nels. Do you still love your wife?"
The question left him feeling cold, and, regretfully, he took a step back. When he was around Charlotte, he could forget about Harriet. He could just enjoy his time with the young woman in a way that was almost impossible with Harriet. And yet, as angry as he was with his wife and her absence, he still missed her. "I... I don't know," he answered, and it was the truth.
Charlotte's downcast look was obvious. "Do you love me?"
That question hit him even harder, and yet, it was easier to answer. "Yes," he said, a lump in his throat. Saying it made his body feel weak, perhaps because he had imagined saying it for so long, but never had the courage. "I do love you, Charlotte Richmond."
A beautiful shine appeared in her eyes, but a certain sadness persisted. "Enough to marry me?"
Somehow, that thought had never occurred to him. The thought of divorcing Harriet and marrying someone else. He had been close to leaving his wife in the past when their arguments got too heated, but he always came back. He had always assumed that he was stuck with her since he had already been with her for so long, and he didn't like the idea of being a lonely bachelor again.
But things were different now. The idea of marrying Charlotte, of having her live with him, of being with her as much as he wanted without being accosted and accused almost had him giddy. But on the other hand, the idea of divorcing Harriet was miserable to him. As much as that woman tormented him, he also cared deeply for her. Perhaps he shouldn't, but he did.
And then, he thought about the children. Would Harriet steal them from him for good? Willie's brief chat with Nels about divorce had him feeling unstable. How much was Harriet thinking about the same subject? Maybe I'll never know, he thought bitterly, as she refuses to talk to me.
"I do want to marry you," he said, realizing how true it was as soon as he said it aloud. "But... with Harriet...."
"I know it's complicated," Charlotte replied. "I understand. But I... I need to know that what we're doing is serious. Not just some game."
He was surprised that she would think such a thing. He cared about her so deeply, he couldn't imagine doing anything to hurt her. "It's serious," he affirmed.
She smiled up at him. "Then I... I suppose I can say this without any fear: I love you, Nels. I've loved you for a long time." Saying those words made her feel like her chest would burst, like she was full of clouds, like her mouth was stuffed with sugar.
Nels had never known that a few words could make him feel so happy. He picked her up around her waist, her feet leaving the ground, and he kissed her ardently. He felt her lips curl into a smile against his, which only made him feel lighter and brighter. For a long time, he believed his life was more or less over, that he had made all his decisions and all he had to do was live his life the same way every day until he died.
Never did he ever believe that a beautiful girl would fall into his arms like this and actually have feelings for him, the same feelings that he had for her. He felt like he could kiss her forever; nothing else seemed to matter.
But then he heard his daughter's voice calling, "Father!"
Charlotte and Nels released each other at once, Charlotte returning to counting the merchandise on the shelves despite how flustered she was, and Nels adjusting his vest and smoothing his hair before leaving the storeroom. "What is it, Nellie?"
The girl came prancing into the mercantile, wearing a fur-trimmed pink coat. "Mother's on the phone asking for you."
The words shocked him as it was the last thing he expected from Harriet. He didn't know what she would call him about; he doubted she would admit her stubbornness after all this time. "All right," he said. After telling Charlotte to mind the store in his absence, he hurried across the street to the restaurant.
Charlotte exited the storeroom eventually and reviewed the ledger to check that everything was up to date. She was in such a state of happiness that it was almost impossible for her to act normal. It was as if she was in a beautiful dream. Never in her life did she ever believe a man would love her as Nels Oleson seemed to love her. It was obvious now that he wouldn't grow tired of her despite all the faults that tormented her, all the faults she couldn't control.
She used her self-restraint to calm herself, writing things down in the ledger as if it were just a normal day.
She realized that the few customers in the store had left and only Nellie remained, looking at her maliciously as she often did. "Good day, Nellie," Charlotte said steadily. "Can I help you with something?"
"The steps outside need sweeping," said the girl. "They're starting to get icy. Wouldn't be good for business if some customers slipped coming in or out."
