The Thanksgiving Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides, Book Eight)

by Kit Morgan

  “I assume it was the only choice.” Miss Brubauk turned to the door as the stage came to a stop.

  Daisy made a fist and was about to say something, but Mr. Kroger touched her on the shoulder and shook his head. “Don’t waste your breath, missy,” he stage-whispered. “Hopefully it’s the last time you’ll ever have to deal with her.” He winked, smiled and put on his hat.

  Miss Brubauk glared at him, lifted her chin, and waited for the driver to help her disembark. “I hope you’ll be very happy wherever it is you’re going, and with whomever it is you’re to marry.”

  “I’m sure I will be, and I plan on being a good wife to my husband.”

  “See that you do,” Miss Brubauk said as the door of the stage opened. She turned once more to Daisy. “I hope you will be to your new husband’s liking. The people in this town are special, and expect anyone entering into it to be the same.” She looked Daisy up and down one last time, wrinkled her nose, then took the driver’s hand and got off the stage.

  Daisy sighed with relief. “Thank the Lord the journey’s over.”

  Mr. Kroger cackled. “I gotta hand it to ya, missy – you’ve got the patience of Job. I had to pretend to be asleep to avoid her grumpy remarks, coward that I am. I’m sorry you took the brunt of it.”

  “Did it never occur to you, Mr. Kroger, to come to my rescue?”

  “And deal with the likes of that? Are you out of your mind? Good luck on your wedding, missy. I wish you all the best.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said. “I’m sure I’ll be very happy.”

  “Who’s your intended?”

  “Mr. Morgan Tindle,” she said with a little sigh. “He’s a businessman here in town, and is probably waiting for me right now.” She looked nervously out the stage door as Miss Brubauk walked stiffly into the embrace of a woman with the same build and features. “That must be her sister,” she muttered under her breath. “Poor woman.” She continued to scan the townspeople coming and going, but didn’t see a man who appeared to be waiting for her.

  “Are you gonna get off or not?” groused the driver.

  Daisy swallowed hard, gathered her skirts and got off the stage.

  “Oh yoo-hoo!”

  Daisy glanced around until her eyes settled on the woman standing next to Miss Brubauk. She turned to Daisy’s former traveling companion, patted her on the shoulder, then pointed at Daisy. Miss Brubauk’s mouth fell open as her eyes went just as wide as Daisy’s. Oh no! It couldn’t be!

  Miss Brubauk’s sister made a beeline for her. “You must be Miss Evers! I’m Martha Tindle! I can’t believe you were on the same stage as my sister Eunice!” She grabbed Daisy in a fierce hug. “Welcome to Independence, my dear! Oh, but you must be famished after your long journey. Come inside and let’s get you all settled.”

  Daisy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and couldn’t even comprehend that she was about to be related to the grumpiest, pinched-lipped, sour-souled woman she’d ever met. If Morgan Tindle was anything like his aunt, this whole “adventure” was already off to a rocky start.

  Two

  “Martha!” Miss Brubauk snapped. “A word, if you please.”

  Daisy watched Miss Brubauk grab Mrs. Tindle’s arm and pull her a few feet away. A cacophony of furious whispers bounced back and forth between them, Mrs. Tindle occasionally turning to smile at Daisy while Miss Brubauk frowned.

  This can’t be happening! Daisy thought. She hadn’t been in Independence five minutes, yet she already wanted to leave.

  Their hushed argument over, Mrs. Tindle patted her hair and walked to where Daisy stood in stunned silence. “I’m so glad you’ve arrived, but my sister has just pointed out that there might be a problem with the sleeping arrangements, at least until you and Morgan are properly wed.”

  Daisy looked from one woman to the other. “I understand. What do you propose I do?”

  “I have a friend – the mayor’s wife, actually – who would be more than happy to have you stay at her home until the wedding. You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

  “Of course not – I completely understand. I had no idea that Miss Brubauk was your sister; nor did she have any idea I was her nephew’s intended.”

  Mrs. Tindle looked at her sister, then back to Daisy. “Yes, I can see this has come as a shock to you both. No matter, it’s settled. I’ll have Mr. Tindle escort you to the Vanders’ home just as soon as he gets back from helping out Mr. Edmonson. Someone has to stay and mind the store, after all.”

