The Christmas Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides, Book One) (5 page)

He stopped. “What are you so upset about?  A man’s
gotta do what a man’s gotta do!  Doc, Milly and I all discussed it and felt this was the best thing to do all the way around.”

The sobbing came unbidden.  It was humiliating.  Perhaps it was the laudanum over the past few days.  Maybe it was simply the fatigue at spending each waking moment trying to figure out a way to keep what was happening now from happening at all.  Whatever it was that caused every pent up emotion she’d stuffed deep down inside herself over the last few days to suddenly erupt, Summe
r wished with all her might it would stop.   But it didn’t.

A horrible wail escaped her just as they reached the stage.

“For the love of God, woman!”  Mr. Riley exclaimed.  “You’d think I was taking you to hang!”

Summer tried to speak but couldn’t, the sobbing was that bad…

“Whacha do, Sheriff?” The stage
coach driver asked.  “Accidently shoot her again?”

“No! Now move aside so I can get her settled.”

Summer sucked big gulps of air, so much so she felt as if she might be sick.  She did her best to wipe away her tears as the awful, beastly,
horrible
Mr. Riley made his way straight to the …

“What?” Summer exclaimed as he stormed past the stagecoach to a wagon parked just behind it.  She looked disbelievingly at the stage
coach driver as he began to secure a trunk onto the back of the stage, ignoring them now. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing?  I told you I made arrangements!  What are you so upset about?  It’s not like its improper or anything!”

“Improper?” Summer echoed.  “What’s improper?”

“For crying out loud woman, are you going to question every blasted thing I do?”

Summer blinked at him a few times in shock. “What … what exactly is it you’re doing?”

He stopped at the back of the wagon.  Spencer was there and watched them warily as he tossed some bla
nkets into the wagon bed then jumped up himself.

“Isn’t obvious you silly woman?  I’m taking you home!”

Five

Summer stared numbly at him as Spencer quickly spread the blankets over some hay.  Mr. Riley stared right back, his jaw set as he shook his head then gently handed her up to his brother’s out stretched arms.  Without saying a word Spencer settled her onto the waiting blankets, covered her with yet several more, then climbed over the wagon seat and sat.  Mr. Riley took the satchel from Milly, tossed it into the wagon, then hopped up himself and sat beside her.  He looked down at her briefly before he tucked the blankets in more tightly then put an arm around her and pulled her against him. 

“Let’s go,” he said, his jaw
set as before.

Summer audibly gulped. “I… I thought…”

“You thought what?  I’d really like to know because I’ve never seen someone make such a fuss over having to give up their room to a couple of wounded men.  But they’re my men and I want them cared for proper.”

“Your men were hurt?” She asked on a whispe
r, still not over the shock he wasn’t sending her away.

“Shot unfortunately.  Feel bad about it, but at least they’re not dead.  Both are married.”

She stared at him, her mouth open in a continual state of utter disbelief.  “You’re taking me to your house then?”

Mr. Riley looked at her, his face now a mask of concern mixed with something else.  Was he about to laugh at her?  He held her to him a bit tighter and yelled. “Don’t bother sparing the horses, Spencer!  Let’s get on home!”

* * *

Good grief!  What did doc give her?  She was acting plumb loco!  Crying, sobbing, carrying on like he was … oh no, it couldn’t be…  He chanced a look at her and loosed his grip.  He was trying to keep her warm, but earlier he feared she might try to jump out of the wagon what with the crazy way she was going on, so he figured he best keep a tight hold on her.  But what woman wouldn’t if she thought he was going to load her up on the stage injured as she was and send her away?

Oh Lord!  How could she think such a thing?  Didn’t I tell her I’d make all the arrangements?

But had he really?
He’d spent the last five days getting shot at and trying to keep himself and his men in one piece.  Making arrangements to transport Miss James to the farm hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of his mind.  When he got back that morning he’d hurried home, got cleaned up, spoke with his mother and brother then went into town to gather up what he needed.  Namely the woman sitting next to him who looked like she didn’t know whether or not she was going to laugh or cry hysterically.  Either one he decided, would be bad.  If she laughed hysterically she might well
be
loco.  If she cried, he’d have to climb up front with Spencer.  If there was one thing Clayton Riley couldn’t stand, it was a crying woman.  Carrying her to the wagon had about done him in.  To realize she was sobbing the way she was because she thought he was sending her away was harder to choke down now than when it was actually happening.

