Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) (14 page)

He kneaded the arch of her foot with the heel of his hand, and smiled. “You are indeed and spoiled.”

“Yes, I am, thanks to you.” She closed her eyes and knew if she didn’t move soon, this was exactly where she’d be in the morning. Stifling a yawn, she opened her eyes. “I love you, Griffin Benning.”

He scooped her up and kissed her. “I love you, too. Shall we go to bed?”

“I’m still not very sleepy.”

“Neither am I.”

EPILOGUE

Flat Rock Point, December 15, 1890

“Griffin, are you sure it isn’t too much to spend?”

“I’m sure.” He offered Laurel his arm. “Shall we go see what he’s done so far and finalize the order?”

“Yes.” She saw Mr. Adams working in the back room of the furniture store. He was carving the panel on a wooden door similar to the one he’d made for their house. He did beautiful work and they were fortunate the beds they needed didn’t have to come from Little Rock. She stepped up to the counter and rang the bell.

“Mrs. Benning, Griffin,” Adams looked up from his work, waved and came out to greet her and Griffin. “Come on back and tell me what you think of the beds. You said you wanted something simple, and I thought a turned four-poster frame would work in any situation.”

She ran her hands over the polished wood on the one that was complete. “You’ve done extraordinary work on such short notice.”

“It helped that I had one already finished and only had to make a duplicate to fill your order.”

“They’re exactly what I had in mind.” She smiled broadly at Griffin. “They’re perfect now, and for when the girls get older and want their own beds.”

“Adams, shall I pay you now?”

“No, I’ll put them on your account and next time you’re in town will be soon enough.” He wrote notes in his ledger sitting on his desk. “I’ll have these finished and delivered by the end of the week. Will that be all right?”

“That should be fine. We don’t have a definite date yet for when our company will be arriving.”

“I’ll get them delivered as early in the week as I can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Adams.”

Outside on the walkway, Laurel pulled her coat closer to her throat. Finally, the air had a nip to it. She knew back home in Philadelphia and Lawrence, they already had several feet of snow. And while she liked the ease of getting around without the mess, she quite missed the beauty of the fluffy white flakes.

“So where are we headed now?” she asked.

“Well, I have business with, Jasper, at the livery, so why don’t I walk you to the general store? You can pick out the extra linens you need, and I want you to look for a rug for the attic bedroom.”

“And then, we can meet for lunch at the café?”

“Sounds good to me.” He held her elbow and guided her toward the general store. “I’ve had a hankering lately for Maudie’s stew. Meet you there in an hour?”

“Yes.”

After he left her at the door, Laurel went inside to peruse the aisles of merchandise. For a small town, Mr. Babcock kept the shelves amply stocked with fashionable merchandise, as well as the necessities. Some items she’d seen only last season in the stores back east.

Looking around the store, she found new sheets and coverlets for the smaller beds, along with two new feather pillows. She also saw a water pitcher and bowl painted with pale pink roses and a delicate butterfly that was too beautiful to resist. She set her selections at the counter by the register and saw Tildie, accompanied by Charis Jenkins, otherwise known as the Widow Jenkins, come in the front door. She’d met the woman at her own wedding reception a few weeks ago, and even though Griffin had a problem with her, she found the woman pleasant enough, but lonely.

Laurel joined the women at the millinery counter. “Hello, ladies. How are you this fine day?”

“Fine, thank you,” Charis answered.

“Oh, Laurel, I’m glad we ran into you today.” Tildie picked up a hat with feathers, satin ribbons, and netting, and handed it to the overly quiet woman. “You’re invited to the parsonage this Sunday afternoon, for a reception honoring Charis and her wedding to Henrik Hailstock.”

“We’d be privileged to attend, if we can get back to town. I’ll be sure and check with Griffin.” She shook hands with Charis. “Please accept my sincere congratulations.”

“Have you heard from your parents, as to whether they’ll be able to visit for Christmas?” Tildie asked.

“Not yet, but I’m hoping there’ll be a letter waiting for me at the Post Office today.”

“I hope so, too, dear. Well we should be going. We have to go by the dressmaker’s shop for the fitting of her wedding dress. Ready, Charis?”

“Yes, Tildie. Goodbye, Laurel.”

“Goodbye.”

She went to the back of the store where Mr. Babcock displayed the rugs, picked out one she liked, and made arrangements to pick up her purchases after their lunch.

The post office was next to the bank, which was on her way to the café. Barely big enough to turn around in, the clerk sat behind a barred window with a pass-through and a letter drop off to one side. Hoping for one letter, expecting none, she was completely surprised to find there were two letters waiting for her. She was so excited, she practically flew to the café.

Laurel sat at a vacant table by the front windows, and ordered two bowls of stew from Maudie when she brought over a glass of water. After Maudie left to wait on another customer, she looked at the treasured envelopes. The return address on one of the letters was Massachusetts, from a Mrs. L. Hord. The second was from Pennsylvania. Since it would be a few minutes before Griffin joined her, she retrieved her glasses and eagerly opened the letter written in her mother’s handwriting.

December 9, 1890

My darling Laurel,

We were so glad to receive your letter letting us know you are all right. I always worried about you after you left to live with Lottie, but I knew she was looking after you. When she died and you stopped writing, it was like I had lost both of you. Your father was worried, but, like you he is stubborn. Yes, he threatened to bring you back home, but in the end, he decided to wait you out.

