An Angel in the Mail

by Callie Hutton

  Lucy tapped her lips. “Now we have to find you a housekeeper, and that will take care of everything.”

  She glared at Angel, her smile strained. “Why don’t you take this precious little one off Nate’s hands and find the boys? We’ll join you later.” She turned back to Nate, and her smile faltered when he glanced between the two women and cleared his throat.

  “Um, Lucy. Angel isn’t a nanny. She’s my wife.” He reached for Angel’s hand and squeezed. “Honey, this is an old friend, Lucy Benson.”

  Children shouted, dogs barked, and the sound of the Town Band practicing their marches reverberated in the air. Crowds formed along the streets, everyone laughing and jockeying to get the best spot. But the silence surrounding the three people standing like wax statutes next to the picnic tables was louder than all of it put together.

  “I’m sorry, Nate, I could swear you said this woman is your wife.” Lucy pulled her arm away from Nate as if burned. Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes snapped and her smile faded. Slowly, the pale white face turned red, as anger swept up her throat, enveloping her until her skin matched the red of her hair.

  “When did you get married?” Her high-pitched voice trembled with anger.

  “March twenty-eight.” Angel smiled as she took a fussing Julia-Rose from Nate’s arms.

  The baby sighed, “Mama,” laid her head on Angel’s chest, and slid her fingers in her mouth.

  “I see.” Lucy sniffed. Slowly, she backed up and turned as if to leave, but spun around, walked up to Nate and slapped him in the face. Then she strode away, her parasol twirling furiously as she walked.

  Angel made a move to go after the woman, but Nate stopped her. “Let it go.”

  “But that spoiled brat slapped you!” She hissed.

  Confused, and apparently sensing anger in the adults, Julia-Rose let out a wail. Nate took Angel’s arm and moved them in the direction of the parade. “We’ll talk later. The baby’s getting upset.”

  Angel seethed with anger at the red mark on Nate’s face. The nerve of that woman to strike her husband! She had to draw on all her training as a lady to keep from rushing after her and snatching every strand of red hair out by its roots.

  The crowd grew louder as they approached the street. Brightly colored signs from various businesses had been attached to wagons, advertising the goods they offered. Much to the children’s delight, riders on the wagon from the mercantile handed out peppermint sticks as they rode by. Clowns did somersaults and carried horns they blew every once in a while, causing small children to cry and hide under their mother’s skirts.

  A group of older gentlemen had formed the official town band, and played loudly, if not in tune, while everyone cheered and encouraged them. Nate put Julia-Rose on his shoulders to give the little girl a better view. From her perch, she clapped and laughed at the antics of the clowns.

  When they came closer to her, however, she reached for Angel. “Mama.”

  As she soothed the baby, her glance strayed to Lucy, who scowled at her from across the street. Glaring right back, she made a note to talk to Nate about the brat the first time they were alone. She took a deep breath, dismissing her for now, and pointed to something in the parade to distract Julia-Rose’s attention from the clowns.

  “Papa, wasn’t that the best parade, ever?” John almost barreled into his father as he raced ahead of his brothers.

  “It was sure a fine one, son,” Nate said as the boys surrounded him.

  Matt studied the tables loaded with food. “Is it time to eat yet?”

  Nate looked from one face to the other. “It appears the ladies are unwrapping the food. I want you all to mind your manners. No pushing or shoving when you get in line.”

  Dancing around, anxious to leave, the boys listened to their father’s instructions, and then hurried off to the lengthening group snaking around the picnic area.

  “I think I’d like to wait until the queue lessens a bit.” Angel strolled to a large birch tree. She handed Julia-Rose to Nate while she spread out their blanket, then sat and tucked her skirts underneath her legs. Once settled, he passed her the baby, and eased himself down, one long leg stretched out, the other bent, his forearm resting on his knee.

  Her gaze skimmed the crowd lightly. “Do you want to tell me about her?”

  Nate sighed. “I guess it would be downright stupid for me to ask you who.”

  Angel laid Julia-Rose on the blanket and rubbed circles on her back. “Yes, it would.”

  Nate grinned. “Lucy is the only daughter of Eli Benson, who owns a good part of this town. Lucy’s mother died in childbirth, so she’s had all her father’s attention and use of his money for years. He’s powerful and rich, and it frustrates a lot of the single women in town that he never sought to replace his dead wife.”

  He shifted and stretched out both legs. “I’ve known Lucy since she was a young girl. For some reason, she got it in her head after Amy died that she would make me a suitable wife.”

  “I seem to remember you saying there were no candidates for the next Mrs. Hale.”

  “She’s a spoiled little girl, and the last person I’d want to marry and raise my children.” He shook his head. “Several months ago, when Eli offered her a trip to Europe, I encouraged her to go.”

  Angel drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She fixed her gaze on Nate. “And while she was safely out of the way, you sent for a mail order bride so you were beyond her reach when she returned?” She smirked. “You must have done something to encourage her. She was quite surprised to find you’d married.”

  “I never considered her wife material. I sent for a mail order bride because there wasn’t anyone in town I thought would suit. You may have noticed the men outnumber the women here.”

  “So you preferred a complete stranger, instead?”

