Freedom For A Bride: A clean historical mail order bride romance (Montana Passion Book 2) (12 page)

“Look! ‘Tis a whole welcome party come to greet us!” Gretchen said excitedly in Matthew’s small ear. He laughed and waved his arms at her eager voice, oblivious to the man standing on the platform watching expectantly for his wife and son, or the man beside him who stood nervously clutching his hat between his work worn hands.

“Aye, and I haven’t seen a happier sight myself over these last few weeks!” Moira said, looking for Pryor’s face and spotting him between Nathaniel and Mr. Jorgenson, who’d only come out because he’d heard the new sheriff would be arriving on the train. A look at the broken window on the depot and the chinks in the wood where bullets had ricocheted off in different directions spoke the truth: Kieran had arrived not a moment too soon.

Moira smiled broadly when Pryor could finally see her face and waved. Behind her, she heard Katia speaking rapidly to her family and pointing out the window, obviously making the most rudimentary introductions. Moira snuck a quick glance and her heart skipped as the old woman and the two sisters quickly nodded their enthusiastic approval of Nathaniel.

“As grateful as I am to Lord Brennan for arranging this passage in a carriage so fine, I must say it. I can naw wait to be off this train! My legs feel wobbly as a newborn calf like they’ll never hold me steady again!” Gretchen said, before passing Matthew back to his mother and retrieving her small travel case from the shelf. Ronan had spared no expense on the car, so the group—save for Mr. O’Conner, of course, who’d bunked with other men in second class—had simply stayed put in each town they stopped in. They’d disembarked to venture into different cities with the new sheriff as chaperone, but only if they were certain to be spending more than one night. Otherwise, they’d kept to their close quarters, sleeping, reading, eating, and even washing in the same luxurious, but too familiar car.

When the porter finally opened the door and lowered a set of steps for them to descend, it took six ladies all of their strength not to shove their way out into the bright sunshine. Nathaniel tried to remain reserved, but even he had trouble not grabbing Katia in his arms the way Pryor had already taken hold of Moira.

“And who is this?” he asked, holding tightly to Katia’s hand, even if they were in public.

“Yell, here is my mama. My sister. My sister.” She pointed to each woman in turn and pronounced each woman’s name and relationship as best she could, having passed that long days of travel working hard at her English, taking turns with Moira and Gretchen.

“Your mother?” he asked nervously, turning to Pryor. “I thought the whole point of writing off for a wife was so I wouldn’t have to put up with having her mother around!”

“Sorry, it looks like you signed up for a package deal!” Pryor said, laughing and clapping Nathaniel on the shoulder. “Let’s get the ladies’ things loaded in the wagon and head home. It’s a good thing we finished your cabin while they were gone, don’t you think?”

They had a light lunch on the grass behind Jorgenson’s shop while introductions were made. Both men took turns holding their sons, Pryor with his child and Nathaniel immediately taken with Nikolai. Gretchen had said her goodbyes to Kieran, secretly hoping they would see each other again soon, but then also said her goodbyes to Moira and Matthew.

“Katia and her family will have need of your cabin until the wedding, so I’ll stay in the spare room at the shop. Besides, it’s time I returned to my duties in the store, now that everyone seems to be settled.” Moira was ready for Gretchen’s former somber mood to return, but there was a new shine on her face that seemed to give the girl some comfort. If she’d known all it took was having a friend in town—a friend like Kieran, she surmised knowingly—she’d have written to Ronan months ago and asked him to send someone over.

When it was time to go, the whole group looked like a gypsy caravan heading away from New Hope. The wagon was loaded with trunks and bags while Katia’s mother held both babies in her lap on the wagon seat beside Pryor. He looked over at the strange woman from time to time, meeting her gaze with an awkward smile every time.

Nathaniel and Katia rode on two of Ronan’s new horses beside the wagon, talking as best they could in a mashup of English, German, and pantomime. Moira helped out when needed, but otherwise spoke to Katia’s sisters, Elena, and Mariska, in the French they’d learned in school. The three other ladies rode the remaining horses, with the last one tied to the wagon to follow.

