Mail Order Matilda (Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies Book 18)

by Margaret Tanner

  That made sense. It was disquieting to know he knew more about babies than her, yet somewhat comforting.

  “You’ll probably need to change her diaper.” He grimaced. “Babies are forever wetting and soiling themselves.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She caressed the baby’s head with a trembling hand. “I’ve never had anything to do with babies before.”

  “Yeah, well you’re lucky she isn’t tiny, you’d have to be feeding her milk every few hours day and night.”

  “You had to do that?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “That isn’t fair.”

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” It might have been a long time, yet it had left him emotionally scarred.

  “While we have supper, you could put a blanket on the floor and let her kick around.”

  “What a good idea. Can you do that in your dining room, away from where we’re eating while I heat the stew and set the table?”

  “Yeah, I can.”

  After he left the kitchen carrying the baby, she set about heating the stew. It was full of chopped up vegetables and meat. The food here was plain yet wholesome. The whole idea of having passenger accommodation certainly complimented running a stage line, or maybe it was the other way around.

  She stepped over to the pine dresser. A drawer was filled with cutlery and the crockery on a shelf below it was of good quality. White with a blue edge around it. A setting for twelve by the looks of it.

  I could like it here she thought. Guilt weighed her down. Brodie had been honest with her, it was only right she tell him her story tonight, sordid as it was. If he couldn’t bring himself to have her as his wife she could ride into town with Hank.

  Please God, let him believe it was not my fault. That I was duped by Geoffrey. A lot of men would refuse a tarnished woman like her even if it was a marriage of convenience. If she didn’t tell him she would be living a lie and couldn’t do such a contemptible thing. It could have ramifications for his business if her past ever came out. No, she had to confess even if it meant banishment from his life. She had no idea what, but she would make some other kind of life for herself and Daisy.

  She spied a carved wooden serving trolly. It would make life much easier. This Liz had been well organized for sure. She wondered why the woman had left so suddenly knowing that she would be shortly replaced. Surely, she could have stayed on for a few more days rather than leave her employer in the lurch. Maybe they had fallen out over something?

  Tilly packed the trolley with crockery, cutlery, butter and a large plate of biscuits. Wheeling the trolley into the dining room she spied a pine table covered with a blue and white checked cloth and twelve brown upholstered chairs.

  Quickly she set the table down one end as there were only four of them. As she passed the sitting room, she poked her head around the doorway. Daisy was sitting on Brodie’s knee playing with the buttons on his shirt.

  “If you’d like to go to the dining room everything is set up ready. I’ll just get the food.”

  By the time she returned with a large dish of stew, the men were all seated. They went to rise as she entered. “Don’t get up.”

  Daisy lay on a fur rug kicking her legs and playing with a rolled-up pair of socks.

  “Help yourself,” she said. “I thought coffee after we’ve finished eating.”

  The men nodded. Surprisingly they waited until she was seated before picking up their cutlery.

  “I’d like to say grace,” Reverend Egan said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Go ahead,” Brodie said. The cutlery dropped with a clatter on to the table.

  “Let’s bow our heads. For what we about to receive, Dear Lord, make us truly thankful. Amen.”

  Brodie glanced around. “Well men and lady, time we ate.”

  The stew was delicious. Hopefully, Liz had left a recipe book behind. It was spiced with something she wasn’t sure what. “What happened to Liz, I thought she’d be staying until I arrived.”

  “She was going to,” Brodie said, “her and Hamish were in town getting supplies when she felt ill. Anyway, the doctor said she had to have bed rest for a while.”

  “Yeah,” Hank said. “And Hamish is just about off his head with worry. He’s my brother if you were wondering. They’ve been waiting so long for this baby.”

  “Oh dear, I hope everything will be okay for them.”

  “The doc said it would be.”

  “I feel bad for letting her work here for so long after she was expecting. That’s what probably caused it.” Brodie frowned.

  “I’m sure it didn’t. How many women working on farms or ranches right up until the day they give birth,” she said. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “Of course not,” the old man chipped in. “If they’re Godfearing people I’m sure the Lord will look after them. My son was born about six weeks early and he’s forty years old now and still hale and hearty. Being near medical help, that’s the key.”

  “Help yourself to the biscuits. There are a few more left in the kitchen if we run out.”

  “I’ll bring your luggage in off the porch after I’ve eaten,” Hank said. “Which rooms do you want to use?” He glanced at Brodie.

  “Except for mine, anyone, they’re all made up ready.”

  “Maybe I should have the one closest to the kitchen in case I need to feed the baby during the night.”

  “You probably will,” Brodie said.

  Hank stared at his boss. “How would you know?”

  Brodie grimaced. “I had fifteen younger brothers and sisters. Try to keep her up as long as you can, then give her a good feed of milk.”

  “All right, thanks.”

  They lapsed into silence. She felt exhausted, having barely slept last night for fear of sleeping in and missing the stage in Moyston. She was only able to doze for short spells on the journey as it was so bone jarringly rough.

  The men seemed to enjoy the stew and wolfed down the biscuits. Hank thanked her for the meal and excused himself to go deal with their luggage.

