Gabrielle: Bride of Vermont (American Mail-Order Bride 14) (12 page)

Mattie set down her basket and looked up at the sky. “At least there’s some sunshine for warmth, in spite of the wind. I might as well take my coat off. It’ll just be in the way.” Rolling up her sleeves, she walked over to Gabrielle and stood at the opposite end of the saddle. “How about we lift this thing together?”

Half an hour later, Gabrielle sat silently on one end of her sofa in the parlor and allowed Mattie to serve her some hot tea following the lunch Mattie shared with her. “I should be serving you,” she mumbled sadly.

“My dear, don’t you worry about it. I’ve served tea and coffee in this house many times over the years. It’s always a pleasure,” Mattie said as she made herself comfortable. “Are those cookies I saw reserved for a special occasion? Christmas Day, maybe?”

Gabrielle stood up and hobbled over to a counter. Mattie started to protest, but Gabrielle waved her off. “I’m fine. Just a little sore.”

She rejoined Mattie and told her she would have had a piece of apple pie to offer, save for the unfortunate accident that caused her hand to be burned.

When there was a break in the conversation, Mattie spoke up. “You’ve been here a few weeks now. How have you settled in? Feel like home yet?”

Gabrielle choose her words carefully. “It feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.”

Mattie smiled warmly. “I’m so glad.”

The older woman had a gentle spirit about her that made Gabrielle feel comfortable.

“There have been some hard things, but I think I’ve adjusted well considering how different my life was in Vermont and Massachusetts.”

“Vermont? I thought you came from Massachusetts?” Mattie asked.

“I was born in Vermont and lived there until I finished school. Hearing about jobs in factories led me to move away to work in Massachusetts as soon as I could. I lived with roommates ever since that time. The feel of the apartment we lived in was always changing with the various preferences of the girls who came and went. I called it home, but it was never anything like this.”

Gabrielle looked around the room.

Mattie followed Gabrielle’s glance before standing up and walking over to the large picture window. “You’ve certainly made a lot of noticeable changes here. The curtains are beautiful, and everything is spotless. I had no idea the floors in this house had such intricate inlays. I daresay you’ve made some great improvements by relocating a few collectibles,” she laughed. “You’ve made it perfectly lovely. I’m sure Boone is very appreciative of all you’ve done.”

Gabrielle smiled. “He seems to like m—,” she stopped. “He seems to like the changes.”

Mattie studied Gabrielle’s face. “Clyde tells me Buck has come home. We’ve sure missed him these last months. He’s one of Clyde’s favorite kids, you know.”

“I noticed Buck spoke of Clyde with affection.” Gabrielle clarified. “Have you known him all of his life?”

“No. Buck came to live with some relatives in Coltonville when he was seven or eight. Boone came a bit after that.” Mattie was quiet for a few seconds before changing the subject. “How do you like having a son?”

Gabrielle laughed. “He doesn’t seem like a son. More like a guest, frequently coming and going, and leaving the occasional mess here and there. He tells us that he’s working on setting up some type of music business, but he’s been pretty vague. We don’t really know his plans.”

“I guess that’s the nature of young men. They want their independence but they don’t really have much of an idea about how to go about getting things taken care of. All talk and little action, at first. My friends tell me these can be rather interesting years as boys grow into men. I don’t know that from personal experience, though. Clyde and I have three grown daughters and several grandchildren. We’ve come to learn that our children will do as they will. Sometimes we get to be privy to their plans, and other times we get to be surprised.”

Gabrielle sighed. “I guess we’re going to be the latter. There doesn’t seem to be any real plan. Buck is living in the barn and seems perfectly content out there.”

“In this cold weather?” Surprised, Mattie shook her head. “That’s youth for you, I guess. I’d freeze to death or be so stiff I couldn’t move a muscle at dawn.” She hesitated. “But, that’s crazy! Why doesn’t he want to sleep in his own bed?”

“Boone sleeps in that room,” Gabrielle said quietly and watched Mattie’s face closely for her reaction.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Oh!” she exclaimed and smiled nervously.

“Boone and I had a special arrangement, if you remember.” Gabrielle said, blushing.

“Yes, of course, dear. I guess I’d forgotten.” She looked curiously at her young friend. “I’m just surprised that you’ve actually… well… stayed in separate bedrooms, after all.”

Gabrielle nodded, understanding. “Well, why not? It was what we both wanted when we agreed to marry. So, that’s what we’re doing.”

Mattie mused. “I must confess I didn’t really believe it could be done. Two lovely people such as yourselves, remaining celibate. It’s just hard to fathom. I don’t know anyone would be able to manage it while living under the same roof.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Gabrielle spoke in sing-song. “A deal’s a deal.”