  “The store?” Daisy asked.

  “Yes, of course, dear – we own the town mercantile.”

  “I had no idea. In your son’s letter, he simply mentioned he was a business owner.”

  “And so he is, my dear. Once Octavius – that’s Mr. Tindle – once he and I are done working the business, you and Morgan will take over.”

  Miss Brubauk sucked in her breath at the announcement and narrowed her eyes at Daisy.

  “How long does your sister plan to stay?” Daisy asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. At least she wouldn’t be stuck under the same roof as the cantankerous old biddy … but Daisy still hoped she wasn’t going to stay more than a few days.

  “Until she feels like leaving,” Mrs. Tindle said with a sigh of resignation. “That’s how it usually goes.”

  Daisy did her best to keep from groaning, and forced a smile instead. “How lovely.”

  “Yes. Dear Eunice loves to flit about the mercantile and … arrange things.” Was Mrs. Tindle cringing?

  “I’ll get my satchel, and your husband can show me to the Vanders’ home as soon as he’s able,” Daisy replied. “But when will I meet your son? Why isn’t he here?”

  “Oh, he … uh … he had some business to attend to at the church with our dear Pastor Adams, who you’ll meet on Sunday. He’ll be along, don’t worry. You’ll see him at supper.”

  “All right,” Daisy said, feeling a bit put out. Since when did the groom not meet his bride when she got off the stage? Wasn’t he the least bit curious about his future wife?

  The stage driver finished unloading the passengers’ luggage. Daisy retrieved her satchel, then nodded to Mrs. Tindle to let her know she was ready. Her future mother-in-law took a deep breath and smiled back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  The woman’s smile was genuine, as were her words, and they made Daisy feel better about the situation. After all, Miss Brubauk wasn’t going to be there forever, and how much trouble could it be to simply avoid her for the duration? Besides, she needed to focus on her first meeting with her intended. She hadn’t even seen a picture of him, and was dying to know what he looked like.

  But then, he hadn’t seen her either. The Winslow Orphanage, where she’d grown up, didn’t have the budget for photographs. Mrs. Teeters, who ran Winslow, and Clarence, the caretaker, had said she wasn’t hard on the eyes, but she’d never been told she was a raving beauty. Her reddish hair had little control and did what it wanted on most days. The other girls had envied her sea-green eyes and long, dark lashes - at least she had those going for her.

  Unfortunately, she was far too thin, meals not being the most extravagant nor plentiful at Winslow. It also didn’t help that she’d been traveling the last couple of weeks and desperately wanted a bath. She hoped she had time for one before meeting her intended, and that this Mrs. Vander would allow her the luxury should she end up staying with her.

  The three women stepped onto the boardwalk and went into the mercantile just as a middle-aged gentleman entered the storefront from the back. “Well, if it isn’t Eunice, my favorite sister-in-law,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

  “I’m your only sister-in-law,” she pointed out.

  “Thank the Lord for that,” he muttered through his smile. Daisy’s eyes widened at his words. Apparently, her opinion of Miss Brubauk was not confined only to herself and Mr. Kroger. It was also apparent that Miss Brubauk’s hearing wasn’t as good as Daisy’s, or she would surely have go
ne into a rant.

  The man turned to Daisy. “And who do we have here, Martha? Is this who I think it is?”

  Mrs. Tindle beamed. “Yes, Octavius – isn’t she a beauty? Morgan is going to be so excited when he hears the news!”

  “News?” asked Miss Brubauk. “What news?”

  Mrs. Tindle cleared her throat. “Ah, well, Morgan doesn’t exactly …”

  “You mean you didn’t tell my nephew …” Miss Brubauk interrupted. “Of all the nerve!”

  “Now, Eunice, it’s not as bad as all that,” said Mrs. Tindle. “I’m sure Morgan will be very excited once he gets used to the idea.”

  “Why, certainly he will,” added Mr. Tindle. He looked at Daisy and smiled. “You’ll be a fine addition to the family, and I’ll teach you how to run the store in no time.”

