The Convenient Mail Order Bride (17 page)

“This is a beautiful territory,” the
preacher began, “though it does have its hardships. I’ve seen my
share of tragedy.” He sighed for a moment, as if reliving one or
two events from his past. But then he smiled again and continued,
“I’ve also seen some miracles. Not all of them are big ones. Most
are small. So small, in fact, it’d be easy to mistake them for
common occurrences.”

Phoebe placed the cups in front of them.

She was ready to bring them their slices of
pie when the preacher made eye contact with her and said, “Abe
getting married was nothing short of a miracle. That poor man
hasn’t had anyone who’s cared anything about him since his ma died
five years ago. He lost his uncle when he was only ten. It was just
him and his ma after that, and she was weak so he had to grow up
fast and take over the care of this place. It’ll be nice for him to
have someone to help him.” He smiled at Phoebe. “Don’t let him fool
you. He wouldn’t have married you if he didn’t want to. There’s no
making Abe do anything he doesn’t want to. I don’t care how much
someone argues with him. That boy is as stubborn as a mule.”

“It’s because he’s stubborn that he’s
managed out here as well as he has,” her mother said after she took
a sip of her coffee.

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledged. “It’s the
only way anyone can stick it out this far from civilization. This
kind of life isn’t for the faint of heart, I’ll tell you that. You
two are brave ladies to be out here.”

“I don’t know if being brave has anything to
do with it,” her mother said. “We had no money, and my son was
struggling to make ends meet. Phoebe answered a mail-order bride ad
to find someone who could support us. When we first came here, we
thought we’d made the trip for nothing. It turned out another
person posted that mail-order bride ad on Abe’s behalf, and Abe
didn’t know about it.”

The preacher glanced over at Phoebe as she
set the plates full of pie and forks in front of him and her
mother. “Why would someone do that?”

Since he seemed to be asking her the
question, Phoebe answered, “I think it was so Abe would stop
arguing with Carl Richie about the stream over there.” She pointed
in the direction of the stream and land. “I suppose Carl thought
Abe would have more important things to worry about if my mother
and I were here.”

“Well,” he began as he picked up his fork,
“sometimes when man does something out of selfishness, God turns it
around for good.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about this
whole thing,” Phoebe’s mother said. “Nothing happens by
accident.”

“No, it doesn’t. You two are here for Abe,
and I have no doubt you’ll be good for him. Every man, no matter
how strong he thinks he is, needs people in his life who can accept
him as he is.”

Phoebe’s gaze went back to the window. Abe
was still in the barn. She had a nagging suspicion he was going to
stay in there until the preacher left. And that was his right. He
wasn’t the type who easily welcomed people into his life, and given
what she knew, she couldn’t blame him. She only hoped, in time, he
would allow himself the freedom to love her.

Chapter Sixteen

“W
hat are you doing here?” Abe asked that evening after he
opened his bedroom door.

Phoebe was sorting through a small pile of
clothes she’d brought into his room. For the moment, the pile was
gathered on the dresser.

This, however, wasn’t the worst of it. She
was wearing nothing but a nightshirt that reached her knees. He’d
never seen so much of a woman’s legs in his life, and he’d have to
be dead not to let his gaze linger on them. Bringing his gaze up,
he was aware the lack of layers only emphasized the curve of her
breasts.

He blinked and forced his attention to a far
more pressing matter, which happened to be the fact she was moving
into his bedroom, the only safe place he had in this cabin.

“Why aren’t you in your room?” he asked.

“We’re married,” Phoebe said in the same
matter-of-fact tone she’d used earlier that day in the barn. She
took one of the dresses and turned to the armoire. “This is my room
now.”

“I thought I made it clear we aren’t doing
anything.” He gestured to the bed when she glanced at him. “In
there.”

“You did. I know we’re not doing anything
tonight.”

“Not just tonight. I
mean,
ever
.”

“No, it’s just until you feel confident I
can do everything that’s required of me to stay here.” She hung up
another dress. “Nothing can happen between us tonight anyway. The
lady’s time is upon me.”

It took him a moment to realize she meant
she was on her monthly cycle. “Well, even when you’re done with it,
we’re not doing anything.”

“Not right away.”

He fought back the urge to groan. What was
wrong with her? Did it really please her to argue with him?

“I can’t sleep in the other bedroom,” she
added. “My mother will ask questions, and I’d rather not answer
them. I know we made a deal, but I don’t feel like explaining it to
her.”

As much as he wanted to keep arguing, he
couldn’t. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to tell her mother
what they’d agreed to. It was complicated enough without dragging
an innocent party into it. But still…

“What are you going to tell her when things
don’t work out, and you head on out of here?” he asked.

“That’s not going to happen,” she replied.
“So, you see, telling her anything would be pointless anyway.”

She turned to face him as if daring him to
argue with her, but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t. When she
had turned to him, she’d given him a much better view of her
breasts, which were barely concealed under the thin fabric of her
nightshirt. And worse, he could make out the tips of her
nipples.

“Well, if you’re going to sleep in here, I’m
going to sleep in the loft,” he finally decided.

Her eyes grew wide. “That doesn’t make any
sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said as he
grabbed a fresh pair of undergarments and shirt.

Lady’s time of month or not, she couldn’t
expect him to keep his hands off of her if she was in bed with him.
Drifting off to sleep in the loft was one thing. She’d been fully
dressed, and it’d been an accident. This was on purpose, and she
was practically naked. She probably had no idea what effect she was
having on him, but he was only human and could only handle so
much.