How on earth did he not explain it?  But then, he’d been in
such a hurry to find Spencer so he could send word to the mail order bride company that Miss James had arrived and  do a little detective work, he might not have explained a thing.  He couldn’t remember.  What he did remember was she came to Nowhere because she was running from something.  He was no Pinkerton, but he had a nose for finding things out nonetheless. He glanced at her again.  Once he got her settled at the farm he’d find out a thing or two about his future bride.

Clayton pushed back his hat and allowed himself a moment to
relax as Miss James was calm for the time being.  She did look a fright though.  Her eyes were puffy and red, her nose much the same. He wondered if they should stop at the creek and clean her up before their mother saw her.  But his mother would probably make a bigger fuss if she found out they did. It was getting down right cold out and would probably snow later. No, he’d have to carry Miss James into the house and face the music like a man.  And then, of course, pray his mother and brother could keep their mouths shut that he’d had no idea Miss James had been sent to be his future bride in the first place.  Seemed the whole town knew it.  By a sheer miracle no one had said a word to the poor woman.  Probably because it was a lot more fun to watch him squirm.  Milly and Doc had kept everyone away for the most part, but then Milly and Doc were also the worst!  Especially Milly who threatened him the day he left with the posse from Northridge that she might accidently spill the beans.  But for a front seat at his wedding, she’d keep her mouth shut!

Clayton shook his head and smiled at the thought as Spencer drove on. 

They reached the house without incident and Spencer pulled up to the front porch.  Their mother came running out, her face lit with pure delight, and went straight for them. “At last!  Land
sakes I thought you’d never get here!”

Spencer set the brake and hopped down.  “Actually, we made excellent time.  Clayton couldn’t wait to get home, could you Clayton?”

Clayton unwrapped his arm from around the now trembling woman at his side and glared at his brother.  He then looked to her.  “You okay?  You’re shaking like a leaf.”

Her teeth began to chatter.  “I … I’m …It’s just…”

He bent his head to hers, his voice low. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Miss James.  How could you think I would …”

“Stop dawdling
Clayton and let me see my new daughter in law!”  His mother cried from the porch.

Clayton sighed.  “She
’s not your daughter in law yet, ma.  She’s gotta heal up first.”

“All th
e more reason to get her off that dusty old pile of hay and bring her inside. It’s freezing out here!  Hurry up now!”

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Mr. Riley,” Miss James said in a soft voice.

“Stop.  I’ll hear none of it.  You thought I was sending you back and did … well, I suppose you did what any woman would do.  I guess if I was a woman I might wail like a coyote too.”  Her eyes flashed at his words and for some reason he was glad he got a burr under her saddle.  It sure beat seeing her all teary eyed and sniffling.

Before she cou
ld comment Spencer had climbed over the seat and into the wagon bed. Clayton scooted away from Miss James and hopped out.  Spencer then carefully picked her up, blankets and all, and handed her down to him.

“I am sorry for the
misunderstanding.  It was my fault, I should have made myself more clear.” He told her again in a low voice as he headed for the porch where his mother waited.

She said nothing, only stared at him with those big blue eyes of hers, her body spent f
rom her earlier bout of sobbing. She was limp in his arms, her head against his shoulder as he went up the porch steps and it was entirely his fault.

“Oh my word!  What’s happened to the poor girl?  You boys didn’t drive that team too fast did you?  Why
, she looks like someone beat her with a stick.”

Ouch!
Their mother always did have a way with words, but did she have to put it that way?

“Bring her inside, Clayton!  Hurry up now!”  He fol
lowed his mother into the warm house, down the hall and into a small office they converted to a bedroom earlier that afternoon.  Mrs. Charles Riley wasn’t about to risk further injury to her future daughter in law by having her stumble down the stairs with an injured foot! 

“Set her on the bed, Clayton.  That’s it, careful now…”

“She’s not going to break, ma.” Clayton told her in a tired voice.  Now that he thought on it, he
was
tired.  The last three days had been long and hard.  Topping it off with a frightened woman who thought him to be one of the lowliest scumbags in the territory didn’t help.  But he’d make it up to her, he just didn’t know how. Maybe Spencer could help, but then, it was Spencer that got him into this mess in the first place!  Worse, he found out it was his
mother’s idea
to send away for a mail order bride!

“There now, that’s better isn’t
it dear? You just stay right there while I go fix you a little snack before supper.  I’m sure Doc and Milly didn’t fill you up with anything but soup while you were at their place!”

His mother turned and happily left the room.  One would think Clayton had just given her a new toy! Perhaps after a day or two she’d calm down, but the more he thought on it, he didn’t think so.  Sarah had left a void in his mother
’s life too.  She was the daughter his mother never had and suffered the loss when she died just as hard as everyone else.