  Nate gave her a lopsided grin. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, so her back rested on his chest. “And darned lucky with how that turned out.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Oh, yes. Think of all the wonderful meals I’ve prepared, and let’s not forget my prize winning cake sitting in the garbage pail at home.”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “You’re terrific with the kids, discovered Mark’s reading problem, try hard to learn, and best of all,” he raised one eyebrow, and bent to whisper in her ear, “you keep me entertained at night.”

  Heat started in her stomach and rose to her face. The familiar, bone-melting fire in his eyes and deepening of his voice, caused her to wiggle and squirm. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Sun’s gotten a lot stronger.”

  Lucy Benson watched the exchange between the couple under the birch tree. She was so angry, her hands shook as she grasped her parasol. Never in her life had she been denied something she’d wanted, until now. For as long as she could remember, she’d had her eye on Nathan Hale. Handsome, tall, blond, strong, easygoing, he represented everything she wanted in a husband. She’d always resented that mealy-mouthed Amy he’d married.

  She’d bided her time, and when Amy finally died last summer, Lucy made her move. She cried daintily into her lace handkerchief at the woman’s funeral, patted Nate’s arm, and consoled him. During the gathering at the Hale house following the funeral, she’d stood by his side the whole time, seeing to the guests, and acting as hostess. She’d even forced herself to deal with his little brats.

  After giving him a reasonable time to grieve, she hinted about him re-marrying. In the beginning she stopped by his house, but the noise and chaos unsettled her. Instead, she visited his shop, managing to arrive at mid-day, oftentimes carrying a basket with food Cook had prepared.

  Nate always treated her with respect and friendliness, but no matter how hard she tried, he never picked up on h
er suggestions that he find a new mama for his children. Not a role she relished, but once they were married, she’d find a way to get them out from underfoot.

  Desperate to have him act, she told him of her papa’s plan to send her to Europe, hoping he would ask her not to go. Instead, to her chagrin, he encouraged the trip. Since Nate was a true gentleman, she assumed—wrongly, it seemed—he intended to wait the full year of mourning before he took another wife.

  Content with that thought, she’d gladly accepted her Papa’s offer, imagining all the fine dresses she could have made in Paris. It thrilled her to know the other girls in town would be positively green with envy. Then, finely dressed, she would return to Oregon City and become Nathan Hale’s wife.

  She narrowed her eyes as she continued to observe them. He’s the man I want, and I will have him.

  Torches provided flickering light around the makeshift dance floor. David Parker, lone fiddle player and barber store owner, had kept up the lively music for over an hour. As the last note of “Camptown Races” rang out, he wiped his forehead with a bandana.

  After a gulp from the tall glass of beer sitting next to him, he shouted to the crowd. “Okay, ladies, it’s your turn. Pick the gentleman of your choice. I’m gonna play a nice slow one.”

  Young ladies tittered as they eyed the menfolk lounging on the grass surrounding the dance floor. Several of them hopped up, anticipating an invitation to dance. David played, “Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair” as Angel stood next to Nate, slowly rocking back and forth, Julia-Rose asleep in her arms. She glanced at him, smiling. “You’re my choice.”

  “I certainly hope so.” He placed his hand on her lower back to lead her to the dance floor, but before they took a step, Lucy walked up. She grabbed his arm possessively and tugged. “Ladies choice, Nate.” She smirked at an open-mouthed Angel and pulled him onto the dance floor.

  Furious, and without hesitation, Angel strode up to the couple. She regarded Lucy with narrowed eyes and held the sleeping Julia-Rose out to Nate. She flashed the redhead a bright smile. “Julia-Rose loves dancing with her papa.”

  Nate’s eyes glinted with mirth as he quickly took the baby in his one arm, and putting his other arm around Lucy’s shoulder, attempted to dance. The position rendered it impossible for them to get close with Julia-Rose in between. Angel sauntered back to her place, hips swaying, and looked across to Mrs. Darby. The older woman winked.

  Midway through the dance, Julia-Rose awoke and let out a loud cry. Angel covered her mouth with her hand and laughed as Lucy jumped back and crashed into another couple. The baby wiggled and fussed. Lucy’s face flushed, and she said something to Nate before she left him on the dance floor.

  Angel joined him, and took Julia-Rose from his arms. Nate wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter and finished the dance.

  As she snuggled into his embrace, her gaze slid to a fuming Lucy. Angel shivered at the cold, hateful eyes that glared back at her. She pulled Nate closer and shut her eyes.

  Chapter 12

  Nate snapped the last piece of Mr. Miller’s Baker rifle together and set it on the counter. His thoughts drifted to last night. He chuckled to recall the determined look on his wife’s face as she handed Julia-Rose to him on the dance floor. Lucy had been livid, and a thwarted Lucy was not pleasant thing to behold. But holding Angel’s warm, soft body against his, her scent of lemons drifting to his nose, with the baby cuddled between them as they finished the dance, had been a great way to end the night.