“Are you going to spend every night in the
loft?” she asked.

“Yep, until you’re on the stagecoach.”

Ignoring her bewildered expression, he left
the room and headed out for the barn. At least the night was a
chilly one. That should go a long way in cooling his ardor. He had
to show her just how hard life was out here. The sooner he did, the
easier things would be.

***

Right after breakfast the next morning, Abe
wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin then set it on the table.
Looking at Phoebe, he asked, “Are you ready to set a trap?” before
Phoebe had a chance to pick up anything to help her mother wash the
dishes.

“Set the trap?” Phoebe replied.

“You said you were willing to learn how to
do it.”

Noting the challenge in his eyes, she said,
“I wasn’t trying to back out of doing it. I just thought I’d help
my ma clean up first.” She motioned to the dirty dishes.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” her mother spoke up. “I
can do these. You go on and set the trap.”

“Alright.” Phoebe headed for the bedroom she
now shared with Abe, but she stopped and glanced at him. “I’m going
to braid my hair so it doesn’t get in my way,” she told him before
he could think she was going to do something like crawl out the
window and hide.

Since he didn’t reply, she figured she’d
made her point and went to the bedroom. It was going to take more
than a simple trap to intimidate her. Once she had her hair
braided, she came back out, surprised he’d taken the time to take
the dishes over to the sink so her mother could wash them.

She bit her tongue and waited until they
left the cabin before saying, “For someone who’s eager to get rid
of me, you’re being awfully nice to my mother.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand what your
mother has to do with this.”

“My mother has everything to do with this. I
refused to leave her behind in Ohio because I can’t imagine my life
without her. One of my requirements in marrying was that my husband
be good to her.”

He snorted. “I’m not going to treat your
mother badly. I don’t need to. Once you see how difficult this life
is, you’ll be out of here.”

She decided to let his comment go. He was
determined things would play out this way, and arguing about it
would accomplish nothing. Abe was the kind of person who needed to
see it to believe it. And she’d show it to him.

When they arrived in the barn, he grabbed a
folded up blanket, a pair of gloves, a handheld digging tool, and a
small trap. “Open your arms,” he said.

Surprised, she did as he requested and he
dumped everything in them.

“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to
do all of it. I won’t be doing anything but telling you what to
do.”

“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want you to make it
too easy,” she quipped, refusing to let him deter her. “I’m likely
to get bored if there’s not enough challenge.” She headed out of
the barn then asked, “Will we be going to the spot you put your
trap the other day?”

“No. You’ll be doing this with unused
ground. That’s why you’re taking that trowel.”

“Trowel?”

He pointed to the handheld digging tool.

“Is that what you call it?” she asked,
surprised. “I thought it was a little shovel.”

She noted his lips curl up into a smile
despite his attempt to look serious. “I suppose that works, too,”
he said.

For the rest of their trek up into the
trees, they were quiet until he came to a large tree stump.

He turned to her and gestured for her to put
everything down. “You can set the trap here.”

“We’re on an incline,” she replied.

“Yes, but we’re also along a frequented
trail. See the animal prints? They go in a line down through
here.”

She followed his gaze and saw that, sure
enough, there were prints along the path. “I didn’t notice those
around the traps you set. Were they there, too?”

“Yes. You’ll have to start paying attention
to details if you’re going to live here.”

With a nod, she put the things on the
ground. “What do I do first?”

“First you put down the blanket.”

She inspected it, suddenly noticing the dirt
on it. “Hmm…”

“‘
Hmm’ what?”

“It’s filthy,” she said.

“I rub it in the leaves and dirt to hide my
scent when I use it. In this case, we’ll be masking your
scent.”

“I have a scent?” she asked, not sure if she
believed him or not. For all she knew, he could be teasing her.

“Every living thing has a scent, even
people. You can smell some white men in town a mile away from the
alcohol on their breaths. But it’s more pleasant to smell women,
especially ones like…”

Since he stopped, she encouraged him to
continue. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he blushed a little
as he waved her question aside.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s
important is that you sit on that blanket when you set the
trap.”

Realizing she wasn’t going to get her
answer, she unfolded the blanket and set it on the ground.
Afterwards, she turned to him. “Now what?”

“Put on the gloves.”

She did and quickly realized they were too
big for her.

“If you actually end up staying, I’ll get
you a pair better suited for you.”

“Oh good. I want mine to be pink,” she joked
and knelt on the blanket. “I’m guessing this is where I put the
trap down?”

“Not yet.”

He knelt next to her, and she couldn’t help
but note how close they were. Recalling his comment on how people
had their own scent, she noticed he had a nice smell about him. He
smelled rugged, just like the outdoors. Now whenever she smelled
this particular scent, she’d think of him.

“Dig a hole big enough to put this trap in.”
He lifted the trap and set it down in front of her to show her how
big it should be. “After you dig it, you’ll set the trap then put
it in the hole. After that, you’ll cover it up with the leaves and
dirt you dug up.”

That sounded simple enough. Moving aside the
trap, she dug the hole, careful to put the dirt, leaves and small
twigs to the side for easy access. When she was done, she put the
trowel down and peered up at him.

“Are you going to show me how to set the
trap, or do I need to figure that out myself?” she asked.