  “I might turn in soon,” Reverend Egan said. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  “And the ride was rough,” she said, watching Brodie bristle at what he obviously thought was a slight to his stage line. “The road was bumpy. In some places it wasn’t even a road.”

  “I’ll show you out back,” Brodie told the old man. “I always leave a lamp by the back door in case people need it.”

  “Thank you, my boy, the moon and stars cast enough light for me. Thank you for a delicious meal, my dear.” He lowered his voice. “Sort out what is troubling you tonight. I can marry you before I leave tomorrow,” he said to Brodie.

  “It’s up to Tilly whether there will be a marriage or not. I’m ready to proceed with it.”

  “As I said, sort out your differences. You’ll both rest easier for it. What time does Hank plan on leaving in the morning?”

  “I guess there’s no real rush now after what happened. Mid-morning maybe.”

  “Goodnight, Reverend Egan, sleep well.”

  “Thank you, my dear. I shall.”

  Chapter Seven

  Reverend Egan followed Brodie out of the room while Tilly checked the baby was all right. She loaded up the empty dishes on to the serving trolly. She would have to wait until Brodie returned, as she dared not leave Daisy alone.

  There was no doubt she would have to confess her shame to him. It would be dishonorable not to. She broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. Could she live with the guilt of not telling him?

  It was too terrible a secret to keep. He had to know even if it meant he asked her to leave in the morning. Better for him to hear it from her than to discover it somehow after they wed.

  Brodie came back. “Thanks for supper. You look worn out. I’ll do the dishes for you.”

  “No thanks, I’ll do them after I prepare Daisy for bed. I need to talk to you.”

  “Why? Just agree to marry
me. Nothing to talk about.” He leaned down and picked up the baby. “She needs her diaper changed. Need me to show you how?”

  “No, I watched Doris do it, the young woman who was killed. I’m sorry she’s dead, but she was so hard and heartless.”

  “Did she hurt the baby?” He shot the words out.

  “No, she was quite capable only cold and impatient. How could a woman be like that with a pretty little baby like Daisy?”

  “Not all women are maternal.”

  She started wheeling out the serving trolley.

  “You did well tonight especially when you must be tired and overwrought after what happened on the trail. I’m sorry for my bad-tempered display when you first arrived. After what I went through growing up with all those kids, well….”

  “I understand.”

  “She’ll have to share a bed with you.”

  “Is that safe?”

  “Pa and my step-mother had kids in various parts of the bed with them. Never seemed to stop them from procreating.”

  Tilly gasped at his bluntness. “You shared a bed with your parents?”

  “Not us bigger kids, the youngest three or four.” He shuddered. “It was an awful life. I could barely wait to get away from them. You better see to the baby first.” He jiggled Daisy on his knee. “She’s about ready to fall asleep.”

  “Hank would have brought her bag in. It only had a change of clothes and a few diapers in it. How could anyone sell a baby?” She wrung her hands. “Or buy one?”

  “The would-be parents were probably desperate for a baby and couldn’t get one any other way.”

  “It’s diabolical. I’d report them all to the sheriff if I knew who they were.”

  “If you want to keep her don’t mention anything to anyone. Hank and Dave won’t say anything if you ask them not to.”

  “So, you are prepared to let her stay now?”

  “Yeah, as long as you do, too.”

  “I have to talk to you first.”

  “Prepare the bottle now. It needs to be warm, and I don’t reckon she should have straight milk. Like I said before, put a little hot water in it, that will warm it up enough.”

  “Except for breast milk and cow’s milk what else is there?”

  “Canned milk.”

  “I didn’t know, although it must have been canned milk Doris used, now I think about it.”

  He grinned. “You’re lucky I know so much about it, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She left the dishes to go to collect the baby’s diapers. Was there a nightgown? When Tilly opened the bag containing the baby’s belongings, she was shocked. Apart from a second baby bottle there was only a washed out blanket and several flannel diapers. It was shocking. The rich new parents would have had to supply everything.

  How sad it all was. No papers or anything to identify Daisy. Nothing to record the fact she ever existed. She would have to sleep in her traveling dress. It wasn’t much to look at either come to think of it.

  Her head was aching with the worry of telling Brodie her secret. She wanted to stay here with him now, be his wife. Now she was getting to know him a little better, under the gruff exterior she realized was a decent man who was tortured by a horrible childhood. He was good with the baby, better than her in fact. Fifteen children. She shuddered. What a chaotic life it would have been.

  “Stop procrastinating get out there and attend Daisy’s needs and tell Brodie,” she muttered.

  She gathered up the diaper and the blanket and hurried back to the kitchen. Daisy was starting to cry, and she dashed into the kitchen. Brodie was walking up and down holding her against his shoulder while patting her back.

  “Thank goodness you’re back. She’s getting cranky.”

  “I’m sorry. A blanket and a spare feeding bottle and diapers was all she had. It’s criminal.”

  “Yeah well, get her changed and feed her before she really starts to bellow.”

