No One's Bride (Escape to the West Book 1) (3 page)

Adam closed the door at the foot of the stairs and leaned back against it, running one hand down his face and groaning softly.

This morning he’d had a plan all worked out. He would meet Amy at the station, they would get married alongside the other new couples, he’d show her the post office, her bedroom, help her get settled, make her supper, they’d get to know each other. It wasn’t much of a plan and it certainly wasn’t going to sweep her off her feet, but it was something.

The station part had happened, but from that point on he’d felt completely overwhelmed.

Breathing out a long sigh, he pushed himself away from the door and went to the settee, dropping into it. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried to relax.

He liked to think he was a fairly calm person, most of the time. Well, some of the time. He ran his own business and had a job, he lived alone and took good care of himself and his home. He was a strong, steadfast man.

It was disturbing how many times he’d had to remind himself of that over the past hour.

It wasn’t that Amy had brought so little with her. He knew she’d been a kitchen girl in a big house in New York. He didn’t know what they were paid, but it apparently wasn’t much. That was probably why she was dressed as she was. But he didn’t mind. He wasn’t rich and he’d had to save for over a year to get the money for her train fare, but he would do everything he could to give her anything she needed.

It wasn’t even the fainting, although that had sent him into a temporary panic. Women didn’t faint in Green Hill Creek, apart from Missy Evans that one time in the street outside the post office, but she’d been eight months pregnant at the time and the day had been hot and humid. After she’d had a glass of cool water, she’d waved the doctor away and carried on with her day. Here, the women were as tough as the men. They had to be.

But perhaps it wasn’t the same in the east. Once, when Adam was eleven years old, he’d snuck away with one of his mother’s dime romance novels to the tree behind their house, climbing into the branches and reading the forbidden pages hidden amongst the leaves. The cover had a red haired woman in a long, pink, scandalously low-cut dress, fanning herself under the gaze of a tall, dashing, dark haired man in white breeches. What he read inside was decidedly less exciting than the cover and he’d become bored after only a few pages. But in those few pages, the heroine swooned twice. And her sister had also been overcome by ‘an attack of the vapours’. To this day he wasn’t sure what vapours were. He’d assumed it was all nonsense, but maybe there was a smidgeon of truth to it. Although, unlike the heroine in
Bostonian Hearts Aflame
, Adam was fairly sure Amy had
not
been overcome by his intense masculinity.

No, the thing that had thrown him the most about meeting Amy, apparently robbing him of most of his faculties, was that she was so
pretty
.

He was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but he’d had an idea that any woman who was willing to travel almost across the entire country to find a husband must have been somewhat... homely. He’d told himself it didn’t matter what Amy looked like. She’d seemed very nice, if a little unforthcoming, in her letters and that was what mattered, what was inside. Adam wasn’t superficial. He was determined to make a life with this woman who was prepared to come all this way for him. And after all the praying he’d been doing about it, he trusted God would bring him the right woman.

But standing on that platform, seeing each of the not at all homely women being introduced to their prospective husbands, he’d had to readjust his ideas. And then
she’d
stepped forward. Amy Watts. With blonde hair the colour of a sunset, filling him with the most distracting thoughts of running his fingers through the silky tresses, and deep blue eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul, and a smile that had sucked every intelligent thought from his head. At first, he’d barely been able to speak.

More than that, she was funny and smart.

He’d dreamed for so long of finding the woman God had in store for him, and although Adam trusted that He would bring the perfect wife for him it was still nerve-wracking to finally meet her. Now he had, he was even more apprehensive. What if she didn’t like him? What if she didn’t like his home? He’d done his best, trying to make it how he thought a woman would like, and he’d scrubbed every inch of every room in the past couple of days, but maybe that wasn’t enough. Now he’d met Amy, he very much wanted her to be happy here, with him.

If he could just stop sounding like he only had half a brain, that would be a good start to making that happen.

