A Bride For Carter (The Proxy Brides Book 6)

by Wendy May Andrews

  Ella shrugged. “That would be true even if we were both born, raised, and stayed in the same area. You being a man would give you a different perspective and set of experiences than I would have.”

  Carter nodded, deep in thought, as though he were struck by her words. But then his gaze flew to her, and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve gone and turned the subject, and I still know nothing about you.”

  Ella laughed, although she could hear for herself that it sounded forced. “I’m sorry, I just went with the flow of the conversation.”

  “You’re still doing it.” Carter blew out a frustrated breath. “Tell me about your family.”

  “I am an orphan, I’m afraid to say. I was an only child. My parents doted on me. But they died very suddenly six months ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. You’ve taken on a great deal of changes, then, this year. Was that wise?”

  Ella smiled, hoping it didn’t look like the grimace it felt to be, and shrugged. It wasn’t as though she were given a great deal of choice in the matter.

  “My parents’ death forced change on me. This arrangement seemed to be the best of my options. And I truly was happy to leave Boston behind. I didn’t make this decision lightly, or on a whim, if that is what concerns you. I took advisement from close friends, and we all agreed this had the potential of providing me with a much better future than staying in Boston held for me.”

  “And now that you’ve arrived, do you still feel the same way?”

  Ella couldn’t tell if he was just curious or actually looking for reassurance. She dismissed the ludicrous idea. The handsome, rugged man certainly didn’t lack for confidence. It’s not as though he needed any sort of comfort from her.

  “I have yet to see anything to greatly change my mind on the matter,” she said with a smile. It was the truth. While she had been disconcerted by how handsome the man was, everything that she had seen so far about him was reassuring rather than off putting. And while the house was in desperate need of a few feminine touches to make it feel like a home, they were not things she could take umbrage with. All in all, she had feared going into the unknown situation and had dreaded the potential hazards. So far, she hadn’t seen anything to cause her alarm, but to the contrary, she was feeling reassured by everything she had seen thus far.

  Chapter Seven

  C arter was entertained as he watched emotions flit across his wife’s face. He was coming to realize that she was the furthest thing from a chatterbox he had ever met in the female form. Coming from Boston, he had expected her to be hard to silence rather than hard to initiate conversation with. But from what he could tell so far, it didn’t really seem like a deliberate attempt to keep something from him specifically, but rather a deep seated attempt to keep to herself, isolated and independent. He would have to try a little harder.

  But knowing she was an orphan explained a few things. Perhaps she didn’t have any means of support after the death of her father, although she had mentioned seeking advice from some trusted friends. After they ate, he would set off to the village to send his wire to Fred. He berated himself for not thinking of it earlier. He could have had the information before she even arrived.

  “How do you like your eggs?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Do you like the yellow part to be runny or not?”

  Carter blinked at her. He’d never thought of it before. He always just cooked them. They turned out how they turned out.

  “Uh, can it be a little of both?” He grinned thinking he had stumped her, but she simply nodded.

  When she placed the plate in front of him he was surprised to see how well prepared everything seemed. Even the toast was the perfect light brown that he personally loved but found hard to achieve. For someone who claimed not to have much cooking knowledge, she had done an excellent job. His suspicions began to resurface.

  “I have chores to do this evening, before dark. You’ll have plenty to keep you occupied, won’t you?”

  He didn’t understand the blank expression on her face that immediately followed his question, but she promptly nodded and answered, “Of course,” so he didn’t think too much about it.

  After swallowing back his last bite of the delicious meal, along with his last sip of the coffee, he got to his feet and prepared to depart.

  “That was much better than I had expected, thank you.”

  She appeared amused by his words but accepted them with a nod and a smile. Carter realized his compliment was rather backhanded and felt chagrined.

  “I meant you no insult, ma’am. I just thought from you saying you weren’t very experienced that it would be a mite worse than it was.”

  Her amusement deepened. “I’m glad it turned out. I’ll be practising on you over the next while.”

  Carter could feel color rising in his cheeks. He was just making it worse. He jammed his hat on his head and left without saying anything else. He didn’t want to tell her where he was going, and trying to say anything else was just making him feel increasingly awkward.

  Brent raised his eyebrows when he saw Carter leading his horse out of its stall. “You leaving your bride behind so soon?”

  “Something I need to do in the village.”

  Brent grinned. “She have you jumping to her demands already?”

  “Nope.” Carter wasn’t going to start explaining himself at this moment, even if he could’ve explained it. He could barely understand his motivations himself.

  He was glad his horse knew the way because most of Carter’s mind was occupied with trying to figure out how to word his questions so as to not provide too much gossip for the village but to get as much information as possible from Fred.

  Package arrived

  Need more information

  Write if too private for wire

  It wasn’t perfect, but it would get the point across, he was sure. Carter sighed. He hoped so anyway. It had been years since he’d seen Fred in person. They had been boyhood friends, growing up in the same Boston neighborhood and even being sent to the same boarding school when they were in their early teens. They had gone to different universities but had remained friends, visiting each other’s campus and spending time with each other’s families. He trusted Fred, despite the fact that they had gone in drastically different directions with their lives since reaching adulthood.

