Patience: Bride of Washington (American Mail Order Bride 42) (6 page)

He moved his hands away from his face and stared at her. “Are you serious? You made that?”

She smoothed a hand over the waist. “I come from a family with limited income. My father is a teacher. Even though he’s the head teacher for the school, he doesn’t make much.”

“He has a talented daughter. That’s probably important to him. That and the fact you left home and he doesn’t have to put up with you now.”

She attempted to glare at him. “You’re funny, Sonny. Really funny.”

Instead of getting mad, he laughed.

They moved on to other quilts and then to oil paintings and watercolors. People they passed glared and whispered as they walked by but Patience had no idea why. By the tightness of Stone’s jaw, she knew he saw them and it bothered him.

Sympathy surged through her for the man with whom she’d spent so much time lately, Patience sought to distract him from the condemning looks. She stopped in front of the most beautiful painting she’d ever seen and gasped. “Look at that. The sunrise over an orchard with the snowy peaks in the background is glorious. Did you ever see anything so beautiful?”

He said softly, “Every morning.”

She leaned closer to look at the signature then straightened to face him. “You painted this? My stars, but you’re talented. I saw he crate label you designed, but I had no idea you could paint with such talent too.”

He shrugged as if his ability was unimportant. “Just a hobby. By the way, I didn’t enter my work, Dad did. I gave him the painting this year for his birthday to hang in his office. He’s aware I’d never put it in a contest.”

“Why not? You shouldn’t hide your talent under a basket—or an apple crate in your case.”

His expression was inscrutable and his eyes hooded. “My reasons are my own. For one thing, I don’t like to call attention to myself. You may have noticed by the scowls and whispers that I’m not popular around here.” He glanced at a couple who still glared at him.

She nodded and took his arm. “I
almost
heard rumors, but wouldn’t listen. You want to explain?”

Stone tugged at his ear. “No, but I suppose I’d better give my version before you hear others’.” He steered her to a bench at one side and they were seated. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “There was this woman named Lottie Ames. I had been seeing her several weeks, but quit because she…um, shared her favors. I hadn’t been out with her for over a year when she came to me one day and told me she was carrying my baby. I knew that was a lie and refused to marry her.”

“I should hope so.”

He leaned back and stared at the tent’s ceiling. “But she told others in town that I was the father and that I refused to stand by her and do my duty.”

“How awful for you and how devious of her. What did you do?”

He shrugged. “Deny the charge, of course, but no one listened. They remembered I’d spent time with her and had no way of knowing I’d broken off the relationship over a year before. Then, she left a note saying that she couldn’t face raising a baby alone and she leapt from the bridge, killing herself and the unborn child.”

She brought her hand to her throat. “Oh, no. And you were blamed. I’m so sorry, Stone. Life must have changed drastically for you.”

His face grim, moisture welled in his eyes. “In days I went from happy with plenty of friends to being a person barely tolerated. A couple of my long-time male friends, Ralph Larsen and Tom Mercer, believed me innocent but no decent woman in town would speak to me after that. People always believe the worst.” He shrugged again. “Since then, I’ve avoided contact with people in town. Life is easier that way.”

No wonder he preferred working in the office to joining friends for a drink. “Thank you for even coming today. I’m sorry if you’re reminded of a bad situation over which you had no control.”

He shook his head and rested his arms on his thighs. “To this day, I can’t think why she’d say those things. If she’d just told the truth and asked me for help, I’d have given her money to go somewhere until the baby came, maybe found a job for her afterward somewhere else.”

“She probably wanted to hurt the father for abandoning her by making him think he had competition. Although she hurt you, she probably had in mind causing him pain. Obviously she wasn’t sane by then.”

He straightened. “I never considered that. Not that it repairs my reputation, but you’ve given me a possible explanation and that helps.”

She tugged on his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s not talk of sad things. Take me to the rides and games and let’s be happy. I want to go on the carousel.”

Reluctantly, he let her coerce him. “As good a way to get nowhere as any.”

After two rides on the carousel, they walked down the rows of games and vendors. Stone was exceptionally good at the games. Not surprisingly, she wasn’t. Patience washed her hands at a fountain and dried them with her handkerchief.

Later, they waited at the back of the food tent for the winning contestants’ names. Outside a banjo and fiddle kept pace with a woman enthusiastically singing “The Daring Young Man On The Flying Trapeze”.

“I’m so full of cotton candy and taffy that the baked goods don’t even appeal to me.”

Stone patted his stomach. “I could go for a piece of Aunt Marianne’s apple pie. She’s not really my aunt, but was my mother’s best friend. She’s a widow and her name’s Marianne Hauser.”

