“Oh no, I wouldn’t want you to go to the expense of sending a telegram for me. Surely a letter would do.”
“But a letter could take weeks to get an answer by the time it goes all the way there and then we await a reply. Wouldn’t you want to hear back as soon as possible?”
What was there for her to do but nod in agreement? Sybil was experienced at managing Horace. If he was of a mind to give her trouble, Sybil knew how to wind him round her finger. But despite that knowledge, Ella hated the thought of being the cause of any more trouble for her friend. Even less though did she have any wish to explain all that to her husband.
It was surprising to her just how solicitous Carter was being over her welfare. There were times she thought the man distrusted her. And he didn’t seem to care too much for her company, absenting himself so often as he had over the past couple days. But now here he was offering to take her to the mercantile and the telegraph station. Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps she was allowing her past experiences to color her current ones. She really ought not be so suspicious of people. She ought to view this as the fresh start it truly was and start fresh in her dealings with people. Even her husband had made somewhat of an effort to get to know her, asking her questions about what would make her feel more at home. She ought to afford him the same courtesy.
“So, what made you want to move way out here?”
Carter looked surprised by her sudden question and as though he didn’t have a ready answer, which surprised her. She would have thought it would be a question he had answered many times.
“I didn’t care for the superficiality of life in the city.”
Ella couldn’t very well fault him for that. “I can appreciate the sentiment.”
Carter’s eyebrows remained elevated, showing his surprise over her agreement. She felt compelled to add, “Everyone is so sweet and polite to your face but then happy to gossip about you behind your back.”
“Exactly.”
“But how did you pick here? Why not further west or not quite so far west?”
Carter grinned at her persistent questioning.
“I stopped in several places. And I worked for others for a time, to learn the way of things. When I was settling out here, large tracts of land could be had for barely more than putting your name on a piece of paper. When I found this spot, with its fertile soil, bounteous trees, and spectacular views, I knew I had found home. The readily available water and reasonable nearness to villages and towns also held appeal. And there were already rumors that the train would be coming through, so I knew the land would retain great value.”
“You showed great foresight, then.”
“My father is a businessman. Some of his instruction must have taken root in my head at some point,” Carter answered with a sheepish grin.
“You are being modest. It is obvious you have worked hard and done well for yourself. You must be proud of what you have accomplished.”
Carter shrugged, not agreeing with her words.
“Your father must be proud of you,” she observed.
“Not especially. He wanted me to stay in Boston and take over his business, alongside my brother. He doesn’t have any interest in what I’m doing out here since it is not what he had ordained for my life. My father does not like to be denied.”
Ella grinned. “My father was very similar. But in the end, he’s no longer here to try to enforce his wishes.” Her grin felt forced. Thoughts of her father now carried bitter undertones. She didn’t want Carter pursuing the thought so she hurried to turn the topic.
“How big is the village we’ll be visiting? Are there many businesses and residences? Are we likely to meet many people?” While a part of Ella longed to meet people and potentially make some friends, she lived in dread of encountering anyone who might know of her disgrace.
“It’s a good size for a village. Besides the mercantile, there’s a rooming house, the blacksmith, the postal station, which also holds the telegraph. You won’t lack for places to visit, I don’t think. It’s no Boston, of course, but we can get most things.”
“Oh, I’m not concerned. It seems you already have most everything right here.”
He offered her a smile as she rose to begin clearing the table from their breakfast. “I’ll head out to speak with Brent and get the wagon ready. There’s no need for you to rush but just come out when you’re prepared.”
Despite her misgivings, Ella couldn’t help being excited at the thought of getting out of the house she hadn’t left since her arrival; she used to be a gadabout in Boston. “I won’t be long.”
It didn’t take her many minutes to clean up the few dishes they had used. She checked in the looking glass to ensure her hair was reasonably tidy even though she realized that the ride in the wagon was sure to displace it. Ella remembered the bonnets some of the women had been wearing when she arrived at the train station. She didn’t own anything quite that practical. She had thought, when she had first seen them, that they were rather unattractive, but now, remembering what a tangle her hair was when she had finally arrived on Carter’s land, her opinion was turned on the voluminous head coverings. If she could acquire one for herself, she would jump at the chance. And wouldn’t Sybil just laugh if she could ever see her with one of those on her head, she thought with a slight pang. She pushed the thought from her mind. It would not do to become homesick. This was her home now. Sybil was a friend from her past. Yes, she was the closest thing Ella had to family, but they would stay in touch through letters. Ella’s new life required her thoughts and attention. She needed to keep her focus on the bright side. She was Ella McLain now. A new life full of opportunities spread before her. ~~~
Carter tried not to let his guilt bother him as they rode toward the village. His wife’s eager questions over breakfast had made him feel like a cad. She was trying to draw him out, most likely with the intention of drawing closer to him, and here he was filled with suspicions about her and trying to learn about her behind her back. Just like the Boston gossips they had spoken about. His guilty feelings were making him reticent. She had asked a few more questions as they rode along, seeming a little bit nervous about the upcoming visit to the village. He should have been reassuring her. But he had no idea how to do so. And his suspicions were seriously interfering.