  Fred should’ve known to provide the needed information without him needing to ask, Carter thought, starting to feel a little peevish as he rode back toward his house. But then his suspicions kicked in again. Maybe he had sent a message through his wife and she had not been forthcoming with it. He resolved to ask her as soon as he returned home.

  Riding into the yard, Carter felt his usual pride puff up his chest as he observed all that was his. He wasn’t trying to be egotistical on the matter, but considered he deserved to be proud of what he had accomplished from more than a decade of hard, laborious work. And now he had a wife to share it with. He grinned. A beautiful wife. But a wife he couldn’t trust. This brought him back down to earth quickly and he jumped down from his horse and led it into the barn to be brushed and stabled.

  Making quick work of his chores and after checking with Brent and the other men, Carter was able to make his way into the house just as the sun made its final splash of light as it descended behind the trees.

  The house was filled with the most delicious scent it had ever contained in its short life. Carter couldn’t place his finger on what exactly he was smelling but he took deep, appreciative sniffs as he unlaced his boots.

  “Hello?” he called out, not seeing his wife and not wanting to startle her by appearing unexpectedly.

  She poked her head out from the larder. He hadn’t noticed that the door there was ajar.

  “Hello,” she answered softly. “Are you finished with your chores for the day?”

  “I am,” he said without going into detail about where he’d been.

  “Are you nearly ready to eat? I sh
ould have asked you what time you normally have your evening meal. We had our lunch so late, I wasn’t sure if you would want a big meal or not. So I made a little bit of everything, I’m afraid.”

  She was babbling, much to Carter’s surprise. It seemed like the most words she had strung together in his presence since her arrival. He couldn’t restrain his grin but tried not to tease her.

  “I’m not ravenous, but I could definitely eat. This is a perfect time, most days. I like to take advantage of the light and get as much done out of doors as possible. And if I’m near home, I prefer the bigger meal of the day to be around noon, so it’s perfect if you have a lighter meal prepared now.”

  He was startled to see how relieved she seemed by his words. She seemed to be a nervous little thing. Carter wondered about it. What would make a beautiful, articulate woman so insecure? He supposed her sudden changes of circumstances wouldn’t contribute to a sense of security.

  He tried to be offhanded as he asked her, “Did Fred by any chance send me any messages with you?”

  Her confusion appeared to be genuine as she replied. “No, were you expecting him to?”

  Carter shrugged. “Not really, I was just wondering. I haven’t heard from him in ages.”

  Her confusion did not lighten. “Did you know him prior to your dealings in connection with your search for a wife?”

  Carter grinned again. “We grew up around each other. My mother worked in his house before my father struck it rich. She died working too hard. But we became friends and went to school together. Did he not tell you anything?”

  She shook her head. “Apparently not.”

  “And you didn’t ask?”

  She shook her head again. “Apparently not the right questions, anyway.”

  “What did you ask him?” By now he had washed his hands and wiped his face on a towel and had taken his seat at the table, waiting patiently as she served up what looked to be a delicious meal.

  Now she looked embarrassed. “I asked him for a description of you so I would be able to find you when I arrived.”

  Carter chuckled. Her tone lead him to believe the description had been less than accurate. “How did he describe me?”

  “He said you were tall with brown hair,” she said, sounding even more disgruntled.

  “Well that’s true,” he said, wondering what the problem could possibly be. “I was afraid you were going to say he had told you something ridiculous like that I have orange hair and stand five feet tall.”

  His wife looked confused by his words. “Why would you have thought that?”

  “It was just the sort of sense of humor he had back when we were boys.” He waved away any comment she might have made and hurried on with another question. “I must ask, then, if his description wasn’t so bad, why did you sound as though it was wrong.”

  He found the huffy expression on her face amusing but he tried to stifle it, instinctively realising she would not appreciate thinking he was laughing at her.

  “It may have been accurate on the surface. Yes, you are tall, and yes, your hair is brown, but it also described at least half of the men in the town we were in!”

  Carter chuckled. “I can see what you mean when you put it like that. Well how would you have described me, if you were Fred, so that you could have distinguished me from all the others?”

  He was intrigued by the bright red color that splashed across her cheekbones at his question. Even more amusing was her stuttering attempt to answer him.

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t possibly know how Fred would have described you, as I’m beginning to realize that perhaps men look at these things a bit differently. But if I was the one arranging for you to meet up with an acquaintance of mine, I would be sure to tell you a distinguishing feature or an item of clothing that would mark you as different.”

  “Well, what would have set me apart from everyone else?” He wasn’t sure why he persisted except that her obvious reluctance increased his curiosity. “I rather think I was dressed like everyone else besides being tall and brown haired.”