Charlotte glanced at Nellie hesitantly. Ice and snow did pile up quickly on the stairs this time of year. "I suppose you're right."
She grabbed the broom from the corner and went outside, surprised when the girl opened the door for her. Charlotte went out on the porch, looking down at the stairs which were only lightly dusted with snow before they plunged into muddy, slushy earth.
She figured she ought to dust off the steps anyway, but before she could, she felt a pair of hands push into her back, and she went tumbling down the stairs into the mud. Everything from her face to her skirt was covered in muck, and when Charlotte looked over her shoulder back up the stairs, she saw Nellie sneering down at her. "I'm sorry, Miss Richmond," she giggled. "I must have lost my balance."
Meanwhile, at the back of the restaurant where one of Walnut Grove's very few phones resided, Nels's ears were being accosted by his wife's screams.
He could barely make out her words for the first minute through the phone's crackling line, and he had to hold the receiver far from his face to keep from straining his ears.
"Harriet," he began, trying to calm her down. "Harriet, what's wrong? What are you saying?"
"You hired that Richmond girl at the mercantile?" she wailed. "Without even a word to me? Even after I expressed my disdain for her? How dare you! I put my heart and soul into that store, and you make these miserable changes without consulting me? You're going to ruin everything we've worked so hard and so long for—"
Nels knew he had never told Harriet about hiring Charlotte, and he also knew that the only person that would dare tell Harriet was Nellie. He didn't know why she would do such a thing except perhaps to make things even more difficult for Charlotte. The thought made him seethe, as did Harriet's anger at him.
"What else would you have me do?" he insisted. "You knew it would be next to impossible for me to run the mercantile by myself. Who else in town could I have hired that could have done that job without making a mess of things?"
"I assure you that the Richmond girl has already made a mess of things," Harriet snapped. "She hasn't got a single quality that would be useful in running the store, my store!"
"As I recall, Harriet, it's supposed to be our store, and you're half a country away from it, so it seems to me that I'm free to make the decisions in the store's best interest."
"Don't you talk to me like that!" Harriet's voice crackled over the phone line. "You've never made any decisions that were ever worthwhile, and you're not about to start now. I demand that you fire that woman, get rid of her today!"
"I will not!" he shouted into the phone. He so rarely raised his tone to his wife, but it seemed easier since she wasn't here in person. "I will not inconvenience myself and the mercantile right in the middle of the busiest time of the year. I need that woman's help."
"I want her gone!" Harriet screamed, the pure wrath evident in her voice. "I will not have that fool of a woman working at my mercantile."
"Then why don't you come back and make that decision?" Nels boomed. "I'm tired of you playing queen of the castle a thousand miles away. If you cared at all about the mercantile, about me, you'd be here by now. But instead, you keep avoiding me, my calls, my letters, everything I've done to try and get back to you, Harriet, but you won't let me. I've tried to fix things like I've always done, but this time, you're making it impossible, and you're still blaming me for everything."
"Don't use that tone with me—"
"I'll use whatever tone I damn well please," Nels shouted, rising from his chair. "If you want to do something about it, then you can come back here, but I know you won't. I don't know why you won't. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you, Harriet? Even if you did, I doubt you'd care. This time we've had apart has made one thing very clear to me: you care more about being right, about having the last word, than anything else. I think you've dragged all this out so long just to make some kind of a point."
"Nels, I—"
"Tell me I'm wrong, Harriet. I know I upset you in the beginning, and I apologized for it, but it wasn't enough for you. So, you went off with your mother in the hopes that I'd come begging after you just so you could come home triumphant and in charge as you always do. The only difference is that, this time, somehow, I've had the gall not to come sniveling back to you, and now you're stuck back east because coming back now means that you got the short end of the stick. Tell me I'm wrong, Harriet. Tell me."
The phone line was quiet for several long moments. He kept on waiting for her to say something, but the silence persisted, as painful as a knife in the heart.
Nels swallowed hard, recomposing himself. "Harriet, I've said for a long time that we should spend some time apart, and that's just what happened. Willie told me he heard you talking about divorce. Is that true?"
