Shameful Celia (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 3) (2 page)

A
fter having spent
the night at an inn in El Paso, I set out in the morning for Lamy, arriving in the early afternoon to what looked like gloomy skies. The landscape had changed radically from Texas, as green lushness had morphed into rock and dirt with vistas that stretched out as far as the eye could see. I hadn’t expected it to look so dry, the tan-colored hills spotted with green shrubbery. Before I had exited the train, the skies opened up above me, as rain poured down in a relentless torrent. This was not a good beginning to what I had hoped would be a pleasant first meeting with my future husband.

Wrapping a thin shawl around my shoulders, I proceeded to the exit, holding the bag before me. The time I had spent on the train had given me an opportunity to sleep, because the vibrations of the running gear had lulled me easily into slumber. Compared to the rough ride of a carriage, traveling by train was far superior, and I had genuinely enjoyed the journey, although, from the rumblings in my belly, I needed to eat something.

Stepping onto the platform, I lowered my face to escape the rain, hurrying for the overhang near the station. Not knowing what my fiancé looked like, I gazed at the travelers, searching for anyone who seemed to be waiting for someone. A man stood a short distance off, wearing a broad-brimmed hat that dripped with water. The shoulders of his sack suit had soaked through. He appeared to be expecting someone from the train, because his attention remained fixed upon it. When the last man exited, followed by a porter, he scanned the area, his eyes settling on me.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I prepared to greet my fiancé, because I felt certain I had found him. He strode towards me, his expression hopeful.

“Miss Wellington?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

His grin revealed a handsome face. “Earnest Hobart.” He held out a hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“And you.” I shook his hand. “It’s raining buckets here.”

“It is. Let’s get out of the elements, shall we?”

“Certainly.” I moved to the side, exposing my width, although it wasn’t evident that he noticed.

“Did you have a safe journey?”

“I did. It was nice. I slept a good bit. Those trains sure are comfortable.”

He gave me a look. “Really? I always get a stitch in my neck. I can never sleep with all the ruckus either. People talking and babies crying. It gives me a headache. I’ve been in a Pullman car once. It was tolerable.”

Cushioned seats were a novelty for me, because the only chairs I had ever sat on were made from wood. “A sleeping car sounds divine. I’d like to travel like that some day.”

“My carriage is over there. We should hurry. It’s not getting any better out here.”

I met him stride for stride. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have luggage somewhere? Is that bag everything?”

“Yes, it is. I travel … light.”

“I see.” We had reached the carriage, and the driver hopped down from his perch to open the door. “I hired a cab for the ride to town. I assumed it would be better than horseback or wagon.” He grinned. “I wanted to make a good first impression.”

“Oh, you certainly have. You’re far better looking than I thought you’d be. I worried you might be ugly.” Lloyd had been rough in manner and appearance, which I had not found to my liking.

This seemed to amuse him. “I’m glad you think it. You’re quite lovely yourself.”

“Er … thank you.” I was handed up into the carriage, finding the interior warmly appointed with polished wood and fine leather. “Oh, lordy, this
is
nice.” Sitting on a cushioned seat was always a luxury, and my aching back thanked me. The bag remained in my lap, effectively hiding my “delicate” condition.

Earnest grasped the handle, closing the door. “Now then, that’s so much better. Do you need a cloth? You’re a bit wet.”

“No, I’m fine.” I glanced at the damp sleeves of the dress. “It all sank in pretty good.”

He sat across from me, removing his hat, which exposed thinning hair. “I hope you don’t mind, if we go straight to the church. Pastor Kinsley is waiting and so is Mrs. Hershey. They’re eager to meet you. They’re eager to see me married too.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you that last time.” His fiancé had run off with his best friend. Angered and embittered, he had wallowed in his resentment, vowing not to become engaged again. He had confessed all of this in a letter.

“My parents are delighted I’ll finally marry and carry on the name. They would’ve wanted to be here, but they’re not healthy enough to travel. My father’s gout is troubling him again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. My pa used to soak his feet in Epsom Salt for that. Did that help your pa?”

“I’m sure he’s tried it. He’s tried everything. He’s been drinking a great deal of water and eating strawberries. Nothing seems to help.”

“Sounds like it’s rather serious.”

“Yes.”

I glanced out the window, as we passed the last building in town. We were nearly free of the city limits, and there were no other conveyances heading in this direction. “How long until Boot Creek?”

“Twenty minutes or so.”

The rain had stopped, the clouds opening to reveal blue skies and sunshine. “It’s dry here.”

