The Convenient Mail Order Bride (13 page)

What made Phoebe think she could be content
living here for the rest of her life? This would be her experience
every time she went to town if she persisted in giving them power
over her. Did she really want to deal with this all the time?

His mother had been too soft for the kind of
life she’d been given. And now he had another soft female to
contend with. At least Phoebe’s mother wasn’t disturbed by any of
it. Or, if she was, she was doing a good job of hiding it.

Abe relaxed as he guided his horses up the
path that would take him home. One way or another, he was going to
see to it that Phoebe and her mother went on the stagecoach when it
came into town. She deserved better than this, and he’d make sure
she got it.

Chapter Twelve

F
or
the next few days, Phoebe decided to pretty up the cabin. If she
was going to make a home for her and her mother here, it was time
she added her special touch to the place. And in all honesty, it
was fun to think of how she could transform the cabin from a
bachelor’s home to that of a married man.

Since she’d already taken the time to sweep
the floors, clean the windows, and dust the furniture, she could
devote her attention to helping her mother with the curtains. The
two spent considerable time on the porch, enjoying the warm weather
and sunlight while they worked. From time to time, they talked
about Phillip and his family, and in doing so, they took a break
from their work to write them a missive to let them know everything
that had happened.

“Next time we’re in town, we’ll send it
off,” her mother said after Phoebe finished writing her portion of
it.

From there, they returned to their work and
made guesses on whether Phillip’s next child would be a girl or a
boy, each knowing they probably wouldn’t find out for a few months,
given how long it took to send or receive anything all the way out
here.

When they finished with the curtains, they
placed them throughout the cabin, and as they finished with Abe’s
room, Phoebe took a moment to give the room a good inspection. Up
to now, she hadn’t given serious consideration to the fact that
this would also be her room once they married.

Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.
Just how would things change between them once the preacher joined
them as husband and wife? At the moment, they had settled into a
quiet routine, and they seemed to be getting along fine. Most of
her time was still spent with her mother, but she suspected that
would change once she started sleeping in here.

“You don’t like the way the room looks?” her
mother asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“No, it’s not that,” Phoebe replied.

The room was quaint in its appearance.
Though it belonged to a bachelor, Abe had chosen to leave a couple
of things his mother must have made for him. There was a quilt best
suited for a child neatly folded on the chair in the corner of the
room. A set of blocks and a wooden horse were neatly set on top of
it. Other than that, the simple dresser and bed were about all the
furnishings in the room.

Phoebe thought the brown curtains gave the
room a more rustic feel. They were a little frilly on the ends,
which made them more feminine, but she thought Abe would prefer the
darker color. So really, they were a blend of her and Abe,
something she hoped he wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t thought to seek
his advice before starting the project, and honestly, it wasn’t
until this moment she regretted this error in judgment. She
shouldn’t have assumed he’d be happy with the changes she was
making.

She turned to her mother. “Do you think
he’ll like what we’re doing with this cabin?”

“I don’t know if men concern themselves with
how a home looks,” her mother replied. “Your pa never seemed to
notice anything I did, and Phillip didn’t seem to care when
Beatrice put up pink, lacy curtains. I think men expect women to
decorate the home however they see fit, but if you’re worried, you
should ask Abe. Then you can set your mind at ease.”

Phoebe knew her mother was right, but she
wasn’t looking forward to that particular conversation. He’d been
pretty determined to see her and her mother on the next stagecoach
the last time they’d been in town. She didn’t know if the past few
days had changed his mind or not.

“You’re right,” Phoebe said, scanning the
room again. “I should talk to him.” Taking a deep breath, she faced
her mother. “Wish me luck?”

Her mother gave her an understanding smile
then hugged her. “You’ve always been so hesitant, but in the end,
you get things done. I have no doubt you’ll find a way to convince
him the cabin is much better with your personal touch.”

“You helped.”

“Yes, but this is your home. No matter what
people say, the wife is the one the house truly belongs to.”

“Is that why Pa always said the best thing
he could do for you was to stay out of your way?” Phoebe asked,
unable to resist teasing her mother.

Her mother chuckled. “That’s exactly why he
said that. He was a smart man, and Abe is smart, too. I’m sure all
your fears are for nothing. You’ll feel better after you talk to
him.”

She hoped her mother was right. So far,
nothing had turned out like she’d hoped when she answered the
mail-order bride ad. But Abe had been good. He hadn’t once taken
advantage of her, and he had the perfect opportunity the night
she’d accidently fallen asleep in the barn loft with him. He’d set
up the metal scraps around the property and helped them wash the
pots and pans when he’d brought them back to the kitchen. He’d
brought her and her mother food from the garden. He’d hunted and
skinned three small animals so she and her mother were spared
having to cut up the meat. She honestly didn’t know how he managed
to stomach it. The sight alone had made her queasy when she
stumbled upon him skinning the rabbits he’d caught.

Life was drastically different out here than
it’d been in Ohio, but it was lovely in the evenings. One of her
favorite pastimes was sitting on the porch and listening to the
birds sing. From time to time, she’d venture up on the barn roof to
get a good look at the mountains.

There was a beauty to being surrounded by a
lot of trees, and in many ways, the rest of the world seemed to
fade away. The hustle and bustle of the city was long gone, and
surprisingly, she didn’t miss all the places she’d gone shopping.
How quickly she’d gotten used to a new environment.

