Montana Bound: A Sweet Mail Order Bride Historical (Mail Order Bride Journeys Book 2) (2 page)

Inside, Grace was surprised to discover that the small house was roomier inside than it had appeared that it would be. The kitchen and living room combined into one large room with a tall ceiling, causing the space to feel much larger than it actually was.

A narrow hallway, almost perfectly centered on the wall opposite of where Grace stood, led to two doors across from each other leading to what Grace assumed were the bedrooms, and it ended at a third door, that clearly led outside.

To the right of the hallway, a few feet from the large wood-stove, a sturdy ladder led to a loft that overlooked the kitchen. A small railing added a decorative touch along the top of the wall, serving also the purpose of securing the occupants of the loft from falling onto the floor beneath.

Constance walked across the floor and picked up a couple small split logs that lay on the floor beside the cook-stove, and placed them inside its reservoir.

“Would you be so kind as to bring in a small stack of logs for the stove, while I get this thing lit?” Constance asked. “There is a pile located against the house through the door at the end of the hallway.”

“Yes, of course.” Grace responded, eager to be as helpful to her benefactor as she could be.

She found the stack of logs and selected a few to take back in with her, after carefully checking each of them for spiders. Grace deplored spiders, even though she knew that her fear of them was largely exaggerated because of a bite she received as a child while playing with one. Not finding any on the logs, she returned to find the fire already lit and Constance placing a pot of water on the stove to heat. She placed the small stack of firewood in the metal basket that sat empty beside the cook-stove.

Constance showed Grace the rest of the small house.

“I’ll ask my brother to move his stuff to the loft as soon as he gets in.” Constance said. “This will be your room while you are staying with us.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask it of him.” Grace protested, but inwardly was happy that she would have private accommodations in the house.

“No, I insist. And he won’t mind. He will be perfectly comfortable in the loft.” Constance insisted.

Constance impressed Grace as a woman that not only was used to getting her way, but also expected it.

“Would you mind helping me cut up some vegetables? I’d like to have dinner ready before my brother comes in, and I’m getting a late start.” Constance asked, as she held a basket with some tomatoes in it in her hand, extended toward Grace. “We’ll make a stew and serve it with leftover bread.”

Grace joined Constance in the kitchen, and the two women made quick progress cutting up all the vegetables. Constance threw them into a pot, filled with water, that she had already started heating up on the cookstove.

The aroma of the stew cooking filled the air, and Grace realized for the first time how hungry she had become. She was so grateful for having run into Constance.
What would I do without her?

CHAPTER 2

Owen stretched his arms high above his head, and twisted his back first one direction and then the other, trying to relieve the tension that he felt in his lower back. The effort did little to get rid of the ache in his muscles. His hands were blistered, and he was exhausted. Carrying bundles of hay into the barn loft by hand, was not an easy task, but it had to be done.

Finally finished, he was eager to sit down to the hot meal that Constance was sure to have waiting for him when he came in. The brother and sister had settled into a steady routine over the previous couple of years, since her husband had passed, and the one thing that he appreciated more than any other was that he could always depend on her having something good for him to eat when he would come in as the sun began to set.

He could smell the stew as he stepped onto the porch, and approached the front door.

He opened the door, and stepping inside, his foot collided solidly into something, stopping it in midair. He stumbled forward roughly, barely keeping his feet under himself.

Owen looked back toward the doorway, annoyed, to see what he had nearly tripped over. His eyes quickly sett

“What the—?” Owen looked back toward the doorway, annoyed, to see what he had/ nearly tripped over. His eyes quickly settled on the rose printed bag on the floor next to the door. “What is this?”

As he stared at the bag, it dawned on him that it was a bag that he had never seen before, and it was obvious that it belonged to woman.
Could it be? Did she come here to surprise me?!!

In an instant, he forgot all about his tired, aching body, his hunger, everything. He quickly scanned the room searching. Searching for—.

“It’s a bag, Owen.” Constance answered matter of factually, interrupting his thoughts. Owen looked up at his sister, who, facing away from him, spoke again. “Please excuse my brother, he isn’t always so poorly mannered.”

Owen turned his head in the direction that his sister was looking in, and felt his heart sink. It wasn’t her.

His eyes had settled on a strange woman, standing in the kitchen across from his sister. He had not noticed her before. For a few long moments, nothing was said as his mind worked to clear his confusion.