  They’d returned to the wagon where the four boys slept in the back, all curled together like a litter of puppies. Sticky fingers and dirty faces attested to their good time. Once they arrived home, he put Julia-Rose in her crib, and Angel led the boys to their beds, sticky hands and all. Within minutes the two of them met in the bedroom, stripped their clothes off, and collapsed into bed. He turned to her, and she went eagerly into his arms. She couldn’t cook worth a darn. Ah, but she had other talents.

  The next day, the bell over the shop door jingled, and Lucy Benson sailed in. Nate groaned to himself as she entered.

  “Mornin’, Nate.”

  “Mornin’, Lucy,” Nate said without looking up. “What can I do for you?”

  She snapped her parasol closed. “Do I have to have a reason to visit a friend?”

  “I would say so, if the friend is working.” He finally looked up, watching her carefully.

  “Can’t you take a minute out of your day to visit?” She pouted. “I wanted to apologize for slapping you yesterday. I was so surprised to find you married! And to that woman. So unrefined. What were you thinking?”

  Nate wiped his hands on the cloth next to his work, and sat back. “I’m not going to discuss my wife with you. But I guess I can spare a minute or so to visit. Did you enjoy your trip to Europe?”

  Lucy prattled on for a good ten minutes, going on about all the new wardrobe items she acquired, all the men who were ‘fresh’ with her, and how sophisticated she found Europe to be compared to Oregon City.

  “Sounds like you had a good time,” he said when she finally took a breath.

  “Yes, I did. But, Nate,” she offered another pout, “I have to be honest and tell you again how upset I was to discover you’d married in my absence.” Lucy daintily dabbed her eyes with the edge of her lace handkerchief.

  “It was time.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  Lucy took a huge breath, pushing her bosom out. “I’ve heard Angel−is that her name?−is a mail order bride.” She shivered.

  “Yes, I met my wife through the Bride Agency.” He could have bit the words back. Continuing this conversation was not a good idea.

  She smirked. “Certainly an interesting name for it. I guess I’m confused, because who knows what kind of a background she came from? Why, it’s well known some of these brides through the mail already have husbands, or they’re running from the law. You can’t let any strange woman into your house, around your precious children. I mean, these type of women lie all the time.”

  “What type is that?” Nate’s voice came out as cold as bubbling spring water. “And where are you getting your information?”

  Lucy waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, everyone knows about your mail order bride. Any woman who has to contact an agency, and travel thousands of miles to get a husband, must have major problems, or certainly something to hide.” She fluffed the ruffle on her blouse.

  Nate stood, anger twisting his gut. “I suggest you refrain from repeating anything with regard to my wife. Our marriage is private, and I don’t appreciate hearing nasty gossip.” He moved around the counter and walked to the door, opening it. “Now if our ‘visit’ is over, I need to get back to work.”

  Lucy’s eyes filled up, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Can’t we still be friends?” She reached out and touched his sleeve, blinking wildly so a couple tears tracked down her silken, rosy cheeks.

  Nate took a deep breath. “As long as any conversations about my personal affairs are off limits. But I do have to get back to work now.”

  Lucy leaned over, kissed him briefly on the lips, and turned to the door. Snapping her parasol open, she looked over her shoulder, and smiled. “Have a good day, Nate.” She opened the door with a flourish, and head held high, she left the shop.

  Lucy continued to smile as she sauntered down the boardwalk. With a sky full of clouds, she didn’t need the parasol, but it looked so pretty with her outfit. She couldn’t resist carrying it, and twirled it as she strolled along.

  She would break him down, of that she was certain. No one could resist her. With her looks, clothes, education, and Papa’s money, she could get anything she wanted, and she wanted Nathan Hale. And she’d already gone through enough to get him.

  Never in her wildest imaginings would she gu
ess he’d take a wife while she was gone. The drab, plain woman he married had to have a history. All she needed to do was uncover it, and lay it all out for Nate. Then he’d put her aside and they could be together.

  Happiness descended on Lucy as she entered the milliner’s shop, wanting to treat herself. For an hour, she terrorized Mlle. LeGrande by trying on every hat in the store, before she purchased one.

  “Have it delivered. I don’t wish to carry it with me.” It always felt good to put common workers in their place.

  Angel retrieved the small jar she kept above the sink that jingled with coins. She was proud of her little cache of money. After word got around the community she successfully tutored Mark, several mothers had come to her and asked if she could help their children. With school out for the summer, she scheduled her tutoring sessions at various times during the day when it fit into her daily routine.

  Her lesson over, Mary Jane Emmons dropped her money in the container. The clink as it hit the other coins sounded wonderful. She contributed to the family. So far her money had bought material to make a new dress for Julia-Rose, although Nate scolded her for not using it for a dress for herself. Mrs. Darby spent time with her every day to help with the dress, and she couldn’t wait to finish it so she could proudly show the pretty yellow gingham pinafore to Nate.

  Humming, she started dinner. Most days, Nate came home at noontime to eat with the family.

  “Matt, come here, please,” she called from the back door to where he hoed her garden, another endeavor that filled her with pride. The boys had helped her prepare the ground, and then took turns keeping the weeds at bay. Currently she had onions, snap peas, pole beans, tomatoes, squash, and corn growing. When harvest time came, Mrs. Darby had promised to show her how to preserve the excess for winter.