Michelle: Bride of Mississippi (American Mail-Order Bride 20) (4 page)

E
ven though Michelle
hadn’t thought she’d sleep, she found herself stretching in her soft bed as the birds outside her window started to chirp. She threw off her covers and wiggled her toes, looking around the room to get her bearings. Had it only been yesterday she’d arrived? And by the end of today, she’d be a married woman.

She climbed down the step stool and wiggled her toes again as her bare feet landed on the soft, oriental rug that covered most of the hardwood floor in her room. The colors were striking--mauves, golds and deep purples--and matched the color of the long curtains that hung on each side of the window.

She crossed the room, leaning her elbows on the windowsill. She’d been so busy since she’d arrived, she took a moment to drink in the area surrounding the house--the trees lining the long drive, their leaves amber, yellow and red and the green grass stretching out all the way to a barn across the yard.

Standing and stretching, she looked at the clock on her vanity. Ten thirty? How had she slept so late? Anthony had said the wedding was at noon at the church downtown on Fillmore Street, and she had things to do before she could even go downstairs.

She ran to the wardrobe and flung the doors open. She pushed past several dresses, her hands finally falling on the one she had made to get married in. She just had had no idea that she would be wearing it on the day after she’d arrived.

Her stomach in a knot, she took the dress out of the wardrobe and laid it gently on the bed. Josephine had said that the pale pink color suited her, making her red curls stand out, but Michelle wasn’t so sure.

She sat down at the vanity, knowing that it didn’t matter now. She would be getting married shortly and that was the dress she had. Running the brush through her hair, she stopped for a moment, holding the brush in front of her. She turned it over and she caught her breath.

Her mother had brushed her hair with this very brush her entire childhood--in fact, right up until she’d died. The back was porcelain, green strands of ivy criss-crossing it and fading out onto the brass trim.

She held it to her chest and closed her eyes. Never had she thought that on her wedding day she’d be alone--without her mother, her aunts or her cousin Josephine. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

Gravel crunching under carriage wheels caught her attention and she ran to the window. Looking out, she held her breath as a driver stepped down and climbed up the steps to the Robbins’ Nest.

She glanced again at the clock--less than fifteen minutes for her to be downstairs.

Pulling at her corset, she tugged the dress over her head, fastening the covered, satin buttons as quickly as she could. She stepped into the matching slippers and reached into her reticule, her fingers wrapping around a small cameo. If her mother couldn’t be here in person, she could be there in spirit.

She clasped the cameo her mother had pressed into her hand just before she’d passed, vowing not to cry as she clasped the velvet onto her throat. “Thank you, Mama. I know this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, but I promise I’ll make you proud,” she said as she looked in the mirror, one final pat to the cameo.

She stood and reached for her coat, making sure that the white gloves were in the pocket. It wasn’t as cold as Lawrence, to be sure, but winter was in the air and the chill coming through the window had reminded her that it soon would be Christmas.

Grabbing her hat and some hair pins, she threw open the door and walked out, her head down as she placed the hair pins in her reticule. She gasped as she ran into something--Anthony’s chest.

“Overslept, maybe?” he said as he grabbed her shoulders and took a step back.

She looked up at his smiling face, flustered as heat crept into her cheeks.

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry. I suppose I didn’t realize how tired I was after the journey.”

“Perfectly understandable, and no need to worry. The pastor is waiting for us after the last Sunday service, and if we leave now, we should have plenty of time to get downtown.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as she wrapped her arm through his offered one.

“You look lovely, Michelle,” he said as he escorted her down the stairs, and she felt her cheeks heat even more.

“Thank you, Anthony.” She snuck a sideways glance at him--his wavy hair, his deep, brown eyes and his dashing suit and tie. She wanted to tell him he looked very handsome, and she almost did as she inhaled his masculine scent--but decided against it. She barely knew this man and that would be incredibly forward.

“You look like a princess,” Mattie said as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Michelle laughed and said, “Thank you. I don’t feel like a princess, but I can pretend.”

Missy pointed at her sister. “She pretends to be a princess all the time.”

She was rewarded with an elbow to the ribs from Mattie. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Missy said as she rubbed her side.

“Well, you suck your thumb.”