After the categories were read off and ribbons presented, Andrew joined them. “Did you find plenty to keep you busy?”

Patience rattled off all they’d done and how much they’d eaten. “Stone thinks he could still eat a slice of Marianne Hauser’s pie but I can’t imagine how he could find the room.”

Andrew held her elbow and guided her around a group of people. “She’s a wonderful cook, which is why she won the pie category. Mrs. Shaw’s winning apple cake was delicious and I wouldn’t mind another slice.” He shook his head. “But not right now, not after tasting so many sweets.”

Under his breath, Stone mumbled, “Bet Aunt Marianne would like to remarry.”

After a puzzled glance at him, she wondered why he didn’t speak loud enough for his father to hear. She turned toward Andrew on her other side. “Does every entry have to contain apples?”

Andrew nodded. “Yes, although they can include other fruits as well. Destiny is home to some excellent cooks. Unfortunately, a few bad cooks also enter.”

Stone chuckled. “Mrs. Gates got to you again?”

Andrew put a hand on his stomach. “I have no idea what that woman does to a recipe to achieve a different result from all the others.”

Stone clapped his father on the back. “At least she’s consistent, Dad. Maybe that’s why she’s a widow.”

Andrew grimaced. “I always suspected her husband ran away. Probably living up in the mountains somewhere.”

Patience laughed. “I’m sorry to make light of your suffering, but I want to meet this woman. Does her personality match her cooking?”

Stone shot her a glance. “Worse. She’s one of the biggest gossips in town.”

Patience met his gaze. “Humph. More than Virginia Winfield and her mother?”

Stone sobered. “Oh, you’ve met this year’s Apple Blossom Queen? Delightful little snob, isn’t she?”

Patience thought the young woman she met would feel entitled to wear the crown. “And Mrs. Winfield. They pursued me from the post office to the mercantile to try and fill me in on your family. I excused myself and returned to the boarding house.”

Andrew’s face furrowed and his steps quickened. “If that doesn’t make me want to give those two a piece of my mind. People should mind their own damn business. Oh, pardon me, Patience.”

“Justified, Andrew. Those two made me think of vipers. I certainly gave them no time to spread their poison.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

Hoping to change the subject, she held up a small bag of taffy. “Never let it be said we ate everything in sight with no thought of others. I saved this for you.”

Andrew broke into a smile. “Why thank you. I hope you won’t be offended if I wait until tomorrow to eat these. I positively cannot swallow another sweet today.”

Chapter Six

Patience spent a busy Sunday attending church with the other boarders, followed by lunch and doing her laundry. Then, she readied for work on the next day.

After rising early on Monday, she walked to the post office to see if she had received mail. She worried because she hadn’t heard from Mercy.

Her brisk walk put her at the building as the postmaster unlocked the front door. “Good morning, Miss Eaton. You’re out and about early today.”

“Good morning, Mr. Hammond. Do I have any mail?”

He checked a set of pigeon holes behind him. “Here’s one for you.”

Spotting Mercy’s familiar handwriting, she thanked him and hurried back to the boarding house. As soon as she was in the parlor, she sat down and opened the envelope.

My Dearest Patience,

I trust you have arrived and have found the man of your dreams to be your groom. I miss you so much and fervently wish Papa would have found grooms who lived much closer to each other. Washington State seems so far away. Have you heard from Mama and Papa?

I am happy here, although a bit confused. Mr. Fairchild informed me that he brought me out here to win one of his two great-nephews. Both are handsome but one, Quill, is devastatingly so. He, however, has no interest in me whatsoever—nor does the other, Harper.

But there are some interesting people here, one being Jake Lawrence. Jake is a woman, actually, and owns her own ranch! Really! She has advised me to start my own business, which a woman can do here, because Jake is of the opinion that no female should be reliant upon a husband to provide for her. After all, what if the husband died? Then what? It all sounds perfectly logical to me.

Also, I’ve learned how to do leatherwork this week, which I quite enjoy. That, along with my sewing skills, would serve well in a millinery shop or even a leather shop. If matters are not to your liking in Washington, you’re welcome to become my partner in this enterprise. Whether a marriage with Quill (I hope!) or Harper works out or not, I’m bound and determined to start this business. The door is ever open to you.

Quill, handsome as he is, and I’ve never laid eyes on a better looking man in my life, can be quite surly and confusing. First he’s kind then he’s standoffish. Maybe he’ll come around, I don’t know. Harper is my age and not the least bit interested in marriage. I agree that for a man, he’s too young. Quill, though... my heart pita-pats just thinking about him. We’ll see if that works out.