He glanced back at the door to the stairs and then closed his eyes. “Father,” he whispered, “thank You for bringing Amy here. She’s...” a smile crept onto his face, “incredible. Forgive me for doubting that she would be. I know You have things in hand, which is good because I feel like I haven’t got any idea what I’m doing. And thank You that she’s so pretty. It wasn’t essential, but I sure do appreciate it. In the Name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Feeling a little better, if not much more relaxed, he stood and went to light the small stove he used for cooking and warmth. First he’d make them supper, then he’d go back to worrying if Amy liked it here. Liked him.

With the stove warming, he fetched plates from the dresser to take to the table. A knock at the back door almost made him drop them. Rolling his eyes at his jumpiness, he put down the plates and went to the door leading into the back yard.

Mrs Goodwin smiled at him when he opened the door. “Adam, I’m real sorry to disturb you on your first evening as a married man. I know you and your bride must be busy getting to know each other... Oh, and there she is now.”

The short, round woman with white hair pulled into a bun and a covered serving dish in her hands stopped in the process of bustling through the door to look past him. Adam turned to see Amy walking into the room. His breath hitched. She didn’t actually look any different, and yet she seemed to have got even prettier. How was that even possible?

Mrs Goodwin looked her up and down. Amy hadn’t changed from her trousers and shirt and the older woman seemed taken aback for a moment.

Adam smiled at Amy, trying to convey an apology with his eyes. “Mrs Goodwin, please let me take that from you.” He reached out to remove the serving dish from her unresisting hands. “Miss Watts, this is Mrs Goodwin. Mrs Goodwin, meet Miss Watts.”

Mrs Goodwin snapped out of her surprise and, rallying, put on a smile. “It’s lovely to meet you Miss...” She frowned. “Wait, shouldn’t that be Mrs Emerson?”

Adam winced internally. He’d hoped there wouldn’t be any need for explanations.

Amy hurried forward and shook Mrs Goodwin’s right hand which, along with her left, was extended in front of her as if she was still holding the dish.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Goodwin,” she said. “Mr Emerson and I didn’t get married today. I was tired out from the journey and on the way to the church I had a spell of fainting. It was decided it would be best if the wedding was postponed so I could rest.” She gave a smile that would surely charm Mrs Goodwin, if the effect it had on Adam was anything to go by.

At the mention of fainting Mrs Goodwin became the soul of distress. “Oh, you poor girl. Yes, of course, you must rest. But...” She glanced at Adam who was setting the dish down onto the table. “That means the two of you will be spending the night in the same house, unwed...”

“Miss Watts and I will be sleeping in separate bedrooms,” Adam said, giving his voice a hint of firmness. “And we will be married tomorrow. I promise you, Mrs Goodwin, there will be no impropriety. But I’m sure you wouldn’t think otherwise, knowing me as you do.”

Mrs Goodwin breathed out. “Yes, of course.” She smiled. “Of course.”

Amy walked to the table and lifted the cloth on the serving dish. A smell wafted out that made Adam’s mouth water.

“Is this for us?” she said. “It smells delicious.”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be cooking, this being your first night together.” The colour drained from Mrs Goodwin’s face. “I mean, I didn’t mean...”

Adam had to clamp his teeth together to stop the laugh bubbling up inside him. “Relax, Mrs Goodwin, we know what you mean.”

She gave a small laugh. “Mr Goodwin always says I only visit a place twice, and the second time is to say how sorry I am about the first time. Anyway, that there is beef stew and dumplings. I’m taking the same to each couple, so I’d best get going before the others get cold. The two of you have a restful evening and you feel better soon, Miss Watts.”

She took Amy’s hand and patted it, little wrinkles forming around her pale blue eyes.

“Thank you, Mrs Goodwin,” Amy said with another smile that sent shivers up Adam’s spine.

Mrs Goodwin nodded and turned to bustle out. In all the years he’d known her, which was just about his entire life, Adam had never seen Mrs Goodwin walk in anything other than a bustle.