“Well, don’t just stand there, come over here so that you can meet our guest.” Constance said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Um—yes. Of course.” Owen kicked off his boots and placed them outside the front door on the porch, and then shut the door, which had been left open the entire time. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”

Constance waited until he approached closer to the women. “This is Miss Grace Russell. She is in need of a place to stay for a while, and I’ve offered to let her stay here. That’s her things that you nearly crushed when you walked in.”

“Pleased to meet you Miss Russell. I’m Owen Miller, Constance's brother.” He said as he extended his hand and briefly shook hers. “I didn’t realize that anyone was here.”

“Yes, you’ve already said that.” Grace smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller.”

“You’ll need to take Grace’s bag to your room, and move your stuff to the loft.” Constance interjected. “We’ll finish up dinner while you do.”

“What do you mean, dinner’s not done?” Owen asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation. Then adding as if he just realized what his sister had said to him, “And what in tarnation do you mean that I need to move my things to the loft?”

“Well, surely you don’t expect our guest to have to climb that ladder in her skirts every day do you?” Constance answered with a scow.

Owen looked toward the Grace, who was obviously growing uncomfortable as the tension between brother and sister grew.

“I need to talk to you outside Constance.” Owen turned and stomped off toward the door, not waiting for his sister to reply.

A moment later, Constance walked through the door and joined him on the porch, shutting the door behind her as she did.

“What is the problem?” She demanded.

“What do you mean that I have to move to the loft? And who is that woman?” Owen demanded, gesturing toward the house. “This better not be another one of your attempts to make me forget about Nina.”

“Of course not! But you would do yourself a favor to forget her.” Constance answered. “There is a reason that you have not heard anything from her in over two months, and you’d be better off if you would just face up to it.”

“I knew it! This is another one of your games!” Owen was incensed.
How dare her try to manipulate me this way!

“Owen, get a grip.” Constance said, her growing irritation evident in the glare she emphasized her words with. “This woman has nowhere to go, and needs our help. I can explain later, but believe me when I tell you that her being here is not about you!”

“Fine, but I don’t like it.” Owen said, still irritated with the situation, still not sure if he could fully trust his sister. “You’ve been trying to convince me for a while now that Nina has moved on. I just think that it’s very suspicious that you invited this woman to move in with us.”

Constance crossed her arms across her chest, and began tapping her foot in that was that reminded Owen of their mother she would scold him. Coming from Constance though, it was very patronizing, and always caused his blood to boil.

“Owen. Do you seriously think I’d resort to moving a woman into our home to seduce you to stay? Geez!” Constance responded, her annoyance with Owen’s accusation very obvious. “I only want what is best for you. You can’t see what’s right before your eyes. Yet, if it takes you returning to Richland and having your heart broke for you to move on, then I won’t stand in your way.”

“Well I don’t want her here!” Owen said, lowering his voice to an angry whisper. “You need to get rid of her tomorrow.”

His sister was not swayed. “It’s my house, and she can stay as long as she needs to get her feet comfortably under herself. And you will treat her nicely. Now go inside and move your things to the loft.”

Owen’s face grew red with rage, but he said nothing. He immediately walked back into the house, Constance quickly at his heals.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Constance apologized, clearly aware that she had pushed her brother’s buttons by what she had said. “But surely you don’t expect a lady to sleep in the loft, do you?”

Owen stopped, and gave Grace a hard stare. Then said dismissive wave of his hand, “I guess not.”

With that Owen spun on his heels and retrieved Grace’s bag and took it to his room, dropping it heavily on the floor next to the dresser.

***

Grace was grateful that she didn’t have anything fragile in her bag.

She listened as the linens were pulled roughly from the bed, and she could tell by the sounds that Owen was gathering his stuff to move them to the loft.

Owen’s reaction was completely unexpected by Grace, and she did not know how she felt about the man. On one hand, his behavior and mood were very off-putting, but there was a softness behind his eyes that she noticed as he had stared angrily at her before stomping off to his room.

“Again, please excuse my brother. I realized he was not in a good mood when he came in, and I should not have goaded him on like that I did on the porch.” Constance’s words interrupted Grace’s thoughts. Before Grace had the chance to respond she heard Owen emerging from the room.

Turning toward him, it was all she could do not to laugh at the sight before her. Owen had thrown a pile of his things onto the sheet from the bed, then wrapped them up in it and slung it over his shoulder. It barely fit through the doorway as he exited the room.