He heard her gasp across the line. "I... it was just conversation. He didn't hear anything important."
"I think it was important. Harriet, I need to know if you care about me enough to come back here."
Silence permeated the line again. "You're... you're trying to deflect from the point of this conversation."
"This is the point of the conversation," he snapped. "I've loved you for a long time, and I've always done what you wanted. And even with all that, you were never happy. You always treated me as miserably as everyone else."
"Nels, that's not true—"
"Isn't it? I've never known any wife who's insulted her husband as much as you insulted me, sometimes even in front of our own neighbors. I always took it; I don't even know why. I suppose not to upset you, but you were always upset anyway. And God forbid I stand up to you, or you'd react... well, like you've been reacting so far."
"You gave me no choice," she shouted. "I will not have my own husband shouting me down like I'm nothing but some common servant."
"But it's all right for you to do the same to me? Do you remember the insults you used to throw at me? 'Mouse, lazy, a poor excuse of a man.'"
"Nels, all this could be over if you'd just apologize. I said it all in my last letter, didn't I?"
"I'm done apologizing," Nels insisted. "I've groveled to you enough. You have made my life so difficult these last years. I could apologize a thousand times and it wouldn't do any good, except to humiliate myself maybe. This time, I'm putting the initiative on you. If you care about me at all, about our marriage, our family, you come to me. Come back to Walnut Grove, Harriet. I'm not asking you to do anything but that. And if you can do that, then we can put all this behind us. But if you can't, then maybe... maybe it's best that we stay in our separate places."
A long silence, save for the crackling of electricity, cut through the telephone line. Half of him desperately hoped that she would just come back. He did still love her. He missed her, despite all the rage he felt toward her now.
But the other half of him wished that he could just live his life in peace without her.
Eventually, Harriet's voice came back to life. "I can't talk anymore right now, Nels. I'm busy."
Before Nels could say anything, she hung up. The silent void that crawled over him was as cold as hell frozen over. It made him so angry, he wanted to throw the phone against the wall, but he just gently put it down on the table, noticing how his hands shook.
She's killing me, he thought, in a state of torment. His head felt like it was filled with a thousand buzzing bees. Harriet's voice still rang in his ears like nails against a chalkboard. He wished things could be simple again. Simple. The way things were when they were very first married. But that was a long time ago, and perhaps not as rudimentary as he remembered.
He wished he had the strength to just end it all. To tell Harriet that he was done with her games, done with her torment, and to tell her that he was in love with Charlotte Richmond.
But he just couldn't do it. Perhaps he didn't want it to be over between him and Harriet. A part of him wished, somehow, they could mend things and go back to how everything was before, even though he knew he would not be happy.
He missed the routine.
And yet, Charlotte.
He didn't think he could do without Charlotte just as he couldn't do without Harriet, and that thought terrified him.
But for now, he was angry. His hands balled into fists, his jaw clenched, and he knew he had to punish his daughter for blabbing to her mother about things that didn't concern her. He left the restaurant, storming across the street until he reached the mercantile, pausing when he noticed muddy footprints leading into the store.
The sight irritated him even more, as he assumed someone had been careless enough to do such a thing, and now he would have to scrub the floors himself. The store was empty by now and the sun had almost completely set. He followed the tracks and found that the led into the storeroom, which made no sense to him, until he found Charlotte sitting on a barrel in a corner with her face in her hands, slathered with mud.
The anger went out of Nels at once.
"Charlotte, what happened?" he said, going to her, kneeling by her side. Her nice light blue dress was completely ruined with dark earth, as was the rest of her. She sobbed quietly into her hands, wishing that she could disappear.
"It's... n-nothing," Charlotte murmured, still shielding her face from him. "I'm sorry about the muddy footprints. I... I didn't mean to track them in. I'll clean them up.... It's just... this was the only place I could hide...."
"Charlotte, dear, come on." He gently grabbed her hands and took them away from her face, seeing how she had attempted to scrape the mud from her skin but only managed to smear it.