Anthony laughed and crouched down to talk to the girls.

He patted them both on the head and said, “Okay, enough of that. We’ll be back in a few hours, so you two need to behave yourselves while we’re gone.”

“Why can’t we go, Uncle Anthony?”

Michelle thought that Mattie’s bottom lip might get stuck out if she pouted any more. She did wonder why the girls weren’t joining them and turned a questioning glance at Anthony.

He stood and held out his arm for Michelle. “This is a grown-up event. We’ll make sure to have a party later that includes the both of you. Now, be good for Mable while were gone.”

Michelle took Anthony’s arm, and followed his lead out the front door and down the porch steps. He smiled and helped her into the carriage, the driver tipping his top hat at her as she stepped inside, Anthony behind her.

She waved at the twins as they pulled out down the driveway and as they reached the end, she sat back in her seat and sighed.

“They really are very darling girls, Anthony,” she said as she fastened her hatpins more tightly.

His eyes clouded. “Yes, they are. I just hope that I can do them justice--raise them as well as Adelaide and her husband would have.”

Michelle rested her hand on Anthony’s arm and he covered hers with his. “I promise that I will do anything and everything I can to make that happen.”

He turned to her, his eyes soft. “Thank you, Michelle. You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you say that. I realize it’s a lot to expect, to give that much to a family you don’t even know.”

She smiled and nodded, turning away and watching the streets of Corinth pass by--her new home. And she knew in that moment that she would do whatever she needed to do for those girls--and for Anthony.

M
ichelle reached
for the small bouquet of flowers that a smiling, older woman handed her as she walked up the steps into the beautiful church. She held her hat on as she looked up at the lovely, brick spires that reached high into the air and the stained glass in the tall windows.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Anthony said as he led her forward into the sanctuary.

Michelle tagged along to the front of the sanctuary, passing the gleaming, wooden pews with hymnals as they passed to the front.

She blinked as Anthony introduced her to the pastor and tried to pay attention and say the right things at the right times. She’d never been one to dream about her wedding day, but somewhere deep down she missed the music, people smiling at her and a wedding gown, and she was startled at how quickly she heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

She looked up into Anthony’s smiling face and wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed when he reached out to shake the pastor’s hand and led her back out of the sanctuary--without a kiss. She shouldn’t really care at all--after all, they’d just met--but something tugged at her, and the thought of never having a real marriage had her frowning.

“What’s the matter?” Anthony asked as they walked out into the bright winter sunshine.

She pulled her gloves on and smiled at him. It wasn’t his fault--they’d both known what they were getting into, and she certainly knew the reason she’d been sent for--and it wasn’t to get a kiss.

“I’m fine. Everything’s just been a little sudden, that’s all.” She looked up and down the street for the carriage that had brought them, assuming they’d head back to the Robbins’ Nest and the girls. “Where’s the carriage?”

Anthony cleared his throat and held his arm out for her. “I let him go. They’re expensive to hire and it’s such a beautiful day, I thought we’d walk.”

She lifted her skirts and looked down at her feet. It hadn’t occurred to her that they might be walking, and she hoped the delicate shoes she’d chosen would hold up.

As they approached the road, Michelle’s stomach grumbled and Anthony stepped back and looked at her. “Oh, you must be hungry.” He looked up and down the street as he rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand on his hip.

Michelle followed his gaze up and down the street and saw nothing but quaint houses. “I am a bit. I missed breakfast, and now it’s well past noon.”

She didn’t want to be a bother, really, but surely he’d thought to go out to eat somewhere on their wedding day. She knew no preparations were being made at the house for any type of celebration--not that she’d want one anyway--but her stomach clenched, needing food. She’d actually hoped he might take her to one of the restaurants in town and maybe she could meet some of the townspeople. She was anxious to get to know her new community.

“All right. I suppose we should go get a little something to eat.”

They walked in silence toward the center of the small town that she’d seen very little of on the drive in yesterday. She looked at the two-story brick store-fronts and read the signs as she went by, and inhaled deeply as they approached a restaurant, her stomach again objecting to its lack of contents.

She felt Anthony’s arm stiffen and looked up at him. He pulled his hat down a little further toward his eyes. He looked down as they drew near and Michelle tried to keep up as he seemed to quicken his step.