  She was silent for much longer than he would have thought necessary to answer what ought to be a simple question. When she finally spoke, even her neck was turning red. He started to be concerned for her health.

  “You had the bluest eyes there. The bluest I’ve ever seen. That would have been a useful piece of information.”

  Carter grunted, slightly taken aback by her reply. “Why was that so hard to say? I don’t really examine myself that carefully, but I dare say you’re right about my eyes. I used to get teased something fierce about them when I was growing up.”

  She tried to squirm away from answering his questions but he admired her fidelity when she squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye and answered him. It was apparent her truthfulness cost her a measure of comfort.

  “No one would tease you about them now, I dare say. You are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. That’s how I would have described you to someone meeting you for the first time.” The laugh she uttered displayed all her obvious nervousness. “But it’s probably not what men would say, though, is it?”

  Carter tried not to let her words go straight to his ego, but it was a difficult thing. He could feel his chest expanding with her words. “You think I’m handsome?”

  Her face must hurt, he thought, with how red it’s burning. She was obviously finished with difficult truths. She brushed her hands down her skirts and moved around the room restlessly. She didn’t answer his question.

  “Might I ask, what should I know about the coming days? What do you expect of me? Am I to cook for your men? Or just you and me? And are there any other chores you expect me to do, besides looking after the house and food?”

  Carter blinked. He hadn’t been prepared for her sudden turn of topic. “How about we ease into things as we go along?”

  He didn’t really like the skeptical expression on her face. Her lips compressed as though she were holding back her words. He wished she would just tell him what was on her mind. Carter sighed. He supposed if he didn’t trust her, it wasn’t likely that she could be expected to trust him.

  It wasn’t long before they retired for the night. Carter doubted he would be able to sleep but he needed to rest at the very least. There was much that needed to be done the next day and he needed as many of his faculties about him as he could manage.

  He was consumed with pondering about the woman across the hallway. Carter certainly hoped Fred would get back to him as quickly as possible, but he didn’t think he could go to the village every day without raising suspicions in his wife. Not that she seemed to be an overly nosy female. Maybe he could. Because he certainly couldn’t settle until he had more information.

  Chapter Eight

  E lla stared into the darkness. Or rather into the gloom. It wasn’t nearly as dark as she was used to at night here with the uncovered windows. The moon was nearly full and cast bright light into the room, creating startling shadows. She closed her eyes to block out the eerie sights. With all the thoughts whirling through her head, she was already going to have a difficult enough time getting to sleep; she didn’t need to compound the problem by scaring herself out of her wits with gazing about at creepy shadows.

  With a sigh, Ella flopped onto her other side, bunching her pillow under her ear, trying to find a comfortable position. She ought to be sleeping like a baby since the bed was far more comfortable than she had expected, and she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days, but the oblivion of slumber evaded her.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Ella tried counting, focusing her thoughts on steadying her breathing, trying not to think about her husband’s high, strong cheekbones, clear, blue eyes, and the tuft of dark hair that kept tumbling over his eyebrow, tempting her fingers to reach up and push it out of his line of sight. And his voice! Whenever he spoke it caused shivers to shimmy up her spine and gooseflesh to break out on her arms. She was being ridiculous. Ella attempted to rein in her thoug
hts once more, resuming her counting and deep breathing.

  Thankfully, the long day and her exhaustion finally caught up to her and she was pulled under into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  The bright sunlight streaming through her uncovered window woke Ella early the next morning. She stretched and yawned, of two minds about facing the new day. She was anxious to get on with starting her new life, but she was apprehensive about facing her new husband, uncertain of his expectations. Never one to dawdle, Ella pulled herself from the comfortable bed and got on with the day.

  After a mostly silent meal of fried eggs and what turned out to be the last of the bread, Ella hoped she was doing it right as she started the bread making process before she went out to wander around the yard. Thankfully, it was one of the lessons Sybil’s cook had covered, but Ella wasn’t feeling terribly confident in her ability to successfully replicate the light and airy bread Cook had produced.

  “Good day, ma’am.”

  Ella almost turned to see who the man was addressing but realized it was her just before embarrassing herself.

  “Good morning,” she replied, wondering who the slightly scruffy young man was.

  “I’m Brent, the foreman of this spread.”

  Ella stuck her hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you, Brent. I’m Ella.” She didn’t elaborate on her name. It would probably be disrespectful toward her husband if she used her maiden name, but she wasn’t yet comfortable with the thought of identifying herself as a McLain. She suddenly recalled he had told her he didn’t want the men to be overly familiar with her, but it was too late now.

  Her dilemma must’ve been displayed on her face because the foreman grinned but he didn’t say anything, merely lifting his hat slightly and acknowledging her words with another polite, “ma’am.” Ella could feel her color rising. She didn’t feel like a ma’am but she supposed she was and would have to accept it. She couldn’t be expecting anyone to call her miss, and she supposed she was just as glad to leave her maiden name behind. She had adored her parents, but now their name only brought her trouble.