Misty's True Love (Mail Order Brides of Pioneer Town, Book 2)

by Ruth Hartzler

  “Why yes, most surely!” Rosamund squealed with a happy look on her face. “I am sure all the drawbacks, and I believe there would be many, would be worth it.”

  With her words, a sinking feeling struck Cody. He finally realized the entire point of the woman being at that dinner. It might have been a normal occurrence in the past, but now that he was set to marry Misty, he knew that there had to be a more sinister reason behind it. First, his mother’s overbearing nature had forced his future wife to move in with her friend. And now, she was making the most of Misty’s absence by inviting the one woman who would, in her view, challenge the marriage.

  But what were they plotting? Were they trying to bring back the discussion of a union between Rosamund and himself? If so, it was the last thing in the world that he wanted be thinking about right then. After all, such an idea was the very catalyst that led to his communication with Misty in the first place. She had become the answer to his problem, but now that was hanging in the balance as well, and his own mother was likely to blame.

  “Actually, life on a ranch doesn’t really take too much getting used to,” Indiana said, her words causing both Cody and Morgan to smile simultaneously. “The scent and the dust can be somewhat overwhelming at first, but it does prove to be most tolerable. However,” she added, clearing her throat, “it takes a certain kind of person to open up to such a way of living. My dear husband has a way of making everything easier for me.”

  Cody smiled again, realizing how lucky his friend was in marrying Indiana. He saw a similar type of woman in Misty as he did in her, but she was more humble and kind even, at least in her letters. All he had ever desired was a family and happiness, two things that required a good, honest woman. Rosamund was neither of those things. Cody had his heart set on marrying Misty, with given how crafty his mother was acting, he was sure it was only a matter of time until something else went wrong.

  “It’s not that I make things easier. It’s that I accept the flaws and focus on the good,” Morgan said in a joking manner, causing both Indiana and Cody to chuckle.

  “Yes, I am sure it isn’t nearly so difficult as it seems,” his mother said to Rosamund.

  Cody glanced over at Rosamund, who was watching him carefully with a broad grin on her face.

  Chapter 7

  Cody was not happy in the slightest accompanying Rosamund Swire on a picnic, far from it. The words of his mother still rang in his ears: “If you accompany Miss Swire on a picnic and then still do not wish to marry her, then I shall agree that you do not have to marry her.”

  When Cody had told Morgan and Indiana about his mother’s words, they had thought it an excellent idea to end her interference, not that they had put it quite so bluntly. Misty, however, had seemed upset.

  Cody, with Rosamund at his side, walked toward the creek, watching the sunlight reflect from the ripples in the water. People had always said he was a hopeless romantic, and he supposed that was, in fact, true. He spent much of his time daydreaming about his and Misty’s life together once they were married. “Misty would love it here,” he said absently to himself.

  “Misty!” Rosamund spat the word. “Do not mention her name when you are here with me!”

  Cody turned to Rosamund. “Rosamund, when you asked me to accompany you on the picnic, I explained to you very clearly that I was happy to accompany you, but that you were not to read anything into it. I shall be marrying Miss Misty.”

  At that, Rosamund giggled spitefully.

  Cody simply shrugged and kept on walking along the banks of the creek.

  “Those cattle do no smell appealing,” Rosamund snorted in disgust.

  Cody smiled to himself. Perhaps that wasn’t what she had in mind when she thought she’d get some alone time with me, he thought.

  Rosamund looked as if she was about to have a temper tantrum, and as Cody had been on the receiving end of more than one of her infamous tantrums before, he thought he should change the subject. “Buffalo Bill Cody…”

  “I know who he is,” Rosamund snapped. “I am well studied, if you recall.”

  “Oh yes,” Cody said, speaking quickly as if that would somehow placate her. “There is talk that his show will be starting up again soon.”

  “Did you make that up?” Rosamund asked accusingly.

  Cody was taken aback. “No, of course not.”