Mattie eyed her, questioning. “Are you happy with your deal? I mean, after being here and living in this house for a while. Do you have any regrets?”

She laughed off Mattie’s question. “I regret dragging that saddle outside and trying to hang it over the fence!”

They both chuckled, and when it was quiet Mattie had another question for her. “Why were you doing that by yourself? Boone would have helped you, if you’d asked.”

Gabrielle sighed. “No, I don’t think he would have. He’s told me that I’m not to ride the horses,” she said, looking down at her lap.

Mattie chose her words carefully. “Ah, so you were taking the saddle out just to see how it looked?” she asked tentatively.

Gabrielle’s eyes flashed as she retorted. “I wanted to ride! Boone doesn’t even say why he doesn’t want me to. He just tells me not to. I don’t understand it at all. I’m a woman living in the West, so why shouldn’t I do what Western women do? I figured I’d just learn while he’s away. I have a good idea of what to do. I’ve been reading… and watching. I’m pretty determined. I’ll figure it out.”

“I can see that. You should ask him about it, though. He might explain his reasons, if you brought it up when you’re not standing outside by the corral with a dusty saddle at your feet.”

Gabrielle smirked. “He’s just being stubborn for no good reason, as far as I can tell. He probably just thinks a city girl can’t learn.” She crossed her arms in front of her and winced when the burned hand pressed against her bruised ribs.

Mattie saw Gabrielle’s pain. “Dear girl, I’m sorry you’re all beat up. You’ll feel better soon, I’m sure.” She patted her on the leg sympathetically. “You’ll feel better, too, when you make the effort to talk to him about the riding. You might be surprised at his reasons,” Mattie suggested.

“I’ll think about it.”

Mattie asked Gabrielle what she had planned for dinner. Insisting she cook for her, she shooed the younger woman away and told her to take a soaking bath.

“Goodness, no. You don’t have to cook for me. I can handle it,” Gabrielle declined.

Mattie pressed her, “I know you can handle it, my dear. But, you don’t
have
to handle it. I won’t take no for an answer. I’m here, and you, dear girl, quite literally need a hand. My girls are all grown and gone from home; let me mother you just a bit.”

Gabrielle felt the sting of sadness in her heart.
Oh, Momma, I miss you!
She nodded her head, unable to speak.

Gabrielle’s gratitude went beyond words. Walking to her room, she gathered what she needed for a therapeutic bath.

CHAPTER TWELVE

After the Williamsons left and Buck had retired to the barn, Boone and Gabrielle sat in their parlor, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace.

“Is there anything else I can do to help you tonight?” Boone asked, looking at her bandaged hand.

She blushed, embarrassed that she’d been careless and gotten burned. “No, thank you. It was really kind of you to clean up after dinner. I like the way you insisted Mattie sit and visit, rather than wash dishes.”

“She’s a tough one, but I know how to handle her,” he said, patting himself on the chest.

Gabrielle was thoughtful. “I felt a little strange allowing her to cook dinner tonight, but I couldn’t seem to tell her not to. I didn’t admit it, but I was actually very grateful for her help. She really did go out of her way to be kind to me today,” she said, conscious of the various parts of her body that continued to ache.

“That sounds like Mattie all right. She has a heart the size of Texas. I’ve always respected the way she gives unselfishly to everyone. She showed me many kindnesses after I first arrived here— more than I ever deserved.”

“Like what?” she asked, turning her body toward him and making herself more comfortable.

Boone was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, when I arrived in Coltonville, eight years ago now, I’d been through a pretty bad time. It was over a year after my wife, Amanda, had passed. Selfishly, I could only think of my loss and I gave up on taking care of myself, and Buck, too. Anyway, the Williamsons sort of adopted him into their family and helped him out a lot after all of that.”

“How wonderful that you, well the both of you, had someone like her after your Amanda—,” Gabrielle stopped, choking on the words.

Boone looked over to see why she had stopped. “What is it?” he asked, scooting closer to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Gabrielle put one hand over her mouth, as though it would cover the unexpected surge of emotion. The look of concern in Boone’s brown eyes undid her. She shook her head, tears spilling down her face, unable to utter a word.

Gently, Boone moved next to her and wrapped his arms around her as they sat side by side. She stiffened, but he didn’t let go. He sat quietly, waiting for her to relax.

Finally, Gabrielle laid her head on his shoulder, giving way to the tide that would not be contained.
I mustn’t do this. I can’t cry like this!
Once the floodgates were opened though, she could not call back her tears. She melted into his embrace and sobbed silently, making great effort not to cry out loud.