“Our weather doesn’t last long. It’s always good to have rain, but we need more. It’s mostly arid in this part of the world.”

The comfortable, light conversation had eased whatever worries I’d had, but I had yet to confess the pregnancy. I would have to do so before we arrived at the church, but fear seemed to have rendered me mute on the topic.

“I look forward to seeing your farm.”

“It’s more like a ranch. I’ve got pigs, goats, and horses. A few cows as well. The hay and sorghum yield was outstanding this year. I made a tidy profit. I also harvest piñon nuts and pinto beans.”

“It’ll be refreshing being married to someone who’s successful for once.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, I … I … just find it refreshing. Most of the men I know aren’t doing so well. They’re rather … um … poor.”

“There are plenty of poor folks in Boot Creek too, Celia. We’ve got it all in our little town. Everything from the down-and-outs, to the rich cattle barons.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Would you like me to put your bag on the floor? You don't have to hold onto it the entire ride. Looks like you’re clutching it for dear life.” He grinned.

Oh, I am
. “That’s fine. I can hold it.”

The longer we rode, the more nervous I became, because my moment of reckoning was close at hand. I would have to confess to a few things that were sure to shock my fiancé. I felt badly about this, but I hoped he would be able to overlook the fact that I was pregnant and had been married, however briefly. He did say he wanted to continue the family name. The way I saw it, this was the perfect opportunity for him to achieve that.

“I wish we had another day so, so you could recover from your travels and refresh yourself. If I were in your shoes, I’d want a bath and a change of clothing. I'm sorry everything’s so rushed. I just think it best to marry first. Then no one will look sideways at the fact that you’re staying in my house.”

“I understand. It’s a sound idea, Earnest. I agree completely. I’d love a bath, and Lord knows I need one, but I can wash up later.”

He nodded, a cheerful expression remaining in place. “Very well.”

A group of buildings came into view. “Is that Boot Creek?”

“It is.”

Sitting up, the traveling bag slipped from my lap. “Oh, gracious.” After I had retrieved it, I glanced at Earnest. “I sure am looking forward to marrying you. You’ve been the answer to my prayers.”

His smile had fallen, while his brows furrowed. “I thought you were plump.”

“Oh, I am. I’ve gained a bit of weight over the last few months.”

“Weight?”

“Um … yes, a bit.”

“You look like you’re with child, Celia.”

Oh, dear. Now I would have to confess. “I wanted to discuss that with you.”

He sat forward, glaring at me. “I beg your pardon?”

Goodness he looked cross. “I … I … have s-something to t-tell you.”

“It looks as if you’re quite well along in this pregnancy. Don’t you think you could’ve told me about this when we first corresponded?”

“I probably should’ve.”

He raked fingers through the sparse hair on his scalp. “For pity’s sake!”

“You said you wanted to continue the family name. Well, this will give us a running start on that.”

“Have you lost your senses? I don’t want to raise some other man’s child, Celia. I want my own child. I wanted a pure wife, not a lying little tart.”

“I was married! My husband died and left me with nothing! When I saw the ad in the paper, I thought it was the answer to my prayers. I’m not a tart.”

“You were married?” The color drained from his face.

“I was. His bull stomped on him and killed him dead. I discovered I was in the family way a short while later.”

He sat back, staring out the window at the busy street. I did too, curious about what Boot Creek looked like. I spied a bustling little town of clapboard sided storefronts and lengthy boardwalks. Men in wide-brimmed hats strode towards the saloon, which was in the center of all the activity. A whitewashed church appeared at the end of the lane, with a towering steeple. The driver had directed the horses towards a grouping of Coyote Willows.

“Are we still getting married?” He seemed reluctant to speak, his jaw firmly set. A man and a woman stood on the front steps of the church, and I assumed the tall, blonde gentleman was the pastor. “Earnest?”

The carriage ground to a halt, and, before the driver had a chance to open the door, Mr. Hobart pushed it ajar, hurrying out. He helped me descend, by holding my elbow. Then his fingers closed around my arm, as he dragged me up the steps.

“This is your handiwork, Mrs. Hershey,” he intoned angrily.

The woman he spoke to wore a black hat with a multitude of feathers. “I see she’s arrived.” She smiled kindly. “I’m always so happy when a plan comes to fruition. I hope you’ve had a lovely journey, Celia.”