Stifling a sigh, he noticed she had grown quiet when he didn’t have anything to say in return. But her bright gaze was still darting around with interest. Despite his misgivings about her, he was pleased to see intelligence shining in her eyes. He hadn’t thought it was a requirement in a wife, but he now realized it should have been. There would be long hours to fill over the winter. If they could have reasonable, intelligent conversations, it would certainly make the time more enjoyable. And it would bode well for any children they might be blessed with, too. He felt his face heating with the direction of his thoughts as his mind filled with his guilt once more. Here he was filled with suspicion about her, but he was thinking of having children with her. Clearly he was misguided. He was now all the more eager to reach the village. Hopefully there would be a response from Fred.
Carter was relieved when they went over the rise and the village came into view. He heard Ella’s breath catch and turned to look in his wife’s direction. She was obviously excited about seeing Traders Point. She cast him a smile before returning her eager gaze back to the collection of buildings that was growing before them. Turning his own gaze back toward the village, Carter tried to see it from her perspective.
It was obviously much different than Boston, but since she had been willing to leave the city, that might not necessarily be a bad thing. The dull gray of all the buildings was uninspiring, but everything was well kept and tidy despite the dirt road and clapboard of each structure. He glanced at her again. She didn’t look upset or disappointed. She did look nervous, if he was correctly interpreting the expression on her face. He wondered why but didn’t feel he could ask her. He turned his own attention back
to the village. While it wasn’t Boston, it would do; he was certain of it. There was nothing for him to be ashamed of in what he could provide his wife. Which was all the more reason for him to be certain he could be proud of his wife. Everything on the surface told him he ought to be, but he needed to settle his nagging questions. If Fred hadn’t sent a message, Carter would have to question Ella himself. It was not a prospect he would look forward to, but they needed to get on with their lives, and he wouldn’t be able to without his questions settled.
~~~
Ella tried to sit still, but it was almost impossible. She would have never thought she was a greedy, materialistic person. As evidence, she could point to how easily she accepted it when the investigators came in and took everything her family had owned. But here she was practically giddy at the thought of visiting the mercantile. She tried to restrain her eagerness. It was sure to be a disappointment in comparison to anything she had experienced in Boston. Undeterred, her eyes couldn’t stop darting around, excited to take in everything there was to see as they approached the small cluster of buildings.
It was obvious the people of the village cared for it. Despite not being of brick and cobblestone, everything was neat and tidy. Even in Boston, Ella had driven through neighborhoods strewn with litter, where things were falling apart, despite the houses being built of bricks. She was happy to see that it looked as though the area was thriving despite being so far from the centers of the East.
And it hadn’t taken so very long to get to the village. Perhaps, once she had settled in, Carter would allow her to visit on her own if she needed to make any purchases or if she managed to make some friends she could visit. Once again Ella felt her spirits lifting. She had made the right decision when she had accepted Fred and Sybil’s suggestion that she marry a stranger by proxy. Ella turned to that stranger with a grin. Her grin grew when she realized how surprised he seemed by her wide smile. She had no explanation for him so she just turned back and anticipated their approach to a mid-sized gray barn at the edge of the cluster of buildings that was the main street of the village.
“We’ll leave the wagon here with the smithy while we’re in the village. He doesn’t mind if the horse grazes a little, and the horse will be happier here than tied to a railing by the mercantile.”
“That’s considerate of you,” Ella commented.
Carter laughed. “Considerate of the horse, not of you.”
Ella laughed with him. “Why do you say that?”
“If you buy too much, you’ll have to help me carry it back to the wagon.”
Ella felt the color rising in her cheeks. “I have no intention of buying much, I assure you.”
“You have so little, you better reserve your judgment until you see what the mercantile has. You might just realize how much you need.”
Ella held her tongue despite her intense desire to defend herself. After everything she had and lost, she strongly doubted she would ever again have trouble restraining herself while shopping. Her parents had always insisted on buying her the best of everything. She realized she had been spoiled up until six months ago. But no longer. She doubted anything the mercantile held would be a temptation to her. She returned Carter’s gaze with a tight smile.
Chapter Eleven
C arter was well aware that he had misspoken in some way with her, but wasn’t sure what he had said wrong. She hadn’t said anything, but he had noticed when her smile dimmed and her eyes flitted away from meeting his gaze. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. He heaved a sigh. He would do his best to make it up to her once he had his answers.
He didn’t bother acknowledging the awkward moment, merely offering her his elbow and escorting her to the front door of the mercantile.
“Take all the time you want looking around. I have to do something first, and then I’ll come back and join you.”
“Thank you,” she answered softly as she let go of his arm and stepped slowly toward the open doorway.