He waited, rocking her slightly, offering quiet consolation. When he felt her shuddering stop, he spoke. “What’s wrong, Gabrielle?”

Finally, she blubbered, “My hand burns. My ribs ache. My foot is bruised, and I—, well, oh, Boone! I—, I miss my mother!” She began to sob again.

He held her tightly, silent as he let her cry it out. When she started to calm down again, he whispered quietly over her head. “I’m so sorry.”

She sniffled loudly against his shoulder. “Mattie was so kind. I just felt like crying all evening because I kept thinking about how my mother took care of me when I was a little girl. I once fell down some stairs, and every part of my body ached like it does now. My dear mother… she was so wonderful back then. And now, well now she’s gone!”

Boone held onto her while the tears continued. “I daresay you’ve needed this cry for some time now.”

She took a deep breath, then another. “I couldn’t let myself cry when she died in October. There was too much to do. And then I had to find a way to support myself. There were no jobs, and I was running out of money. I didn’t know where to turn, until I remembered the ad for mail-order brides. And, well, you know the rest. There just hasn’t been time to grieve.”

Gabrielle sniffled, using her bandage to dab at her wet nose. She allowed herself to be held, comforted by Boone’s sympathetic touch. He shifted slightly, relaxed, and leaned back, never letting go of her.

She felt the palm of his hand and her pulse raced when he stroked her hair, but she remained still with her cheek against his chest. She could feel his heart beating and noticed the warmth of his body as she leaned into him.

His hand went from her head down to rest on her shoulder and remained there. She sighed against him, completely through with her crying now. His right arm slid around her waist. He gently pulled her closer to himself.

It was hard to breathe, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself away. She forced herself to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tilting her chin upward she pulled her head off his chest and looked into his eyes. They were darker than she’d remembered. Her heart felt it would burst. She was sure he could feel her trembling when he smiled slightly and looked into her eyes. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss her lips. She closed her eyes and relaxed against him.

The image of her step-father appeared before her closed eyes, and she suddenly turned her head into Boone’s chest, avoiding the kiss.

She spoke rapidly, “I’m sorry to cry like a child. It’s just been a terrible day, and I guess I’m exhausted. First the burned bread and the pie burning my hand, then trying to mop up the dreadful mess and get all the smoke out of the house. Then I could barely manage lifting and dragging the saddle to the corral—,” Gabrielle suddenly felt tension shoot through Boone’s arms as he sat up quickly and stared at her, pulling back from her. Too late she realized that she’d spoken about the saddle.

“You rode today?” he said, shocked. His voice escalated with every sentence as he untangled his arms from around her. “Did you get thrown? Is that why your ribs and foot are messed up? You said you’d fallen, but not from a horse!” He stood, looking down at her. “And, I had no idea you’d deliberately gone against my instructions.”

She sat, looking up at him, her mouth opened to protest. “Boone, no— I…let me explain.”

He didn’t give her a chance to talk. He shook his head and balled his fists at his sides. “Why? Why would you do the one thing I asked you not to do? Was it such a terrible thing to ask?”

Stubbornness welled up within her. “Why? Because I’m a grown woman and I do what I want to do! I’ve always done just what I’ve needed to make it on my own,” she said loudly, her voice escalating.

“You’re not on your own anymore! You’re living in my house and you’re my wife. You’ll do as I say,” he responded sternly.

Gabrielle shook her head and spewed what she was thinking. “Why should I do as you say, Boone?
You
won’t even do as you say!” She stood up angrily, in spite of the pain she felt around her ribs.

“What do you mean?” he shot back.

She burst into tears. “You said you didn’t want romance! Look at what you’ve done to me today. You kissed my cheek this morning before you left. And just now, well, you held me so tenderly, pulling me closer and closer, and you were about to kiss my lips just then. Don’t deny it. Don’t you dare! I thought I could trust you to keep your word, but you’re just like… like…” She drew a quick breath. “You’re just like I was afraid you’d be!” She turned her back on him and hurried across the room.

Stopping suddenly she spun around and faced him. “And for what it’s worth, I never even mounted any of your precious horses!” She ran from the room, mortified that she was crying again and had so utterly lost control of herself.

Boone sat down on the couch, shaking his head and wondering how it had gone from a blissful and tender moment to a place where his wife had run away from him, overwhelmed with tears and emotion. And anger. She’d definitely been angry.