"It's as if I can't escape humiliation," she breathed, her eyes swollen with tears. "Just one after the other...."
"Charlotte," he said again, giving her a comforting smile. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the mud from her face, though there was so much that it didn't make much of an impact. "I've seen you covered in mud before, remember? When we were down by the river all that time ago?"
She grinned faintly at the memory, but the deep sadness in her was still evident. The sight made Nels ache to the extent that he felt he would do anything to make her happy again. "Stay right there," he said, quickly going to the main room to lock up the store so no one would come in. When he returned to her, he took her by the hands and led her to the kitchen where the water pump was.
He wet a rag and cleaned her face, wiping the mud from her neck, her jaw, her cheeks. Though she said nothing, she still looked upset enough to make him believe that something more happened than just her falling in the mud. When he asked her about it, she seemed to close up into a shell. He had never seen her so reluctant. "Charlotte?" he said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I wish she didn't hate me so," she said in a voice so quiet that Nels could barely hear. "She hated me from the start."
Nels's expression fell. He knew there was only one person she could be talking about. "Did Nellie do this to you?"
"Nels, don't get upset. There's no point—"
"I won't have her disrespecting you like this," Nels said, feeling angrier than before, if possible. "She's always been capable of mean-hearted things, but this is going too far."
"If you punish her, she'll only hate me more," Charlotte replied, meeting his eye.
Nels sighed deeply, rubbing a few specks of mud from Charlotte's face with his thumb. "I can't just let this go. She'll pull something like this again."
"I think she'll try again regardless of what we do," Charlotte said sadly. "But remember, she and Willie are leaving back east in a few days."
He had forgotten about that, and the thought relieved him. "I suppose so.... Still, she has no reason to despise you, though I suppose hating people for no reason has always been her way."
Charlotte hesitated, letting Nels wash the mud from her hands under the water pump. "Do you... think she has an idea about us?"
Nels met her eye. "No, of course not. She couldn't." But he thought about it. The girl seemed to hate Charlotte more after they had been missing that one night during the blizzard. Nel's had a fine excuse to tell her, which was mostly true, that the blizzard had simply trapped them for the night. But perhaps that event was what spurred Nellie's worstening behavior....
"She will eventually. Everyone will. Did you... tell your wife the truth about us when you were on the phone with her?"
The words got stuck in his throat. "Yes," he said. Why did I say that? Why am I lying to her? It just seemed so much easier to say than the opposite. He didn't want to upset her further.
Charlotte smiled brightly and tilted her head. Her misery from a moment ago disappeared in the thought that she was having Nels for herself, officially. "Nels Oleson, if I wasn't draped in mud, I'd take you in my arms."
He smiled back at her, though a string of guilt pulled on his heart. "Speaking of mud, I think that dress is done for."
She looked worried all of a sudden. "But we have to find a way to clean it. I have so few clothes."
"Well, I have an idea I think you'll like. Stay here."
Nels left the room for only a moment before he came back with one of the dresses from the mercantile. It was a deep forest green, so dark it was almost black, and velvety, with a high white lace collar. "I noticed you looking at this ever since it came in," said Nels. He held it out to her, but she was afraid to touch it.
"That's the one of the finest dresses in the mercantile," she said, shocked. "It... it wouldn't be right. I could never pay you back with the way things are. And it's... it's too beautiful."
He chuckled. "Not for you. A city-born girl like you, this might even be on the lower end of what you're used to. I want you to have it. Consider it an early Christmas present. Would you try it on?"
"Oh, Nels," she said, deeply touched. Not even her own father had ever given her such a lavish gift. No one had. She felt almost guilty for taking it, but she could see in Nels's face how much he wanted her to have it. And it was true that she had been admiring it in the store for a long while. "I'd love to try it on. But you must turn around; I won't have you seeing me undress."
Nels diligently turned his back to her after locking the kitchen doors to ensure no one would come wandering in, resting his hands behind his back as he stared at the wall. Of course, hearing the rustling of her clothes as she removed them, he wanted to peak, but he forbade himself.