I tried to smile, but I was certain it looked like a frown. “I did.” Glancing at the pastor, meeting his inquisitive gaze, I felt a strange jolt, like I had touched a doorknob during a dry winter and gotten a shock. “Hello.”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs. Hershey.” Earnest pushed me before him. “You’ve gone and done it this time, I say. What is the meaning of this?” My belly jutted the material of the calico dress, revealing my delicate state. “How do you explain this?
This
is my chaste fiancé? You made no mention this woman was married before. You said nothing about her being with child.”

Mrs. Hershey glanced at my protruding belly, her eyes widening. “Oh, my stars.” Her gloved hand went to her throat.

“Why don’t we come inside?” said the pastor evenly. “It looks like Celia could use a cup of tea and a chair.” He did not wait for a response, taking my arm. “Come this way, please. I’ve a small kitchen at the back.”

Surprised by his kindness, I tried valiantly to smile, although tears threatened. “Thank you.” I hated to admit it, but Lenny’s parting words had come true. He was right; I would need all the luck I could get.

“If you think I’m marrying her, you’re mad. This was not what I expected. I feel like I’ve been duped, I tell you.”

“Oh, Mr. Hobart,” soothed Mrs. Hershey. “Do calm down. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“There is. I’ve been lied to. She’s a filthy little liar.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Pastor Kinsley escorted me away down a small hallway past an office. Unable to hear what else was said, I found myself alone with the clergyman.

“I’ll put the kettle on. Do sit.”

Sliding into a chair, I stared at the room, which was sparsely furnished with only four chairs, a table, and some cupboards. “I guess it’s hopeless now.”

He turned to look at me. “Nothing is ever hopeless, Celia. I’m sure things will be settled soon. Mrs. Hershey can be a very persuasive woman. I do wish she would stop playing matchmaker, though. I know she’s been successful twice before, but this time … ” he shrugged … “I don’t know.”

A tear fell to my cheek. “I’m not a tart.”

His smile revealed pleasing dimples. “Of course not. People say things in anger they don’t really mean. I’m sure he’ll apologize once he realizes what a heel he’s been.”

“Today’s supposed to be my wedding day.”

He set a cup in a saucer before me. “And, with any luck, it will be.”

M
rs. Hershey breezed
into the room. “Oh, my heavens.” She glanced at me. “I do believe you owe me an explanation, Ms. Wellington. Or is it Mrs. Wellington?”

“It’s Mrs.” I held up a hand. “I am married, I mean, I was. Lloyd died a few months back and left me with nothing. Then I found out I was carrying his child.”

Pastor Kinsley poured the tea. “Milk, sugar?”

“Yes, please.” I hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and my belly rumbled.

“I’ve some orange cake. Mrs. Hanover brought it over this morning. Would you like a slice?”

“Oh, gracious, goodness, yes, I would, sir. I haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”

“I’ll cut you a piece.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had orange cake before.”

He glanced at Mrs. Hershey. “What became of Mr. Hobart?”

“He’s gone outside to cool down. He’s terribly upset.” She pulled out a chair. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I certainly can’t force a grown man to keep a promise he made. I can understand he feels bamboozled. You didn’t tell him the truth.”

Pastor Kinsley had given me a generous slice of the cake, which I had begun to eat, the crumbs falling from the sides of my mouth. “Hum … ” It tasted heavenly; the orange and vanilla flavoring made me want to groan with pleasure. I took another bite and then another. “Oh … hum … ”

“Celia, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Mum … much … warry …”

“What?”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.” I gazed at the cake in wonder, hoping to have another piece. “That sure was the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. It was better than the plum pudding at the county fair.”

Laughter filled the room. “I’ll get you another piece,” said Pastor Kinsley. “You’ll need some tea to wash that down with.”

There were crumbs on my chest, some having fallen into the spaces between the buttonholes, because my enlarged bosom had strained the material. “I believe so.”

Mrs. Hershey looked aggrieved. “For Pete’s sake! What are we going to do, Nicolas? That man’s responsible for this young woman. She lied about a few things, and now the marriage is in jeopardy.”

“A few things?” He gave me another slice of cake, pulling out a chair. “I’d say she omitted quite a bit. If I were in Earnest’s shoes, I’d be just as grumpy. He came here expecting one thing and got another.” He glanced at me. “She’s a sight, but it’s nothing a little soap and water can’t fix.”

“This is delicious.” I chewed heartily, the rumbling in my belly ceasing. “I sure do like this cake, sir. Your parishioners are lovely people.”

“It’s Nicolas.” His grin creased the edges of his eyes.