“I have one more pile to take out, then the rooms all yours.” He said in a voice that was not unkind, but without looking directly at Grace. Then his voice again changing to an irritated tone, he addressed his sister. “I work hard for you to keep this place. Is it really too much to ask that I have a hot meal waiting for me when I come in from working all day?”

“I’m sorry Owen. You asked me to stop by the train station to see if the tools you ordered through the Sears catalog had arrived yet.” Constance sounded much more sympathetic as she answered her brother, obviously an effort to diffuse the situation. “I ended up getting back later than I thought.”

Remembering the tools, Owen perked up a bit. “Oh right! Did you pick them up?”

“No, sorry. They weren’t in yet.” Constance admitted.

“Figures.” Owen mumbled under his breath, and then proceeded to climb the ladder with the big pile of his things slung over his shoulder.

Grace was surprised that he was able to make it to the top without spilling anything, it all looked so awkward. Yet he did and soon enough he was descending the ladder again and retrieving another pile of belongings, this time wrapped up in a blanket. Not a word passed between the brother and sister, which didn’t make Grace any more comfortable with the situation.

***

September 19, 1896

Owen crawled out of bed shortly before sun rise. Not feeling in the mood for company, he had taken his dinner and excused himself to eat it in bed, saying that he needed to get up early and was exhausted. Now having sobered up from his bad mood the night before, he felt embarrassed by his behavior.

What did she say her name was?
Owen thought as he slipped his trousers up, and sat back down on his bunk so he could pull on a pair of clean socks.
Oh, yeah.
Grace. Grace Russell. Sure is a beautiful name.
He thought to himself, aware that it was not just the name that he thought was beautiful.

He tried not to think of how she took his breath away as she stood there grinning at him when he first laid eyes on her. Immediately her deep blue eyes had captured him, and he felt lost in them. Her light brown hair fell in long, soft curls over her shoulders and down her back. He had tried not to notice, but her delicate, curvy figure could not be ignored. She was quite a beautiful woman.

What is my sister trying to do to me, anyway? She knows I am engaged.
He thought. For four years, four long years, he had remained steadfast in his determination to keep his word to Miss Nina Carlisle. He had been only 15 when he made the promise to her to return for her, but he intended to make good on it. They were his parting words to her just before departing for Montana with his newly married sister and her husband. He never made promises lightly, having taken his mother’s words to heart as a young boy…“A man’s word is his contract.”

Owen descended the ladder as quietly as he could, and crept across the floor toward the front door. He eased the door open, careful not to make any noise with it, and then shut it with only a quiet click of the latch. His boots remained next to the door where he had placed them the night before, and he gave them a quick shake, in case any critters had crawled into them, before he slid his feet into them.

Dew glistened on the blades of grass, and gathered on Owen’s boots as he treaded across the hay field, which would double a second pasture now that the harvest was complete, once Owen had completed some fence repairs. The animals would be grateful to be turned loose in the field, which was larger than the one in which they were currently turned loose in, and was not eaten down the way the other pasture was.

This was Owen’s favorite time of the day, a time when he felt most grounded and most connected to the world around him. The cheerful songs of the birds, the cool morning breeze offset slightly by the gentle warming of the rising sun, and the sight of squirrels and rabbits, already scurrying about in search of food, never failed to help him to collect his thoughts.

He hurried through his assessment of the fence-line of the pasture, and determined what he would need to bring with him later when he returned to finish the job. He put hay out for the cow and the horses, and tossed some corn in to the chickens. Though Constance usually milked the cow and gathered eggs after breakfast, he felt that fresh milk would be a nice treat for both women and himself to indulge in. Grabbing a bucket and a stool, he set to work and soon after headed back toward the house feeling proud of himself.

Owen could smell the scent of breakfast cooking coming through an open kitchen window, which one of the women had obviously opened after getting up. As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of both of their voices, and again began to feel self-conscience of his behavior the night before.
Will she hate me after how rude I acted?
He wondered to himself. He tried to push the thought from his head, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Grace’s fought that he had a bad day, and she certainly didn’t deserve to be made to feel uncomfortable as a guest in his home. He would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try to make it right.

Owen used the side of the step to kick some mud from his boots, and then ascended the stairs toward the front door. He removed them outside and again placed them next to the front door. They were damp from the morning dew, and his sister would kill him if he trekked water across the floor.

He opened the door and immediately the enticing smell of the flapjacks cooking on the stove caught his attention. He shut the door behind him and set the boots on a tray beside the door.