  “You’re going to teach this … creature how to run your business?” asked Miss Brubauk in shock.

  “Of course,” said Mr. Tindle tightly. “If she’s going to be married to Morgan, she’ll need to learn how to run the place.”

  “Martha, Octavius! I will speak with you in private!” Miss Brubauk huffed, then pushed past them and marched down the hall like a queen who’d just entered her palace.

  Daisy closed her eyes and shook her head. This didn’t bode well.

  “Now, don’t worry about a thing, dear – we’ll handle this,” Mrs. Tindle assured her. “Go on, Octavius, speak to Eunice.”

  “What? Why do I have to be the one to talk with her – she’s your sister! You know she’s going to bite my head off!”

  “You’re the man of the house! Exercise your authority!”

  “I’d like to exercise her – by chasing her out and back to the pit she came from.”

  “Octavius!” Mrs. Tindle sounded less scandalized than fearful.

  “You come with me, woman, or I’ll tell her just that,” Mr. Tindle threatened.

  “Are you two coming?” a shrill voice screeched from down the hall.

  Mrs. Tindle took on the look of a woman about to walk to the gallows. “Yes, dear Eunice. We’ll be along,” she called back. She turned to Daisy. “This won’t take but a moment. At least, I hope it won’t,” she added as her husband grabbed her hand and ushered her down the hall.

  * * *

  Daisy stood in the middle of the mercantile and stared at the empty corridor. It must lead to the back of the building, and possibly the Tindles’ living quarters. She looked around, then at the ceiling, and wondered if they made their home on the second floor. She’d find out soon enough – she would soon be living there, after all.

  But what was Miss Brubauk getting so upset about a moment ago? She’d been so unnerved finding out her intended was the woman’s nephew that she hadn’t paid close attention to what the banshee had been yelling about …

  The bell above the door rang and pulled Daisy from her thoughts. She turned just as a handsome young man walked in. He gave her a warm smile. “Good afternoon, Miss,” he greeted as he glanced around. “Might I be of service?”

  Daisy took a moment to remember how to breathe. His sparkling blue eyes were in sharp contrast to his raven locks. He stood and stared at her, waiting for her to answer him. “Um, no thank you, I’m fine.”

  “Just looking then?”

  “No, actually I’m …”

  The door opened again and three women entered. “Oh, look, there they are!” one exclaimed. “Mrs. Tindle put the new fabrics out after all!” The women oohed and ahhed as they headed directly for a shelf lined with bolts of cloth.

  Daisy watched them and wondered if she should have a look too. It would take her mind off both the handsome man, who continued to glance around the mercantile, and whatever Miss Brubauk was telling the Tindles down the hall. She decided to join the others.

  “Just look at this blue!” said a blonde-haired woman to a brown-haired one. “I wish I could have some!”

  Daisy perused the bolts of cloth and, like the others, had to admit they were very pretty. She especially fancied a light red with tiny blue flowers on it. “My, but these are nice.”

  “Aren’t they, though?” the blonde agreed. The woman stopped fondling material and looked Daisy up and down. “I’m sorry, but are you new in town? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

  Daisy gave her a shy smile. “As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”

  The pretty blonde woman smiled and held out her hand. “I thought you might be. I’m Hester Gail. This is Winnie Adams,” she went on, pointing to the brown-haired woman. “She’s our pastor’s wife. And this is Amelia Edmonson.” She indicated the third, a frail, careworn sort with dark hair starting to go gray.

  “How do you do?” Daisy said as she nodded to them and shook each hand in turn. She reached out and touched the red calico that she’d been admiring. “This is lovely,” she said, then sidestepped to look at a bolt of brown cloth. Unfortunately, she stepped on one of the other women’s feet.

  “Ouch!”

  Daisy spun to her. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course – no harm done,” Amelia Edmonson told her.

  Daisy smiled and nodded. “I think this red is my favorite.”

  “I’ve always been partial to blue,” commented Mrs. Gail.

  “Pink for me,” Mrs. Adams added.

  “Oh, I like them all,” Mrs. Edmonson said. The women giggled and continued to admire the fabric.

  “May I help you ladies with anything?”