“Oh, Anthony. Do stop and say hello.” A woman’s lilting, southern drawl caught them from behind.

Anthony groaned and stopped, adjusting his tie before he turned around. Under his breath, he said to Michelle, “This will just take a moment. Old friend of the family.”

Michelle turned with him, eager to meet anyone who was a friend of her husband’s. She missed all her friends and was happy to meet someone new. She smiled at Anthony and turned with him, moved to silence at the sight of the elegant woman standing before her.

“Michelle, I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Banks, a dear friend of my mother’s. Mrs. Banks, please meet my wife, Michelle.”

An older gentleman exited the restaurant and stood behind Mrs. Banks, and from the way he placed his hand on her back, Michelle assumed it was her husband.

“Hello, Mr. Banks.” Anthony held out his hand and shook the older man’s.

Mr. Banks smiled broadly, his gray, bushy eyebrows rising a bit up his forehead. “Did I hear someone say
wife
?”

“Indeed, sir, you did. This is Michelle, the new Mrs. Chandler.”

Michelle smiled as the older man threw his head back and laughed--a heartier sound she hadn’t heard.

“Well, dear boy, it’s about time. You and those twins must be grateful for the company of such a lovely young lady.”

“Mr. Banks,” his wife admonished, although Michelle noticed her smile and kind eyes. “It is true. You’ve found yourself a lovely wife, Anthony. Your mother would be proud.”

Anthony squeezed Michelle’s arm and she looked up into his eyes. “Thank you, Mr. And Mrs. Banks. I’m very happy to be here.”

“Would you mind if I stole your husband for a moment, Mrs. Chandler? A business matter...”

“No, of course not.” Michelle smiled.

“Thank you. We’ll be but a moment.” Mr. Banks threw his arm around Anthony’s shoulders and led him away from the women, walking a bit further down the road.

“They won’t be long. There always seems to be some sort of business to discuss. Especially lately,” Mrs. Banks said. She cocked her head sideways. “You have lovely hair, my dear, and those curls! Are you from the Jackson Bartlett family, by chance? All their girls seem to have lovely red curls, like yours.”

Michelle’s hand reached for a curl and she smiled. “No, ma’am, I’m not from Jackson.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Banks placed her gloved hand on her chest. “Where are you from then, dear? Certainly not from around here.”

“I’m not. I’m from Massachusetts and I think that your town is very lovely.”

Mrs. Banks glanced across the street to a very large, brick building that also had very tall spires. “It is definitely changing. We had quite a time after the war ended, but now, as the county seat and with the courthouse, I do believe things are changing.”

“They certainly are,” Anthony said as he stepped up behind Michelle.

Michelle turned to look at him and frowned. Both he and Mr. Banks looked at the ground and her eyes met with Mrs. Banks’s.

“And not quickly enough, I’m afraid,” Mr. Banks said as he held his arm out for his wife. “Let’s let these newlyweds get on with their day.”

Mrs. Banks reached for Michelle’s hand and squeezed it. “Oh, of course. I’m sure Anthony’s anxious to take his bride out to a lovely dinner here.” She held her hand beside her mouth and whispered. “It’s the best restaurant in town. You’ll love it.”

Mr. Banks cleared his throat and shot a glance at Anthony as he steered his wife around and toward a buggy in the street.

“Please come around for tea one day, Michelle. Anthony can tell you where we live,” she said over her shoulder as she was helped into their buggy. With a wave, they turned the horses around and headed toward the street.

“They seem awfully nice,” Michelle said as she took Anthony’s offered arm.

He turned and looked behind him at the retreating buggy as he led her further down the street. “Yes. They are very nice, and have been friends of my family for as long as I can remember.”

Michelle stopped and turned around. “Aren’t we going to the restaurant on the corner? It seems very popular.” She rubbed her belly as it growled once more.

Color creeping into his cheeks, Anthony said, “Oh, there? Maybe some other time. I thought we might go have a soda at Borroum’s, and maybe get something to eat there.”

She looked back at the restaurant as he pulled her forward, taking one last, deep inhale of the wonderful aroma coming from it. But she wasn’t really a picky eater, so a soda would be just fine.