Standing up slowly, he quietly followed her to her room and stood outside of the closed door. He envisioned her lying across the bed as he heard the great sobs that wracked her body, even though he thought them to be muffled by a pillow. He stood with one hand on the knob and the other against the door frame, head cocked to the side, eyes closed. Saddened, he bowed his head, praying for wisdom.

Dear God, hear her cries and comfort her as only You can. There is a deeper pain here than those of burns and bruises. Her heart is wounded, and I don’t know what to do. Capture her heart, Lord. Let her somehow see You through the tears. Let her know she is loved. Show me what to do.

He waited, unsure of whether to knock or walk away and let her cry it out.
Show her you love her. Let go of your fear.

Boone sighed and walked to his own room, quietly closing the door.

*******

They avoided one another the next day. She left breakfast on the counter, along with a note letting him know she wasn’t feeling well and would be staying in bed.

The house was quiet. Boone worked outside of the house, and Buck was gone all day having mentioned he had some work to do away from home.

Gabrielle made sure to prepare meals early enough to be gone from the kitchen by the time Boone came in from the barn to eat.

Boone washed his own dishes and waited for Gabrielle to come back to thank her but she never showed up.

*******

The following morning Boone walked toward the back of the house and found her bedroom door open.

Stepping closer, he cleared his throat, “Gabrielle? Would you have some coffee with me? I’ve already made some. And it’s a beautiful morning. We can sit on the porch and talk, if you’re willing.”

“I guess I can’t avoid talking with you forever, can I?” she asked softly.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

Once settled on the chairs outside, she began speaking. “Where’s Buck?”

He shook his head. “Gone again. He said he’d see us at the Christmas Eve service at the church. But if he gets to playing music, no telling when we’ll see him.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about that. The service, I mean,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I guess I forgot to mention it. It’s kind of a tradition. Folks around here gather on Christmas Eve, weather permitting, to sing and listen to the reading of the story of the birth of Jesus. It’s one of my favorite times. Buck and I never miss it.”

“It doesn’t even seem like Christmas to me. I guess the timing of my coming, and probably your concussion, too, have made it sort of strange. I’m sure next year we’ll be a little more prepared.”

Boone laughed nervously. “I’m glad to hear you talking about next year.”

Gabrielle retorted, “I’m going to be here next year, in case you were thinking that I won’t be. I made a commitment, and I didn’t make it lightly. I hope you know that.”

“I’ve known since you went ahead and married a man who treated you differently than you expected from the very first time you met him.” He stopped and smiled at her. “I started calling you ‘beautiful’ first thing. I’ve read over our letters, and I’m sure you weren’t expecting that.” He paused, “I’m thankful that you stuck to your agreement and married me that night, in spite of my outright flirtation.”

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly.

He spoke cautiously. “Gabrielle, you said something recently that I want to ask you about. You said that I wasn’t ‘true to my word’ and that I was ‘acting just like you expected.’ And you were right. I was about to kiss you. I’m sorry for that. I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life but that wasn’t why I leaned over to touch my lips to yours.” He stopped and waited until she looked into his eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking about your beauty right then, although I must confess, I’ve thought of it many times in the last few weeks. I looked into those sad blue eyes of yours and I saw your grief. I saw pain and loneliness there. I know now that you were missing your mother, but at the time I really thought you needed
me
. I wanted to hold you and not let go. I wanted to keep you from being lonely.”

His sincerity pricked her heart. He’d only wanted to comfort.
He cares about me! But, how can I tell him the truth?

Distancing herself from her thoughts, she avoided responding to what he’d just told her. “You said you wanted to ask me about something. What was it?”

“You said you thought you could trust me to keep my word but that I was just like… and then you didn’t finish. Who am I just like?” he asked, looking right into her eyes.

Shame overwhelmed her. Quickly, her eyes darted away from him.

“Please, Breezy. Don’t turn away. I’d like to know what you’re thinking,” he said gently.

You wouldn’t want me around at all if you knew what I was thinking when you nearly kissed me.

“Gabrielle?” he prompted.

Miserably, she shook her head. “What I said wasn’t true. You aren’t like
anyone
I’ve ever known,” she said softly. “But I was fearful when you almost kissed me. I wanted a marriage in name only because—” she hesitated, gathering the courage to speak openly. “Well, because I have a reason for it. It’s because of a man named George.” She inhaled and blew out a hard breath. “He was my step-father.”

Boone leaned forward, listening intently, so Gabrielle hurried on with her story. “My mother and I had been on our own as long as I can remember. But then she fell ill and struggled to support us. Momma had gone to a local mission for help and she met George there. It wasn’t long before they had a very brief courtship and soon after that, they married.”