Meantime, Jake has advised me of appropriate clothing to wear on the roundup. No, Quill doesn’t want me to go, but Ike has plans. We’ll wait for them all to leave, then Ike and I will follow. It will likely make Quill mad at first but he’ll see how useful I can be, even in the most rustic of circumstances.

My rooms (I have two—a bedroom and a sitting room!) are as large as our whole house back home, and quite well decorated and furnished. I’m very comfortable, so please don’t worry about me. With a plan to start my business and another plan to catch Quill (because really, I’m not interested in Harper even if he were interested in me), I’ll be quite busy for a few weeks, but you’re always welcome to stay in my rooms even if I’m not back yet. I do miss our home and family, but I love Idaho.

Please write to me soon and tell me all about your groom and the town of Destiny. I miss you so much!

Your Loving Sister

Mercy

Patience rose and went to wait on the porch. She chose the swing and re-read her sister’s letter. Imagine being brought to Idaho to marry someone other than Mr. Fairchild. What an odd situation, yet Mercy sounded as if she was coping quite well. Patience pondered her own circumstances.

Although still not exactly friends with Stone, she believed she had overcome his overwhelming disapproval. She hated the idea of living in disharmony for the rest of her life.

The rest of her life.

The phrase gave her pause and she brought her hand to her cheek. What was she going to do? As she waited on the front porch for Andrew to call for her, she fought the urge to go back upstairs, crawl into bed, and pull the covers over her head. She simply must come to terms with marrying Andrew, even though he was more fatherly than swain.

In the time she’d been in Destiny, she hadn’t developed more tender feelings for him even though she liked him. Still, the image of marital relation with him set her stomach roiling. With a sigh, she fought to reconcile herself to becoming his wife.

On the drive, she revealed details of her sister’s plight. “I am simply astounded that a man would pretend he’d sent for himself a bride when he intended her for his grandnephew. Have you ever heard anything stranger?”

Andrew gave her an odd smile. “I’m sure he had everyone’s best interest at heart.”

Once they arrived at the orchard office, she was ready to begin work and took a seat at the desk. A woman came in wearing an apron over a brown dress. The woman sopped in her tracks as if surprised to see Patience.

“I’m Mrs. Belvedere. I come in every Monday.”

“I hope you’ll do a thorough cleaning this time. There were a lot of dirt and cobwebs when I started working here last week.”

“Are you saying I didn’t do a good job? I’m insulted.” She put her hands on her hips and glared. “Who are you to be telling me how to do my duties here?”

Patience met her glare. “I’m Mr. Kincaid’s fiancée and I’ll be working here now. I expect the place to be spotless.”

The woman paled before opening the storage closet. She made a production of pulling out supplies and set to cleaning immediately. Although sullen, she did a proper job this time.

After she’d gone, Andrew came out of his office and tapped on Stone’s door frame. “I’ve had a wonderful idea. I want Patience to accompany us to Tacoma. She’ll be an asset as well as learn more about our business.”

Stone called, “Dad? You’re not thinking clearly. Have a care for her reputation.” He came to his door. “Can you imagine what people will think of a single woman traveling with two men for several nights?”

Andrew smoothed his mustache with his forefinger. “Of course, I should have thought of that. I’ll ask Marianne to come as Patience’s chaperone. We’ll leave a week from Thursday.”

Stone put his hands on his hips. “You don’t even know if Aunt Marianne will agree. Shouldn’t you check with her before you make plans involving her?”

“Quite right. Patience, I also should have asked you before presuming you’d go with us. I hope you’ll agree, my dear.”

“If there’s a chaperone then I suppose I can.” She hesitated to ask but had to know. “I only have the clothes you’ve seen. What sort of meetings would I attend and what do the women wear?”

“There’ll be two receptions and one formal dinner plus the meetings.” Andrew paused. “I’ll ask Marianne to take you shopping—at my expense, of course.”

She shook her head. “No, Andrew. I haven’t the money and I can’t let you pay for my clothing. That wouldn’t be proper.”

Andrew appeared taken aback. “Of course it’s proper. In three weeks you’ll be Patience Kincaid and will need to dress to fit that title. Marianne will guide you to see you’re in style for each event. Her late husband was in the business, so she’s attended many of these meetings.”

Stone wore an inscrutable expression. Although he was silent, she imagined he was thinking plenty. She gazed at him hoping for a sign of what he thought of the idea now that Andrew had improvised but he gave no indication one way or the other.

She clasped her hands on the desk. “When you put it that way, I suppose I can accept your generous offer. Surely doing so won’t cause too much gossip.”

Stone met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Avoid the ladies Gates, Hammond, and Winfield and you’ll be fine.” Stoically, he strolled into his office.