Charlotte carefully put aside her muddy dress and slipped on the new one, taken aback by the softness of the fabric, the detail of the lace, the warmth of the long sleeves. It reminded her of the finer dresses she used to wear back in the city, but this trumped everything else she ever wore because of its special nature. As soon as she secured the final buttons, she felt like she might burst with delight.
She went to Nels and grabbed his shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. When he turned to look at her, she looked exactly as he imagined she would look in that dress. "Oh, you're lovely," he said, holding her by her waist. He lifted her up on the counter and took a step back to admire her, much like a fantastic painting one would find in a museum. "You always seemed to wear blue, but green fits you just as well."
"Green was always my favorite shade," she confessed. "I only wore so much blue because my father wanted me to."
Her words saddened him somewhat, and he wondered what kind of life she had, beyond the piano, before she came to Walnut Grove. Her uncle Samuel seemed to let her do just about whatever she wanted, but from what he heard of her father, he seemed to be just the opposite.
"Charlotte, are you happy here? In this town?"
Her eyebrows raised, surprised. "I believe I am."
"Would you be happier returning to the city? Living how you used to live, returning to the theaters?"
Charlotte hadn't contemplated such a thing. Ever since her father lost everything, it seemed impossible. It was still feasible for her to return to performing at concerts, especially now that she had conquered many of her fears and she was healthier than ever, and yet, she hadn't given it any serious thought. Walnut Grove was such a simple place, a place that had allowed her to tuck all her anxieties away, to live in a new way she never knew existed.
"I don't know."
It occurred to Nels that, perhaps, Charlotte was just as unsure about her life as he was about his. It frightened him a little. He was a man of routine and didn't like when so much of the future was unknown, undecided. It gave him a certain feeling of desperation, as if this beautiful young woman in green sitting on the counter before him would suddenly slip through his fingers.
Am I enough for her? An old man like me? A little businessman in a town nobody's ever heard of? What happens when I only grow older and she grows more beautiful? Is it selfish of me to want to have her? Will I ever really have her?
All this manifested itself in his stomach as a deep longing, a sadness, an affection that could not be expressed in words. It sapped the strength from his bones.
It was obvious to Charlotte that he was in deep thought, perhaps even in mild turmoil. She reached out and touched his face, her thumb grazing along his sharp jaw. Touching him made her feel comforted, grounded. Like he was all she needed. "I've never been in love with a man the way I'm in love with you, Nels."
His gaze was soft as he looked at her, and he felt that her words might melt him. "Charlotte," he whispered. How he loved saying her name. He leaned forward and kissed her gently, restraining himself. "Charlotte...." He couldn't remember the last time a woman said such wonderful things to him, such delicate things that stirred him in such profound ways.
He pressed his lips to the delicate skin behind her ears. "Charlotte...." He kissed her jaw, her chin, her lips. Charlotte closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his mouth travel across her skin, trying not to shiver. He was so gentle, perhaps the gentlest man she had ever known, which made her want to give herself to him in her entirety, just to feel what it would be like. But she knew how wrong that would be, more wrong than what they had already done together.
His hands ran along her thighs, his lips locked with hers in a way that made her feel she had made it to heaven. It created a fluttering feeling of lightness in her stomach that made her gasp. Anywhere and everywhere he touched her made her ears burn and turn red.
Nels looked at her from under half-lidded eyes, and he was struck by the reddened, shivering sight of her. "Oh, Charlotte," he murmured. "You're adorable." With a depressed sigh, he rested is forehead against her shoulder. "I want you to be just for me," he murmured against her skin.
"I am just for you," she whispered.
He scooped her up and pressed her against his chest, his hands firm against her back. That wonderful pressure and warmth against his body made her stop quivering, and she weakly grasped the back of his vest, burying her face tiredly into his shoulder.
She felt his hand stroke the back of her head, and she knew that between his tenderness and goodness, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, despite the consequences she might face.