With one last glance at her mother, she
smiled then headed outside. She didn’t find Abe right away. He
wasn’t in the barn or in the garden. When she did find him, she saw
him bending over one of his traps. Upon closer inspection, she saw
he was prying the trap open, so he could release the dead coyote
from it. A bloody knife was beside Abe, and the ground beneath the
body was red.

Abe glanced over his shoulder, and when his
eyes met hers, he shook his head. “I think I destroyed the fur. I
try to be careful if I have to kill an animal I trap.”

“You keep the fur when you skin
animals?”

He nodded and gathered the coyote in his
arms. “I look for things to make with it. Usually, I make blankets
or rugs, but from time to time, I line clothes to make them warmer.
The rug in front of the fireplace came from three animals. I try
not to let anything from the animal go to waste. It’s something my
uncle taught me.”

“That’s a good idea.” She stepped aside so
he could get around her. As she followed him, she asked, “My mother
and I thought it might be nice to pretty up the cabin. You noticed
us sewing on the porch the last few days, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were working on a dress.”

“No, we were working on curtains.”

“Curtains? Why were you doing those?”

She shrugged. “I thought the windows looked
bare.” She followed him into the barn. “Do you want me to help you
with anything?”

“Would you get a blanket out from that trunk
over there,” he gestured to the corner of the barn, “and roll it
out on that table?” He nodded toward the small table under a
window.

She hurried to obey and watched as he set
the dead animal gently on the blanket.

“I don’t usually catch an animal this big,”
he told her. “He has such a beautiful coat.” He shook his head. “I
shouldn’t have been so careless when I cut his throat.”

“You didn’t mean to be careless.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I meant to be
careless or not. The fact is, I was.” He lifted the lid from the
trunk and picked up an empty pail. “I’ll see how bad the damage is
after I clean it. Maybe something can be saved.”

She stepped in front of him before he could
leave the barn. “Abe, I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on
yourself.”

“I’ve been trapping coyotes and other
animals since I was seven. There’s no excuse for such
carelessness.”

“But these things happen. We all have our
moments.”

“When you need to preserve the fur, you
can’t afford those kind of moments.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It
doesn’t matter. I can’t go back and undo the damage. I’ll save what
I can and do better next time.”

She bit her lower lip, so she wouldn’t
remind him this wasn’t the end of the world. Abe was surprisingly
hard on himself when he didn’t perform a task up to his standards.
She’d never come across someone who demanded perfection of himself
before. Just what was she supposed to say to him?

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to say anything.
Maybe she was better off leaving him alone. Abe seemed like the
kind of man who’d rather be alone when he was upset.

She returned to the house, and her mother
asked, “What did he say about the curtains?”

It was then Phoebe remembered why she’d gone
out there to talk to him. She debated going back out, but
considering what happened with the coyote, she thought better of
it. Since her mother was still looking at her expectantly, Phoebe
said, “I don’t know. We’ll just have to take our chances that the
curtains are alright. He caught a coyote, and he’s too busy to
talk.”

Her mother nodded. “Let’s hang up the other
curtains in our bedroom.”

Glad her mother didn’t press the issue, she
gathered the light green curtains and followed her mother to the
bedroom.

***

It wasn’t until Abe settled in his bed for
the night that he noticed the curtains. Eyebrows furrowed, he
studied them, noting the way they blocked the moonlight from
streaming in through the window. Since when did he have curtains?
He was sure he hadn’t had them last night.

Then he remembered his conversation with
Phoebe earlier that day when she found him at the trap. She’d
mentioned something about curtains. But she’d chosen to put
curtains in his room, and this signified something important. He
was sure of it. A woman didn’t put curtains in a man’s room unless
she was planning to make this her room, too.

His gut tightened. She had no intention of
leaving. Even after going into town and seeing firsthand how little
people thought of her because of her association with him, she
planned to marry him. He didn’t understand her at all. What kind of
woman wanted this kind of life? Did she really enjoy knowing there
were scraps of metal around the cabin and barn? Did she honestly
think once Benny and Enoch were out of jail, things would be as
quiet as they were now?

Yes, she probably did. She probably assumed
because Eric Johnson put them in jail, that was the end of it. But
it wasn’t. Enoch might go to the saloon and end up too drunk to
care, but Benny wasn’t so forgiving. Abe should have known better
than to believe Benny wouldn’t let any harm come to Phoebe because
she was white. He should have realized his association with Phoebe
would make Benny think less of her. Well, that was an error in
judgment he wouldn’t make again.

If she’d get on the stagecoach when it came,
it’d make things so much easier. But those curtains told him what
he feared most. Soon, it wouldn’t just be him he’d have to defend.
There would be two women he’d be responsible for. His uncle had
thought he could protect him and his mother, and he’d paid for that
mistake with his life.

Just the reminder brought an image of Gene
Carter’s sneer to mind. He’d put the rifle over his shoulder right
after killing his uncle and turned to Abe, who’d been ten at the
time. “Let that be a lesson to you, half-breed. You don’t give us
what we want, and you’ll pay for it.” Then he’d gone into the cabin
and forced himself upon Abe’s mother.

Gritting his teeth, Abe stared at the
ceiling, once again wishing he knew where Gene lived. But the man
lived like a vagabond, only popping up in town once in a while, and
it seemed Abe missed him each time. There was a day of reckoning.
Abe could feel it in his gut. He’d known it since that night he was
ten. Somehow, someway, he knew there was a day coming when the
tables would be turned, and he’d be the one pointing the rifle at
Gene.