  She cleared the end of the table and spread out the blanket. He laid the baby down.

  On removing the wet diaper, Tilly gasped with shock. The baby’s little backside was red raw. “Just look at this, the poor little thing.” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back.

  Brodie muttered a swear word. “I’ve got salve that we can use.” He stepped over to the kitchen dresser and produced a tin. “Put this on her, it should help.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s good for everything, burns, bruising and abrasions. It won’t hurt her.” He handed it over. “Spread it on thickly.”

  “All right, thanks.” She did so.

  When she was finally able to put the baby down on the double bed and return to the kitchen Brodie was sitting in a chair his legs out in front of him, eyes closed. She hesitated for a moment or two.

  “I’m not asleep. What’s so important it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “I deceived you in my letter.”

  “Deceived me? How?”

  “I told you I didn’t have a husband.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly true.”

  His jaw clenched and a pulse jerked at the side of his neck as he shot upright in the chair.

  “I was married to a man who is now dead.”

  “So you’re a widow.”

  “Um.” She took a deep breath. When he married me, he, he still had a wife.”

  “How? I mean… He was a bigamist?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know, I swear it. We were married by a preacher and everything. I lived with him for nearly six months. I’m ruined. A whore people called me when it got out. That’s why I was so desperate to get out of Coyote Crossing. I should have told you in my letter, but it was goo shameful.”

  Brodie felt as if he had been gut shot. He was glad the man was dead, saved him from beating him to a pulp. He was lost for words. Poor Tilly. He could imagine how humiliated and used she would feel once everyone found out.

  “The sheriff said there was another woman he’d married as well.”

  “Another one? Tarnation, what kind of man would do such a thing?”

  “I’ll leave in the morning. I can see the disgust on your face.”

  He was disgusted all right, but not with her. What was wrong with him? Surely, he hadn’t expected a virgin bride? Purely academic as it was to be a marriage in name only unless he could get her to change her mind.

  She stood there dejected and sad and his heart bled for her. How must she feel having to tell him about it? He admired her honesty. Most women would have said nothing, at least waited until after they were wed before confessing.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t?” Hope flared in her eyes, quickly replaced by despair.

  “It matters, not in the way you think, though. If the man wasn’t already dead, I’d put him in the ground.” He pulled her into his arms. “It doesn’t matter, Tilly. I still want to marry you.”

  She nuzzled her damp cheek against his throat and heat surged through him. He liked holding her, enjoyed it so much it scared him.

  Finally, she pulled away and he felt somehow bereft.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Delicate pink stained her cheeks making her even more desirable.

  “We’re both a little overwrought. You can’t blame yourself. You were tricked by an evil man. It could have been any young woman who got caught up in his deceit. Go to bed. The baby will more than likely wake up for a feed during the night.”

  “I would like to marry you, Brodie, but if someone found out it could ruin your business.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, you were tricked, and any person with an ounce of decency wouldn’t hold you responsible. You are not the only one with secrets. I used to be a gun for hire.”

  “Oh?”

  “No-one would call that a noble profession, killing men for money. Not that I ever shot an innocent or unarmed man. You live by the gun and you die by the gu
n is an apt saying. I didn’t want to die, so once I saved a few dollars I got out and came here. And here I intend to stay.”

  He stared intently at her. “I’ll look in on the preacher on my way to bed and if he’s still awake I’ll tell him we want to get married after breakfast. Hank can make a slight detour and let the sheriff in Eldorado know what happened. A few hours here or there aren’t going to hurt the lady who was killed, and the outlaws will be well and truly gone.”

  “Goodnight, Brodie. Thank you.”

  Once Tilly was in bed, she lay staring into the darkness listening to the baby’s gentle breathing. She was beginning to like Brodie Miller more than she thought, after all she hardly knew the man.

  Fifteen children. What an awful childhood he must have had, and his poor stepmother producing so many babies. “Please God, let me have a good future with him. I’ve sinned, but it was unknowingly.”

  Would he want it to be a real marriage now they appeared to be growing closer? Was she ready for that?

  Chapter Eight

  Daisy’s crying woke Tilly. She was startled for a moment then yesterday’s happenings came flooding back. “It’s all right, sweetheart, I’ll just put a robe on over my nightgown.” It was daylight, about five or six o’clock by the looks of it, and nothing stirred.

  Picking up the baby, she ventured out of the bedroom. Her hair hung down her back and the baby grabbed at it and stopped crying. Tilly let her tug at it, if it kept her from waking the rest of the house, the pain was worth it.

  She pushed open the kitchen door and skidded to a halt. Brodie sat at the table drinking a coffee and eating a left-over biscuit from last night. He rose to his feet and stared at her, his nostrils flaring slightly.

  “Good morning, Tilly.”

  “Um, good morning.” Heat raced into her cheeks.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re well covered up.” He grinned. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “My, my hair.” She must look a fright.

  “Your hair is pretty. I like it loose. How’s Miss Daisy this morning?” He wriggled his finger and the baby chortled. “The coffee is still hot if you want some and there’s hot water on the stove. The milk is fresh.”