  Daisy froze. It was the man who’d spoken with her a few moments ago. Could it be?

  “Mr. Tindle,” Winnie Adams asked, “how much for three yards of the blue calico?”

  “Oh Winnie, don’t,” Mrs. Gail said. “Please, I can’t accept it.”

  “Why not?” Winnie asked. “You’ve said before you needed a new dress.”

  “But …” began Mrs. Gail in protest.

  “I can get you three yards, no problem,” the young man said.

  “Then please do,” said Mrs. Adams as she pulled the bolt from the shelf and handed it to him.

  Egads! Daisy turned and watched as the man carried the fabric to the front counter. Was that her future husband? Her mouth dropped open, her eyes grew wide, and her heart beat so fast she thought she’d have to hold it down to keep it from leaping out of her chest. She took a step back, dumbfounded …

  … and stepped on poor Mrs. Edmonson’s foot again. “Ouch!”

  Daisy jumped and spun to face her. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry!”

  “No harm done, again. My foot’s suffered worse.”

  “That was so clumsy of me, I am sorry,” Daisy said, her face red with embarrassment.

  Amelia smiled at her. “It’s nothing, really. Are you gonna get some of the red cloth?”

  Daisy admired the pretty red calico. “Not today. Perhaps another time.”

  “When did you move to town?” Mrs. Gail asked.

  “I … just arrived today,” Daisy told her, trying not to stammer. The thought of the handsome man behind the counter as her future husband had her head swimming. But a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that something wasn’t right. She turned toward the counter and stared at him a moment. If the women had noticed she was new in town and asked her about it, why hadn’t he? After all, he must’ve known she was coming. Or was this “Mr. Tindle” Morgan’s brother or cousin? A wave of disappointment washed over her as she turned back to the women and sighed.

  “What’s the matter?” Winnie asked.

  Daisy looked at her. “Oh, it’s nothing … I was just thinking about something, that’s all.

  “I hope I’ll see you in church on Sunday. That is, if you’re settled in by then.”

  “Do you and your husband have any children?” asked Hester.

  Daisy blinked at her a few times. “Er … no. I’m not married.” Yet.

  “Here’s your cloth, Mrs. Adams,” said the handsome man as he came around the counter and handed her a wrapped package.
/>   “Mr. Tindle, have you met Miss Evers yet? She’s new in town – just arrived today.”

  He looked at her and smiled. It was brilliant. Daisy felt her knees grow weak. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Evers.”

  “Miss Evers,” continued Mrs. Adams, “this is Morgan Tindle. He just came back to Independence a few months ago. He and his family run this fine establishment.”

  “I was away at college,” he explained.

  Daisy had to force words to form on her lips. “Pleased … to… meet you.”

  “So what brings you to town?” Mrs. Gail inquired. “Are you visiting relatives?”

  “Ah, no,” Daisy said with a shake of her head, eyes wide. “I … I came here to get married.”

  The three women looked at one another. “Are you a mail-order bride?” Mrs. Adams asked.

  Daisy nodded, unable to take her eyes off of Morgan Tindle.

  “Another mail-order bride,” he said with a happy smile. “Isn’t that wonderful?” He looked at Daisy as his smile faded. “Goodness, I know I haven’t been back long, but even so, I’m sure I would have heard about this from someone. If you don’t mind my asking, who’s your intended?”

  Two words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. “You are.”

  * * *

  Morgan stared blankly at the young woman standing before him. Did she just say what I think she did? He cleared his throat as he noticed the other women gawking at the two of them. “I’m sorry … I beg your pardon?” he managed.

  The woman gave him a weak smile. “I’m … Daisy Evers. Your mail-order bride?”

  “Mail-order bride …” He took a step back and almost tripped over a bucket display.

  The pastor’s wife reached out and grabbed one of his flailing arms to steady him. “Mr. Tindle, be careful!”

  He righted himself and gave her a blank stare. “I didn’t send for a mail-order bride.”

  Daisy felt as if her heart had sunk into her toes. “What?”

  “Perhaps you’ve mistaken Mr. Tindle for someone else?” Mrs. Gail suggested behind her.