  “Oh,” she snapped, jutting out her chin in an aggressive manner. “Well, I’ve only heard that Annie Oakley has recovered well.”

  Cody nodded. Conversation with Rosamund was always difficult, and this was the case now. “Yes,” he said.

  “Hmpf!” was Rosamund’s only reply, and she walked away, in the direction of the creek. Cody watched her as she walked, wondering if she was storming off or simply walking. He hoped she was simply walking.

  The lingering tension hung in the air. Cody thought of Misty.

  They walked along the creek bank in silence. Rosamund nearly slipped and Cody reached out his hand to steady her. When she had regained her balance, he tried to let her hand go, but she clung to it. He gave his hand a little shake but she clung even harder and dug in her fingernails. She should be a rancher, Cody thought, with such a strong grip.

  Finally, Cody managed to shake her off, but he felt quite ungentlemanly in doing so. Nevertheless, he could not in all good conscience walk around holding hands with Rosamund Swire.

  They reached the top of a grassy hill and paused to catch their breath. Cody looked down and surveyed the sweeping view. Below him stretched contented cows grazing on the rich, fertile soil, and beyond, mountains on the horizon.

  Cody realized that Rosamund had been speaking. “Oh sorry, what did you say?”

  Rosamund glared at him. “I said, this is where we should have our picnic.” Her voice was filled with anger.

  Cody shrugged. “As you wish.” Rosamund is unpleasant, he thought. Surely my mother can see this for herself.

  Rosamund, at any rate, appeared to have lost interest in speaking, and simply wanted to sit in the sun and eat lunch.

  Cody opened the picnic basket he had carried up, and found sandwiches wrapped in paper and tied with pretty ribbon. No doubt his mother has given strict orders to the cook for the contents of the basket.

  “Isn’t this nice,” Rosamund said, wiping some chicken from her mouth in not quite a ladylike fashion. “Imagine, this is what life will be like when we’re married.”

  Cody nearly choked. “Rosamund,” he said, trying to keep his tone even, “we shall not be getting married.”

  Rosamund’s face turned an unpleasant shade of beet red. “What do you have against me?” Her voice rose shrilly.

  Cody studiously avoided a direct answer to that question. Instead, he said quite firmly, “I am in love with Misty. Misty and I will be getting married.” He pronounced each word separately and distinctly, and with emphasis.

  Cody expected outrage, but to his discomfort, Rosamund smiled and looked quite smug. “That’s what you think.”

  The tone of her voice made the hairs on the back of Cody’s neck stand up. What did she know that he didn’t?

  Chapter 8

  As Mrs. Olivia Mills waited for the servants to bring her tea, she sat in the drawing room, patiently awaiting the return of Rosamund Swire and her son, Cody. She was anxious to see how the picnic had played out that day, but knowing her son, things probably hadn’t gone as planned. It was difficult to tell if he already knew what they were trying to do or not, but either way, he had been resisting them both at every turn.

  Moments after her tea was brought in, she heard the bell at the front door. Olivia looked over toward the doorway of the room in anticipation of her impending visitor. The butler finally walked in, introducing the guest as he did. “My lady, Ms. Rosamund Swire is here to see you.”

  Olivia looked up and smiled, nodding to let him know that it was okay to leave. She then indicated the seat opposite her. A maid leaned forward to pour the two ladies tea before Olivia
dismissed her as well. “So, my dear, how was your picnic?”

  Without sitting down, Rosamund sighed and shook her head. “You would not believe how he treated me!” she whined, throwing up her hands like a helpless child.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Olivia asked, unconvinced that her son would have been so overly rude. Cody could be a bit hard-headed at times when he thought his heart was leading him in the right direction, but he had always been a gentleman.

  Rosamund paced back and forth briefly, her eyes darting between the floor and Olivia. “It certainly seemed as though he had no desire to be there. He looked so bored and upset the entire time. I do not think our plan worked, not even a little bit.”