Carter felt like he ought to wait for her to get settled in the store, but he also didn’t want to leave her on her own for too long, so he figured he ought to get on with his business at the telegraph office. With one more glance toward his wife, he hurried away to see if there were any messages for him.
The last sight of her lingered in his mind as he made his way to the post office. The expression on her face had been wistful as her gaze bounced around the large store. He rather thought she was surprised by the variety of things for sale at the mercantile. Even he was surprised sometimes by what was available for purchase at the store so far from a big city. The shopkeeper was obviously imaginative as he made his orders for what he would carry. Carter hoped Ella would find some things that would please her. While he couldn’t quite trust her, he wanted her to be happy with her choice to come out West to a new life with him.
Carter shook his head. He was contradicting himself with each thought. He picked up his pace, hoping there was a message from Fred. His long strides ate up the distance in short order and before too many moments had passed, he was standing at the counter in the post office asking if there were any messages.
“Yes, Mr. McLain, your message has finally arrived.”
Carter could barely contain himself as he snatched the sheaf of paper out of the man’s hand. “Thank you,” he muttered as he hurried from the office. He had noticed a bench on the way there and wanted a private place to read the note from Fred. He sank down onto the bench and his eyes scanned the few words on the page. It wasn’t much of a message, and he would have to puzzle out its meaning, but he appreciated that Fred was obviously trying for discretion.
Ask to see the license.
Read Boston papers from winter/spring 1865.
That was all it said. At first Carter was confused and wondered what Fred was trying to tell him. While he appreciated his friend’s discretion, a little more information would have been useful. He scanned the words again, and he finally realized what the other man was trying to get across. The license. There must be something on the marriage license. Like his wife’s maiden name. He wanted to smack his own head to get some sense into it. He didn’t even know his wife’s name, now that he thought of it. Or at least what her name had been before she married him. Maybe Ella wasn’t even her proper name.
Carter wasn’t sure how he would be able to get his hands on the Boston papers from last year, but they would probably have copies of them in Town. Or maybe just finding out his wife’s name would tell him some of what he wanted to know. He usually kept himself fairly well informed of what was happening in the world around him, particularly what took place in the bigger Metropolises of Boston and New York. He would ask her when they got home. Really, he should have asked her for the license right away. It had been a thoughtless oversight on his part.
~~~
Ella enjoyed the strong smell of the mercantile. There were several competing spices floating in the air. She wouldn’t have thought it would be pleasant, but it was. Taking a few deep, appreciative breaths, Ella wondered if she should experiment with some of the different spices. Cook hadn’t used much other than salt and onions in her few cooking lessons, but maybe once the recipes arrived and she felt a little more confident, she could try to cook something with some of these delicious smelling seasonings.
For the time being though, she didn’t want to ask Carter to buy anything other than the material he had promised her. Everything else could wait. When he had commented on her desire to buy out the store, Ella had been mortified. It was as if he knew who she was. It made her want to run and hide. Of course, it wasn’t possible that he could know about her past, but she was determined not to be a financial burden on him. Material for curtains was why she was in the mercantile, and that was really all she ought to be looking at, she reminded herself as she strode across the store toward where she could see many bolts in various textures and colors.
The store had a greater variety of fabrics than she would have expected. It would b
e a harder decision than she had thought. She had been anticipating at most three or four options. It would have been easy had that been the case. Now she thought longingly of the stylish décor of her old home. Pushing such thoughts from her mind, she reached out to finger the most practical looking bolt of fabric she could see.
Ella was just about to seek help from the shopkeeper when she was surprised to hear someone speaking to her.
“Mrs. McLain? Is that you?”
Blinking, Ella turned to see who was calling to her and felt a wide smile spread over her face. It was the woman she had met while eating at the hotel the first day she had arrived.
“Hello. How are you? I didn’t think there would be a single soul I might know in this village. How fortuitous.”
Disdain seemed to fill the other woman’s face for a moment before she smoothed her expression into one of pleasant inquiry. Ella assumed she must have been mistaken. The expression was there and gone in barely a blink of the eye. And there was no reason for the woman to look at her in such a way. So Ella must have imagined it. Maybe her own nerves about all the changes in her life were getting to her. She mentally shrugged.
“Isn’t it just?” The other woman’s smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.
Ella could feel her own smile slipping. There was no way around it; the woman before her was being fake. Ella had endured her fill of such shallow relationships back in Boston. She really didn’t want to engage in one now, but she also didn’t want to bring trouble for herself or Carter. Speaking of him, she wished he would return. Since he already knew the woman, perhaps her strange demeanor had something to do with him.
“Are you here spending Carter’s money already?”
The woman’s sneer made Ella’s face flame. It was her biggest fear. It was the worst accusation that could be levelled at her. She had vowed she would never again be associated with greed. It was why she had assured Carter she only wanted curtain fabric. She should have known better and stayed away from the mercantile. The stench of money must still be following her, despite having left everything behind.
A Bride For Carter (The Proxy Brides Book 6) Page 9