“If he won’t marry her, what on earth am I to do? I’ve never had a match fail. I was successful in finding Chastity Donovan a husband, although the first one was a bit of a disaster. I married Lola to one of the richest men in the territory. I’d call that a smashing success.” She beamed. “I consider Lola Kelly to be one of my best friends. I adore that woman.”

“I agree,” said Pastor Kinsley. “She’s done a great many things for this town through her charities.”

“We’re all thrilled to pieces that she’s with child. I couldn’t be more proud of that union. It was a stroke of brilliance.”

“I told you to quit while you were ahead. Now you’ve got a fine disaster on your hands. If Earnest won’t marry her, she’ll be here without a husband or a roof over her head.”

Mrs. Hershey got to her feet. “That can’t happen! I’m going to talk some sense into that man.”

“I wish you luck.”

She harrumphed. “This will not go down in history as a failure. Just watch me.”

“Oh, I will. Nothing could be more entertaining, Doris.” His eyes darted in my direction. “You’re possibly the messiest eater I’ve ever encountered.”

“I really would like another slice of that cake, Mist—Nicolas. I’d be much obliged if you could spare another piece.”

He seemed thoughtful. “You need to eat something more substantial than flour and sugar. It looks like you haven’t eaten in a week. Earnest should take you to a restaurant.”

“He’s not gonna do that. He’s madder than a hornet. I know I’ve done wrong, and it was shameful to lie, but I couldn’t stay where I was. I killed that bull, so I could eat, and then I sold the rest. I did what I could. When I saw the mail order ad, I thought it was a message straight from God.” I wondered if he fought a smile, because his lips twitched. “You believe in God, don’t you, pastor?”

“I do.” Now he grinned in earnest.

“Sometimes God works in mysterious ways. I saw that ad and felt compelled to answer it. Then I met Earnest, and he sounded awfully nice in those letters. I thought we’d make a good match. I hoped so anyhow.”

“You don’t have to explain, Celia. I’m not here to pass judgment on you, nor would I ever do such a thing.”

“It was providence. I was supposed to come here. He said he needed a wife, and I was already a wife, so I knew I could do the job reasonably well. It’s not that hard to chop wood and boil water. I managed to keep things tidy, even after the house flooded. Lloyd never had any complaints.” I patted my belly. “And I know I pleased him reasonably well in other respects, because he was always wanting to take me to bed.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then.” Getting to his feet, he turned his back to me, and I suspected he chuckled, although it came out sounding like a cough. “I think I’ll go see what’s taking Mrs. Hershey so long.”

Before he left, Mrs. Hershey appeared, with Earnest in tow, but he looked peeved. “I’ve managed to get him to come and talk to Celia.” A tentative smile lingered on her face. “All is not perfect, but I have every hope this situation can be remedied.”

Earnest glared at me. “You put too much stock in your powers of persuasion. I’ve no interest in marrying this woman. I’ll reimburse her for the train fare and traveling money, but then I’m done.”

I stared at my hands. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but it changes nothing. I came here expecting an unencumbered young woman, and what I got was a filthy little liar.”

“All right,” interjected Nicolas sternly. “That’s not necessary. Mrs. Wellington is remiss for omitting her past, but who hasn’t told a fib or two? There are several good reasons for what she’s done. I understand you may not wish to continue with the marriage, but insulting this poor, desperate woman isn’t gentlemanly.”

He inhaled, lifting his chin. “I’m sorry.” Reaching into his waistcoat, he pulled out a leather billfold. “Here is the money I owe you.” He placed it on the table before me. “I am gravely disappointed to find you lacking. I had expected a chaste young woman without a past. I realize it was asking too much. I refuse to raise someone else’s child. I find it abhorrent. I cannot apologize for that, because it’s the way I feel.”

I was confused. “Ab … what?”

“Distasteful,” said Pastor Kinsley.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a hard life. I hope you find someone who’ll take you in and give you shelter. I cannot bring you home.” He glanced at Mrs. Hershey. “Censor me all you want, but my family would object strenuously if I married her. I would never hear the end of it from my mother, and I do not cross my mother. Ever.” He glowered unhappily. “I could also say that you’ve deceived me.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“I wonder if you knew about this, but kept it from me? Who’s to say you’re not culpable. This mail order scheme of yours is an utter failure.”

“It is not,” she objected, looking astounded. “I’ve had smashing success before. I’ve two successful couples now, and I have every hope Celia will find a husband, making it three. I had no clue she was with child. She told me nothing about being married before. I’m in the dark as much as you are. I would never deliberately deceive anyone.”