Andrew rubbed his hands together. “I’ll just go talk to Marianne and see if she’ll agree to act as chaperone and take you shopping. I can’t imagine she’ll say no.”

He left and Patience went to work. Events were snowballing and she was no nearer to a solution to her problem. Why did she think she’d be able to marry a stranger?

She admired Andrew and all he’d accomplished, but she didn’t want to marry him. She’d given her word, though. An Eaton didn’t go back on a promise—not even if she found Andrew’s son so attractive he set her heart pounding.

Forcing herself to concentrate on her job, she was studying a bill when one of the workmen entered.

The man was tall and lean with the tanned complexion of one who worked outdoors. He appeared to be angry. “Boss, I’ve a request from the men and we want an answer from ye.”

Stone came into the room. “What’s wrong, Callahan? You look fit to do battle.”

“Aye, ’tis true. The wood for the crates from the last order is not finished. Even wearing gloves we get splinters in our clothes and arms.”

“But we’ve a lot of that crate material left, man. What do you expect me to do with the remainder?”

Callahan’s face grew red with anger and he sent Patience a glance before he looked at Stone. “I’d tell ye what you can do with then, man, but not with a lady present. We expect a solution before the apples are ripe.”

Stone protested, “Dad ordered them from a respected vendor. They can’t be as bad as all that.”

Patience didn’t want to exceed her position, but she remembered what Andrew had said about Stone not managing people well in spite of his excellent business sense.

She stood and walked over to the men. “Mr. Callahan, I’m sure neither Mr. Kincaid nor his father wants workmen forced to use inferior supplies. Why don’t you show me what you mean? Perhaps we can find a solution.”

Stone stared as if she’d suddenly grown two heads.

Callahan eyed her suspiciously. “Ye’d have to come to the packing shed.”

“Of course. Shall we go?” She gestured toward the door.

The three of then went to the packing shed where she’d seen the new crate labels. She hadn’t really looked at the containers, being preoccupied with the labels. In the large barn-like shed, Callahan stopped and picked up what looked like the side panel for an apple crate.

“Ye can see ’tis rough and ’tis too thin. Last year at times, the sides split with the weight o’ the apples and caused damaged fruit or the delay o’ gathering them up again.”

Stone picked up the thin piece of light-colored wood and flexed it in his hand. “This is half the thickness we need. Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

Callahan crossed his arms. “I spoke to your father but he dismissed my complaint by saying ’twas too late to change them. The men and I wanted to be sure we didn’t have to deal with the likes o’ these again this year.”

Stone set the panel back on a table and rubbed at his palm. “I’ll check the providers and make sure we never use this one again and I’ll be sure better wood is delivered as soon as possible.”

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to the accounts for the payroll.”

She strolled back to the office, enjoying the fragrance on the air. Soon the blossom petals would all have fallen, but the trees would be greener and filled out more than now. A light breeze cooled the sun’s rays with a clear blue sky overhead. Wedding aside, she admitted Destiny was a lovely place to live.

She resumed work on the time sheets. A few minutes later, Stone entered.

He stopped at her desk. “Thank you for the idea of going to see the crate materials in question. I should have checked that better. Don’t know why Dad changed suppliers, but I imagine he got a better price and didn’t realize why.”

He went to a file cabinet and pulled out a folder. “Good thing Callahan spoke up. I’ll be ordering the materials for harvest this week.” He went into his office.

Thirty minutes later, he showed up at her desk. “You have anything like a needle or tweezers in your desk?”

“I have a tiny sewing kit.” She opened the lower right drawer and removed her purse. Inside she carried a small case containing a couple of needles, scissors, and thread for emergency repairs.

He opened his palm to display several slivers. “All Callahan needed to do to make his case was have me touch the blasted wood. I pulled out a couple of these with my fingers but the rest are too small.”

Patience found the needle and took his large hand in hers. Touching his skin sent tingles through her and warmth rushing to her middle. Pretend you’re holding Papa’s hand. Her mind insisted... but her body refused.

“These splinters are large enough to hurt. I don’t have any salve or carbolic acid.” She pried one of the slivers loose.

“Just get them out and I’ll wash my hands.”

She was working on the remaining splinters when Andrew entered with an attractive middle-aged woman. Her cream dress with yellow trim was in the latest fashion. A pert hat with yellow and orange ostrich feathers adorned her dark hair. Her pleasant face was smooth except for tiny lines at the corners of her eyes, no doubt caused by smiles like the one she now wore. In her simple work clothes, Patience immediately felt dowdy by comparison.

Andrew stopped and looked from Patience to Stone. “Reading his palm?”