“Mr. Russell, I don’t think we ever decided once and for all when this wedding shall take place,” Moira called.

“What are you doing at six o’clock tonight?” he answered back, never taking his eyes of his future bride. They laughed, but she was falsely stern with him.

“And not have a chance to prepare a suitable feast first? Never! I won’t hear of it! Besides, there are wedding presents to be had in the trunks and a small trousseau for Katia. She’ll need time to arrange her new home, too. I think it best that you stay at our place for a couple of days beforehand and give these ladies a chance to get settled in their new home.”

They set a date for the following Saturday, plenty of time for sewing and cooking if they all worked together. They eventually reached the first cabin, the one that sat on Moira’s original homestead. The groups carried the trunks inside for Katia and her family, watching in surprise as her mother and sisters wept with joy at the sight of the cabin and all the land, a veritable palace compared to the cramped, smelly room they shared in the city. The four women waved from the porch as Pryor, Nathaniel, and Moira continued on.

After seeing Nathaniel on his way, leading his fine new team of horses to his cabin, Pryor finally had a moment to appreciate the return of his sweet wife. He pressed his nose to her hair and inhaled the scent of her, one that had haunted him in every corner of his home while she was away.

“You can’t leave me like that again, promise me,” he begged hoarsely. “It was so empty here without you.”

“Oh, Pry, but you knew I was coming home! I’m sorry you were lonely, but you should naw ever worry that I won’t return. And besides, it is I who missed you all the more. My brother invited me to Brennan for his wedding in May, and I could naw do it. The very thought of taking a ship across the ocean and leaving this farm for so long made my heart crumble, even more than the thought of not being by his side to see him married. I can naw say that I’ll never travel again, but I promise I’ll never be gone from you for too long, and I won’t be going away anytime soon, that I can vow!”

He held her face carefully between his hands, barely brushing her soft skin with his fingertips to keep the callouses on his cracked hands from coming in contact with her delicate features. She read his intent all too well, and, instead, pressed her hands against his, holding his hands close to her skin. He kissed her lightly as she rested against his chest, content to be back where she belonged in the world.

***

The town of New Hope had never before seen a celebration like a wedding planned by Moira MacAteer. It was not enough to simply have the clerk oversee the signing of the papers. There had to be prayers and blessings offered over the couple, music to celebrate by, and food the likes of which the residents had not eaten in a long time. It was a celebration long overdue, not just for the happiness of a man and wife, but in the shedding off of the bleak winter and the welcoming of a late spring filled with hope.

“I’ll be glad enough when this wedding is behind us,” Moira said to Pryor one night as they fell into bed, exhausted from the last of the planting. Much of their crop for the year had been sown in by Pryor and Nathaniel while she was gone to New York, both men working together to put in the crops for their respective farms. Now all that was to be done was the large garden beside their barn, the plot that would provide their food in the coming year.

“I agree, and no one is more glad than Nathaniel. He’s petrified with fear, you know. You’d think, with these two months gone, he’d have had time to adjust to the notion of getting married without quaking so much in his boots.”

“How’s that? What’s there to be afraid of from a wife who barely comes to his shoulder?” she teased softly. Pryor laughed in the darkness.

“No, not the ceremony. The feast afterward. He’s never been one to spend too much time in town, he likes to keep to himself and pass the time with those he knows best. Katia, and now her family, and us, of course. Although if Kieran doesn’t stop coming around, I’m going to have to put him to work!”

“Oh, you jest, husband. Kieran is sweet on Gretchen, I know it, although to hear her talk, she still thinks of him as the boy who threw flour on her in the pantry when they were young. I can tell, though, it’s a woman’s intuition. Those two will be the next wedding we have to plan!”

“No! I can’t take it! There are to be no more weddings until after harvest time! Just let me have this summer to rest!” he answered, pleading with his wife through his laughter.