“Well, I’ve been deceived. Now I must be going.” He tipped his hat to me. “Good day, Mrs. Wellington. I hope you find yourself in better circumstances real soon.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

“Well, that’s that, I suppose,” muttered Mrs. Hershey. “I am shocked by the outcome.”

“He didn’t have to pay me. I don’t deserve the money. You can keep it.” I slid the coins towards Pastor Kinsley. “Somebody can buy food with that.”

The preacher’s expression remained grim. “She’s without protection now. Where will she stay?”

“I suppose I’ll take her home. I don’t know what else to do.” Pulling out a chair, she sat, her shoulders slumping. “What a muddle.”

“There’s a room above the Men’s Emporium. Buddy Wexler was looking for a tenant. It’s nothing much, just a small room with a shared water closet.”

“You live there.”

“I do, on the other end of the hallway. That’s how I know it’s available. It had the sign out this morning.”

“That’s something,” said Mrs. Hershey, sitting a little straighter. “We can get her settled there, while I find her a husband. There are other eligible bachelors in town. I take this failure personally, Nicolas. It grieves me to know she won’t be married, and she certainly needs a husband. She’s about to give birth, for heaven’s sake.”

Pastor Kinsley glanced at me. “How far along are you?”

“I’ve no earthly idea.”

“You haven’t seen a doctor?” Mrs. Hershey’s brows had drawn together.

“No. Never saw one of those.”

“Oh, my stars. She needs to see Doctor Baker as soon as possible.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll get her settled and arrange an appointment.”

“That’s so kind of you, Nicolas. You’re a good man. You’d never leave a woman in her condition to the streets to fend for herself.”

His eyes skimmed over me. “I have a feeling I might regret this, but sometimes we’re asked to do things we never thought we would. He does work in mysterious ways.”

These strangers seemed to be deciding my life for me, talking about me as if I were a piece of unwanted furniture that needed to be moved around. “What if I don’t want to stay here? I can’t afford a room anyhow, not for long anyway. I’d only be a burden to you people.”

“I’ll pay for the room,” said Nicolas. “I’ll get the discounted rate. It’s nothing to write home about, but it’s got a bed and a dresser. I can provide you with pillows and blankets.” He got to his feet. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

Something in his smile made my belly flip over in teasing little tingles. Or was that the effect of eating all that sugar? “All right.”

“We need to get real food in you as well.”

“I’d love some supper. I sure am hungry still, although that cake was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

I scrambled to my feet. “Thank you, Mrs. Hershey. This whole situation is my fault. Earnest Hobart had every right to refuse me. I worried it might happen, but I prayed it wouldn’t. I was dishonest as can be in my letters. I just didn’t have much choice in the matter. I hope you can understand that. I never meant to be a liar like that. Life’s been hard lately, especially after Lloyd died. I thought I could manage on my own, but I can’t, not stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

“You don’t need to explain, Celia.” Mrs. Hershey stood, clasping her hands before her. “Plenty of women lose their husbands and are destitute. If you’re not near family who can help, it’s a dire situation indeed.”

“My family’s dead, and my brothers and sister are elsewhere. I was a surprise baby to my parents. They were pretty long in the tooth when they had me. By the time I grew up, everybody had already left. They got families of their own now. I didn’t want to burden them. I really was hoping to find a husband.”

She patted my shoulder. “Don’t make yourself uneasy, my dear. I’m going to do everything in my power to see you happily married.”

“Is this your only bag?” asked Nicolas.

“Yes.”

Mrs. Hershey eyed the worn leather satchel. “She’s going to need more things than that.”

“I have a change of clothes. That’s about all.”

“People have donated clothing to the church,” she said. “I’ll ask Mrs. Kelly for help as well. She’s always been generous with the orphans and widows fund. I’m sure she’ll do something for Celia.”

“It’s going to be just fine,” said Nicolas. “Don't worry so much.”

“I can’t help feeling dreadful.”

He escorted me to the door. “No harm’s been done. Mrs. Wellington will be well taken care of.”

The kindly pastor had my attention, as curiosity propelled me to ask, “You sure are handsome for a preacher. I didn’t see a wedding ring. Why aren’t you married?”

Startled by the compliment and the blunt question, he blinked rapidly. “I … um … ”

Mrs. Hershey’s laughter filled the room. “My dear, you’ve just asked the one question everyone in town has wanted to ask, but never dared.”