Out in the road that ran behind the back yard Mr Goodwin waited in a buggy with the reins in one hand and a pipe in the other. He raised the pipe to Adam. Adam nodded back and closed the door, relieved Mrs Goodwin had left without any further discussion on the unchaperoned night he and Amy would be spending in the house.

“I was about to start supper, but Mrs G does make the best beef stew in the whole town, maybe the whole state. So if you have no objections maybe we can postpone your discovery of my mediocre cooking until
after
we’re married.”

“I’m sure your cooking is easily the match of mine,” Amy said, lifting the cloth over the stew again and taking a deep breath, “but this may be the nicest thing I’ve ever smelled.”

Adam walked over to her, placing two dishes onto the table beside the bowl. “Wait until you taste it. Have a seat.”

He indicated one of the four chairs at the small table and she sat as he brought cutlery and napkins and glasses of water.

“Mrs G sometimes brings me food, what with me being single,” he said as he walked back and forth. “I think she has an idea men starve without a woman to cook for them.” He set two plates of thick sliced bread along with a plate of butter onto the table, then sat opposite Amy. “I must admit, I haven’t done anything to fix that notion. She is a
very
good cook.”

He reached both arms towards her and smiled. Amy stared at his hands lying open on the table, a confused expression on her face as if she didn’t know what they were for.

The smile melted from Adam’s face. “Oh, I didn’t... we just have a habit around here of holding hands for the blessing.” He slid his arms back awkwardly and folded them in his lap. “I didn’t think. You probably have different customs back in New York.”

She smiled slightly. “This isn’t New York.”

Adam’s stomach did a little flip. Hoping he wasn’t misunderstanding her words, he reached his hands out again. When she slipped her hands into them, his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes, willing his voice to be steady. “Dear Father, thank You for this food You have provided. Thank You for Mrs Goodwin and her kindness, and please bless and keep her and Mr G safe as they deliver the rest of the meals.” He paused. “And thank You for answering my prayers and bringing Amy here. In the Name of Jesus, Your Son, amen.”

“Amen,” Amy whispered.

Reluctantly, he let go of her hands and removed the cloth from over Mrs Goodwin’s stew, releasing the full force of the aroma. Steam curled up from the dish of moist beef, vegetables and gravy, and plump, white dumplings. Adam took a deep breath in. He loved Mrs Goodwin’s cooking so much he’d often thought that if Mr Goodwin hadn’t been around he’d have asked the woman who was more than twice his age to marry him himself.

“That looks wonderful,” Amy breathed. Her stomach rumbled and she pressed one hand to it, blushing. “Pardon me.”

Adam smiled as he loaded the two plates with food. “I’m sorry, I should have given you something when you arrived.”

She shook her head. “I’m glad I’m hungry. It means I’ll have more room for this stew.”

“That is very wise of you.” He placed the loaded plate in front of her and picked up his knife and fork, waiting for her to start before he took his first bite.

She cut a lump of beef and a piece of dumpling and ate her first mouthful, closing her eyes and murmuring, “Mmmm,” as she chewed.

She opened her eyes and Adam quickly dropped his gaze to his own plate, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.

“How was your journey?” he said, spearing a chunk of potato with his fork.

“I never imagined how tiring sitting down could be. I kind of feel like I’m still on the train, like everything’s moving a little, and my ears are humming. But it was amazing. I’ve never been outside New York before.” Her face lit up as she spoke, looking out the window as she remembered. “I didn’t know how different it was beyond the city. There was so much to see. Even when it got dark the stars and the moon were so beautiful. I hated going to sleep each night in case I missed something. One day we passed a whole herd of buffalo, just grazing next to the tracks.” She smiled. “I didn’t know what they were, but Sara had seen pictures. That was when we were in the plains. We went past mountains and over huge rivers and through forests that went on for miles and miles. We stopped once near an Indian settlement and some of the women came to the train to sell things they made. I’d never seen an Indian before. They looked so beautiful with their embroidered dresses and jewellery.”