  “Well then, that means we need to come up with another,” Olivia said, sighing as she bit her lower lip and racked her brain for ideas. “But please, sit and drink tea with me,” she said, extending her hand toward the chair one more time.

  Rosamund did as asked, but once she was seated, she did not seem to care much for the tea. After a sip, she slid the cup back onto the table, causing it to spin slightly until it came to a stop of its own volition. Olivia watched silently, more focused on how to fix their current predicament than how to fix the woman’s damaged ego.

  Minutes later, Olivia was still void of ideas, slowly going through the motions in her mind. Leaning forward in her chair, she stared at Rosamund intently as she took a long sip from her tea. Steam billowed from the cup that she held firmly in her hands. Looking down at it for some time, she watched the steam carefully as it slowly rose toward the ceiling, but what caught her eye had nothing to do with her tea or its steam. Rather, it was the chandelier that stood out.

  “I did consider that we were going to have to start over with our plans,” Rosamund said, “but it took us long enough to think of a way to get him to even entertain the idea of a marriage arrangement. Now that it has failed, how can we possibly talk him into something like that again? Perhaps if he wasn’t so enthralled with that maid…” she said, her voice trailing off as she sat back down and hid her face behind a teacup. It felt like ages before she spoke again, but when she put her tea back down on the table, the words finally came. “I have a feeling that the maid might be a bigger problem than we had initially thought.”

  “Hmm.” Olivia was still piecing things together, trying to make sense of the threads of a scheme slowly forming in her mind. Maybe Rosamund was right. They needed to figure out a way to change how Cody felt about Misty, but what options were left? “Well, that could certainly be the case, but if so, then we need to think of something else quickly.”

  “Yes, but what can we do to get her out of the picture? It doesn’t seem to matter that she’s nothing but a lowly scullery maid or what have you,” Rosamund said, her voice gradually getting louder the longer she spoke.

  Olivia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced back over at Rosamund and smiled. If Cody was able to see that Misty just did not fit in with their way of life, then maybe he would actually understand, and that was what mattered to her; because at the end of the day, Olivia wanted nothing more than to see her son happy. “We need to show him that she will never be a suitable wife. Once he accepts that, his heart will be yours for the taking.”

  Rosamund walked over toward the fireplace and looked at the collection of photographs that lined the mantle above it. Looking back at Olivia only briefly, she chuckled as she studied the images. “Do you truly think that there might be a picture of Cody with me up here one day?”

  Olivia swallowed the lump that was forming her throat, but said nothing. To be honest, she really did not have an answer. It was definitely possible, but her son wasn’t the average, typical man. He was strong-willed. “I think anything is possible, dear, but probable is another matter entirely.”

  Rosamund sighed, gently placing the photograph that she held back onto the mantle. She then turned and locked eyes with Olivia. “So, now that we know what we have to do, how do we go about doing it? How do you convince a man that his future wife is not suitable?”

  Olivia laughed briefly, but then turned serious. “Well, for starters, you never tell a man such a thing! Instead, we need to show it to him.”

  “And how do we do that?” Rosamund asked, running a hand over her hair.

  Olivia looked back up at the chandelier. It was beautiful and opulent, but that wasn’t why it kept pulling her attention to it. “I have the answer. We should throw a ball.”

  Rosamund turned toward her and paused, her face twisting with confusion. “A ball? What good would that do?”

  “Have you ever seen a maid go to a ball as anything other than a servant? It would be like dropping a fish onto land and watching it squirm and flop,” Olivia said, confident that such a plan would work.

  “Oh, I see,” Rosamund said, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, that would surely work. Surely that will be enough to show your son what sort of woman she is.”

  Olivia sipped her tea before elaborating on her plan. “I cannot say with certainty that it will work, but once Cody sees how graceless and out of place the maid is amongst our guests, he will realize she is inappropriate. The question that we are left with, however, is whether or not you should be in attendance.”