“I can naw make any promises! The heart wants what the heart wants, and I know that Kieran’s heart pines for Gretchen. You’ll see! Now that Nathaniel has finally finished the rooms in his cabin where Katia’s family will stay, he’s to be a married man with a family. I’ll have plenty of work to do planning Gretchen’s occasion with naught else to think of!”

Moira could not have known how right her prediction would be, nor how soon. The next morning, she was feeding chickens and gathering eggs when Gretchen came riding up on horseback, alone. Moira shielded her eyes from the sun and pushed back her bonnet to see better, but all she saw was Gretchen’s excited, smiling face.

“My, my, Gretchen, have you become a horse thief in your free time? Our sheriff may have something to say about that now,” Moira laughed, stroking the beautiful horse’s soft muzzle when Gretchen rode up. She slid both legs down the animal’s flank and jumped down, smiling back at Moira.

“I should say that he does, considering he’s the one as gave it to me!” she answered dodgingly, looking away and not meeting Moira’s eye.

“A horse?” Moira demanded, barely able to contain her surprise and her premonition at why he would do such a thing. “The sheriff of our fair town gave you a horse? Because… perhaps Mr. Jorgenson was all out of coffee to give you? Maybe there’s a shortage of fine cloth at the shop, so Kieran decided he should give you a horse as a token of his friendship?”

They stared each other down for a brief moment, neither woman letting on what was racing through her mind. Finally, Gretchen cracked, a gleeful expression brightening her face.

“It is a bride price, just like he would have given to my father, had we stayed back in Ireland!” Gretchen said, barely containing her glee at the sudden news.

“You can naw be serious!” Moira shouted, but with happiness instead of contempt. “I was just saying this very thing to Pryor last night! I knew he would ask you to be married! And a horse? What a kind gesture for him to remember that it is only fitting to come with horses when asking for a hand! When shall you wed, do you think?”

“Oh, I would naw think for at least a month or two, as Kieran will build us a small house closer to town. Mr. Jorgenson offered us the apartment above the store since he doesn’t like to climb the stairs anymore, but Kieran will naw hear of it. He has naw said so, but I’ve known him since we were little. He will naw marry me until he can build me a proper home, and that’s as ‘tis should be.” They nodded thoughtfully for a moment at the old traditions still kept despite the wildness of the new home, when suddenly Moira called out a revelation.

“No! I’ve a much better idea in mind. We’ll make this upcoming wedding a lavish affair, and both couples can marry and celebrate together!” Moira clapped her hands with excitement at the prospect of a double wedding but was crestfallen when Gretchen refused, shaking her head mournfully.

“Moira, we can naw. ‘Tis not right. I know this is the frontier and everyone’s a free man out here and all, but you have to remember Kieran and I were born into a life of service. Whether ‘tis America or Ireland or anywhere else, Mr. Russell is a land owner, and we are but servants. It would naw be our place to celebrate at such an important occasion as his wedding to Katia.” She hung her head for a moment and looked away. Their rambunctious happiness from only a moment ago was replaced by a silent awkwardness. Gretchen’s protest reminded Moira of the tenuous ground of what passed for friendship between them.

Moira squared her shoulders and lifted her head. “Gretchen O’Brien, all I have to say to that ‘tis nonsense! You are not a servant here, and neither is Kieran. He is an educated man, and I know this because ‘tis my brother who saw to his education. That means Kieran had the finest schooling there was to be had. But he is more than that, he is also now a government official, an extension of the United States Land Office! That is naw a servant, but a man of position and prestige who has a salary and land to build his own home. I’ll not hear any more of this servant talk out of you, either. You are a merchantwoman yourself, even if ‘tis only at Jorgenson’s shop. And I dare say, who do you think he’ll expect to replace him when he can naw run his business? Why, you are to be a businesswoman, married to a government official! You shall not talk to me any further about not staying in your place!”

She grabbed Gretchen and held her close, refusing to let go until she felt the tension melt out of the girl’s body. Gretchen finally stepped back, and Moira was heartbroken to see there were tears dampening her cheeks.