You are married and you’ve given me grandchildren! I confess I am surprised. I truly thought you would follow in Lottie’s footsteps and join the women’s movement. But at the same time, I am excited for you. It sounds like such an adventure you’ve undertaken.

We appreciate your invitation to visit and meet your new family. Adeline and Emmeline are packing as I write. As soon as I finish writing, I will post this letter and pack for your father and I. I am also bringing some special things I want you to have.

We should arrive by December 23, I believe, on the morning train. I will be counting the days until we are reunited.

Mama

She slipped off her glasses and dabbed at her eyes. One more week and she could hug her mama close. When she looked up, Griffin stood across from her. He pulled out the chair and sat.

“Is that a letter from your mother?”

“Yes, and they should be here next week.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Griffin, I’m so excited, I can hardly sit still. There’s so much I want to do before they get here.”

“Am I going to be able to have my stew, or are we going to have to leave before we place our order?”

She recognized his teasing by now, and liked it. She was learning to give as good as she got, so she raised an eyebrow and answered, “Whatever you feel is the right thing to do, Mr. Benning. Use your best judgement.”

“Not even a little intimidated?” he asked with a grin.

“I’m immune to your tactics, sir. Is that the best you have?”

“It’s all I can do on an empty stomach.”

“Then it’s a good thing your wife has a kind heart.” She nodded toward the kitchen door. “Your stew is on its way.”

Halfway through their meal, Griffin slowed his eating and leaned back against the chair. She’d been crying when he joined her at the table, and he wondered if all was well or if her father had disappointed her in some way. Would he be making a trip to Philadelphia in the near future to educate Mr. Peter Weidner on how he would be treating his daughter in the future?

“What all did your mother have to say?”

“That they were looking forward to the trip and coming to Arkansas, that Emmeline and Adeline were already packing.” She smiled. “I can just imagine their chatter about what to bring and how to stuff one more thing into a corner of the trunk.”

“So did they learn that from you or the other way around?” He referenced her trunks, partly because he liked the way she responded to him and partly because there hadn’t been an inch of extra space in her trunks. She could give lessons.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, you.”

“That was all? No bad news?”

“No, she’s excited about meeting Coral and Josie, and the fact that she now has grandchildren.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “Do you think Gwenda will be all right with Mama paying attention to the girls?”

“You’ve known Gwenda for a month, now, what do you think?”

“I think she’ll be fine with it, but I also think it’s a good thing there are two children.”

“Did you receive another letter?”

Picking up the envelope, she said, “Yes, and it’s from Lawrence, but I don’t recognize the name. It’s from a Mrs. L. Hord . . . oh! I wonder . . .” She moved her bowl out of the way, tore open the letter, and started reading. “It is from her. Griffin, do you remember me telling you about the young woman who sat beside me at the mill and lost her fingers in an accident?”

“I do.”

“Well, it seems she, Lynnette Thomas, got my address from the woman who runs the boarding house and . . .” She read further down the page. “It seems, she’s married a gentleman right there in Lawrence, a Mr. Lucien Hord. Umm, she says he doesn’t mind her disability and she’s very happy.” She sniffed and smiled over at Griffin. “Isn’t that wonderful news?”

“Yes, it is. After Christmas, when things settle down, you’ll have to write her.” He put money on the table to pay for their meal and stood as she put the letters away. “What do you say we load up the wagon with your purchases and head to the house?”

“I’m ready. There is much to do.”

***

A week later, Griffin stood beside Laurel on the platform at the train station. He put his arm around her shoulders to still that little bounce she did when she was nervous or cold. With her family due here at any time and the temperature dropping drastically, either reason was plausible today. He’d tried to get her to wait inside the building when they’d arrived, but she’d answered with an emphatic no. He tried again.

“Laurel, sweetheart, let’s wait inside by the stove,” he pleaded. “You must be frozen through.”

“No, I don’t want to miss them.”

“I doubt there’ll be any chance of that. I seem to remember a loud whistle and a clanging bell to announce the arrival.”

He found it incredible it’d really only been two months since he’d stood, almost in this very place, waiting for a woman he knew nothing about. A woman who he now felt he knew inside and out.

“Oh, look! There it is!”

The whistle sounded in the distance, gradually increasing in volume as the engine neared the station. The bell clanged as the engine slowed to a stop. When the steam subsided, Laurel was half-way down the platform looking for her family.

A feminine voice called out, “Laurel! Baby!”

Laurel stopped, swiveled, and saw her mother. She hurried back and squealed, “Mama!”

Hugging ensued and, after a couple of minutes, Griffin joined the group. He shook hands with his father-in-law, Peter Weidner, and graciously accepted a hug from his new mother-in-law, Adelaide.

“Sweetheart, take everyone over toward the buggy and wagons. I’ll see to their baggage and join you in a few minutes.”

“I’ll help you, son.” The older man joined him. “I’ll make sure everything is accounted for.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weidner.”

“It’s the least I can do if we’re going to invade your home.” Together, they walked to the baggage car. “And, Griffin?”

“Yes sir?”

“I believe we’ll get along better if you’ll call me Peter.”

***

Laurel awoke the next morning with a smile on her face. She couldn’t have been more pleased at how her two families were getting along. Adelaide and Gwenda hadn’t stuttered once in their conversations with each other. It was like they’d know each other for years, possibly because Gwenda was from Boston and had known Aunt Lottie, but they were in complete harmony.