  Almost immediately, Rosamund’s happy demeanor evaporated, sending a palpable tension into the air. “Why shouldn’t I be invited?”

  Olivia wasn’t sure that Rosamund would be able to keep her wits about her if things didn’t go as planned. I’m not saying you won’t be invited. I was just curious if it might be a hindrance instead of a benefit.”

  “If you think that I will cause a scene, I promise you that will not be the case. I shall do exactly as you tell me to. I admit that I might speak without thinking on occasion, but if this ball is our last chance, then I shall do my best to make sure it comes to a suitable conclusion.”

  Olivia nodded. “Well then, you shall help me keep an eye on her, and if need be, we can help the little maid stand out a bit more than usual among those who will look down on her as we do. All it will take is one outburst or rude comment, and then I shall be able to use it against her. My son might still defy my wishes, but I cannot imagine that the maid is worth so much to him already.”

  Chapter 9

  “Please Indiana, You do not need to do this!” Misty protested as she was herded down the street. She tried to think up an excuse, and excuse to escape this situation.

  “No arguing, Misty.” Indiana stubbornly squared her shoulders as she regarded her friend with a kind smile. “This is going to be my gift to you. You are going to be the most stunning woman at the ball. Mr. Mills will be absolutely speechless when he see you.”

  “I really don’t think he cares much about this sort of thing,” Misty countered as she was led down the busy street. Cody was a practical man. While he had not spoken as such, she could tell he would just as soon miss the ball. He only planned to go by social obligation, though he did seem pleased that she was formally invited to attend.

  “I doubt he does. Most men really aren’t ones for fashion and dresses.” Indiana nodded agreeably as they made their way down the busy street. Her eyes glimmered with that girlish mischief that Misty was all too familiar with. “Nevertheless, it does not stop them from appreciating our efforts.”

  Misty sighed in defeat. “You’ve already done so much for me.” Still she knew that resistance was futile, but still, she needed to try. A ball gown was an unsightly amount of money, at least to a maid, especially in a place where there was not likely to be a ball every weekend to make use of it. “I shall feel terrible if I let you buy such a thing for me.”

  “Which is why it’s going to be your wedding gift,” Indiana stated cheerfully.

  “We are not even officially engaged!”

  “You will be when he sees you at the ball!” Indiana was practically beaming with excitement.

  Misty struggled to find the right words to argue her case without hurting Indiana�
�s feelings. They were friends, but at the same time Indiana had been under her care for years. Maids do not normally receive such gifts from former employers. And Misty had never owned a gown in her life.

  “Good!” Indiana said, taking Misty’s silence as acceptance as they hurried along. “Now that we have finally settled that, we had better get the fabric and rush to a seamstress.”

  “A seamstress?” Misty shook her head, “Oh no. I’ve altered my fair share of dresses. I’m sure I can take care of that much on my own.”

  Indiana shook her head, “Misty, you cannot sew a whole gown before the ball.”

  Sew a whole gown? Her expression must have revealed her confusion. Indiana nodded. “The dress shops here do not carry ball gowns. You have to order them well in advance. As we are pressed for time, we are going to buy the fabric and have a seamstress make it.”

  Misty’s eyes went as wide as saucers as the situation sank in. Not only was Indiana buying her a dress, but a custom made dress? It was hard enough to accept a gown from her friend, but a custom made one? She could not even begin to process it enough to protest. Should she feign illness? It was generally against her principals to resort to such things. However, this was becoming way too much, especially for an invitation from the daunting and barely civil Mrs. Mills.

  She opened her mouth to refuse the gift once more, hoping to think of a reasonable excuse to offer. Before she could think of the words, she found herself thinking of Cody. He had promised to save the first dance for her, and he was unable to back out so easily. In fact, he had very little to say about the ball itself. Every shred of interest he showed in it had been regarding the time they would spend together. Would he be disappointed if she did not attend?