But this wasn’t Sarah on the bed staring up at him with her jaw set now in pure determination.  In fact, the woman’s look was so determined he began to worry what sort of
thoughts she had going on in that pretty little head of hers.

“I’ll go get your bag,” he told her and turned.

“Mr. Riley.”  It was spoken as a definite statement, not an inquiry.

“Yes?” he asked without turning around.

“Thank you.”

Now he did turn. “For what?”

“For not sending me away. I promise I’ll make you a good wife.”

Her words were spoken in an even tone, void of emotion. Where was the wailing, sobbing, frightened little thing that threatened to tear his heart out? He once again turned to the doorway. “I’m sure you will.”

And with that, he left the room.

* * *

“Here you are, some nice molasses cookies!  Made them this morning I did!  I hope you like them!”  Mrs. Riley set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk down on a desk that was next to the small bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable in here until you can sleep up in Clayton’s room.  This used to be my husband’s office.  The boys use it now of course but I thought it would serve you best for the time being.”

Summer couldn’t help the blush that crept into her cheeks when Mrs. Riley mentioned Clayton’s room.  But where else would she be sleeping once they were married? She pushed the thought aside and took in the woman standing before her.

She had bright blue eyes that sparkled and possessed what must have once been a glorious head of blonde hair. Now heavily streaked with grey, she wore it loosely piled on top of her head and Summer wondered how long it was.  Mrs. Riley also had a generous build but wasn’t fat, and there was a pleasant smell about her, as if she’d been baking cookies outside the house rather than inside.

Where as
Summer had been given her name because she was born on the first day of said season and left on Winslow’s doorstep, she thought Mrs. Riley could have been named for Spring.  She had a pleasant lilt to her voice and her eyes lit up and sparkled like raindrops in sunshine. Everything about her said fresh and new and Summer could tell by the animated way the woman talked that she was full of life.

Summer’s eyes darted about the room.  Who wouldn’t be full of life and love in a house like this?  Ev
erything was neat and orderly - pristine was a good word - yet so homey and warm.  She looked back to Mrs. Riley.  “Thank you for allowing me to stay here.”

Mrs. Riley looked at her in shock.  “My dear sweet child, you’re gong to live here!  You don’t have to thank me for it!  If any one thank Spence …oh, silly me, I’m forever getting those two boys mixed up. Thank
Clayton
for bringing you out here.”

Summer blinked a fe
w times.  How could she get her sons mixed up with something like marriage? Didn’t she know which one of them sent away for a mail order bride?

“Oh but you must be tired!  I’ll leave you to rest then have Clayton br
ing you to the table when supper is ready.”

Summer smiled and nodded, her eyes heavy.  The incident in town had drained all her strength and it was hitting her hard now that she knew she was to be alone for a time.  “Thank you, Mr
s. Riley.  I think I will rest awhile.”

“You do that dear, I’ll send Clayton just
as soon as it’s time to eat.”  She backed out of the room and closed the door.

Summer let go a long, weary sigh.  What must her future husband think of her now
what with the way she’d carried on?  What indeed?  As she recalled, he compared her to a wailing coyote!  But she supposed they could have gotten off to a much rougher start …

Rougher start my foot!  Literally! The man shot you as soon as you got off the stage!

Oh
, yes, there was that.  But the alternative to having her future husband accidently shoot her, fail to tell her of his plans not to send her away, and of course let her make a fool of herself in front of everyone (okay, so maybe she did that on her own) was to live as a slave in a world where men dominated and women were bought and sold like cattle.  New Orleans had been a den of slavery for decades and would probably continue to be unless someone put a stop to it.  In the mean time people like Mrs. Ridgley and Mrs. Teeters did whatever they could to ensure at least some women got out before they were snatched up and put into the waiting chains of guilt and shame.

Summer closed her eyes and waited for the throbbing in her foot to subside before she tried to move int
o a more comfortable position to rest.  She looked up at the decorative light hanging from the ceiling before examining the rest of the room.  Her eyes finally landed on the cookies next to the bed.  She reached for one, then the glass of milk.  She took a tiny bite and thought her mouth was going to explode with pleasure!  It was delicious!  The milk too was incredibly good!  For one it wasn’t sour as it often was by the time they got it at Winslow.  Tears sprang to her eyes as she sat there on the tiny bed, a cookie and a glass of milk in her hands, and realized she’d never had such a simple pleasure in her entire life.