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Beatrice the Bride (Cowboys and Angels Book 1)

Page 3

by Kirsten Osbourne


  “Is there a church in town?” she asked. He’d said Reverend Bing was from Bachelor, which indicated to her that there probably wasn’t. She’d always attended church regularly, so the idea of not having one bothered her.

  He shook his head. “We can drive to Bachelor for church if you’d like, but it’s a long drive.”

  She frowned. “It was between here and Bachelor that my parents died.” She wasn’t sure she could handle making that drive anytime soon.

  His hand reached out to cover hers. “We don’t have to go if it frightens you.”

  “I think it might. I’m not sure how long it’ll be before I can take that road.”

  “Do you want me to send some men down to try to recover their bodies?”

  Beatrice’s eyes met his. “I’d like to give them a proper burial. Is it safe for people to go and try to get them?”

  Arthur shook his head. “It’s not, but if I offer enough money, I can get a couple of men who would be willing to risk it.”

  “I won’t risk anyone else, when I know they’re gone. How could I be willing to sacrifice more lives to that horrible ravine?”

  “I think that’s the smart answer. I’m sorry.” He wanted to take care of her, and he knew it would help her to have their bodies safely buried, but how could he risk the lives of others to make it happen?

  She shrugged. “I suppose I knew it wasn’t safe when I asked. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if more people died because of my desire to bury my parents. I can say goodbye without their actual bodies being there.” It would be harder, but it wouldn’t be worth the potential cost.

  “I could ask Reverend Bing to come to Creede and perform a funeral service if you think it would help you to feel better about it all.”

  Beatrice considered for a moment. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to ask anyone to drive that narrow road for any reason.”

  “All right.” He bit into his bread, closing his eyes with pleasure. He chewed slowly, determined to change the subject. “You are a fabulous cook.”

  She grinned. “I do enjoy cooking a lot. Not as much as reading, but there’s nothing I enjoy quite as much as reading.” She couldn’t wait to start baking for him. She wanted to spoil him with treats.

  “We should read together tonight. Do you enjoy reading aloud? Or having someone read aloud to you?”

  “I enjoy both. Maybe you could read to me, and I could continue working on my dress.” She loved the idea of spending time with him, but she really needed her dress to be done as soon as possible.

  “Well, you’re an easy wife to entertain.”

  “I’ve never felt the need for someone to entertain me. I’ll be just fine staying home every night.” Beatrice had never been one to run around with friends instead of reading or simply staying home to do her chores. She believed in living a simple life, so that’s what she did.

  “Sounds good to me. The only real entertainment in this town is the saloon anyway, and I just don’t see you feeling comfortable there.”

  “I don’t either. Do you go there?”

  “No, I never have. I’ve never seen the appeal of working all week to throw my money away on Friday evening. I know so many men who have nothing left of their paycheck at the end of the weekend, though. It’s always made me sad.”

  She frowned. “There’s nothing we can do?”

  “I can’t think of any ways to keep people away, so I just mind my own business, and live my life the way I know I ought to.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and got to his feet. “Lunch was wonderful. Thank you for cooking it for me.”

  “Thank you for marrying me and giving me a place to live and food to cook. I am counting my blessings. My life could have taken a very bad turn if I hadn’t met you on that bench.”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’m the lucky one. I’m very pleased to have you as my wife.”

  As he left, she smiled, thinking that she truly was blessed. Blessed that a man like him had been the first to see her, and not someone like Archie.

  True to his word, after supper that evening, Arthur read to her from one of his books. “This one is called Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain. Have you read it?”

  Beatrice shook her head. “I’ve spent most of my life reading the classics. I have read almost all of Shakespeare’s plays. I’ve had little funds to buy the current popular novels.”

  “I can understand that. It truly is the only way I’ve splurged over my years here. I have always wished there was someone close who shared my love of books, but there was no one.”

  She sat beside him on the couch as she stitched her dress. She’d never made a garment quite as quickly as she was trying to make this one, so it was a new experience. As he read, she laughed at all the appropriate places, imagining the happenings in the story.

  When he finally closed the book, she smiled at him. “Thank you for sharing that lovely story with me.”

  “I can read some more tomorrow evening, if you’d like.”

  She nodded emphatically. “I’m enjoying it very much. It makes the time go by so quickly as I work.” She carefully folded the dress, putting it into a basket she’d purchased to keep her sewing and mending in.

  He moved closer to her on the sofa, his arm going around her shoulders. “When the reverend told us to kiss at the end of the wedding yesterday, I knew that I wanted our first time to be private, when we’d had a little more time to get to know one another.”

  She looked at him with wide eyes, nodding a bit. “I can agree with that.” Did that mean he’d kiss her? She wasn’t sure how she felt about doing something so intimate so soon after meeting him, but they were married.

  “I feel like we’ve done that today. Would you mind if I kissed you?”

  Beatrice looked up into his eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “I’ve never been kissed before, so I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Arthur smiled. “I’ve rarely kissed anyone, and I love the idea of kissing you. If you don’t mind that is.”

  “I don’t.” She lifted her face, waiting as his mouth descended on hers. His lips were soft against hers, and she found she liked it, leaning in closer. Her hands found his shoulders, and she kneaded the muscles under his shirt, before she pulled back, looking up at him with a smile. “You were right. That was much nicer than a rushed first kiss with the reverend watching us the whole while.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” He stroked her arm with one hand. “I’ll say goodnight now.”

  She stood up, taking her sewing basket with her. “Goodnight, Arthur.” She hurried from the room, stopped, then went back. “Is it a bad thing that I’m letting you distract me from my sorrow over the deaths of my parents?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so at all. Your parents would have wanted you to find happiness, wouldn’t they?”

  “They would have. Thank you for helping me find it.” She turned and walked away, not allowing herself to limp until she was out of his view. She’d spent a great deal less time on her ankle today, and it was already feeling a bit better.

  She quickly undressed and slid between the sheets, lying in the bed staring up at the ceiling. She relived the kiss they’d shared over and over, thinking about just how much she enjoyed having his lips pressed against hers. She didn’t know if that made her a wanton woman or not, and she wished her mother were there to talk to. She always knew the right thing to say to Beatrice when she was unsure of herself.

  At that moment it hit her for the first time that her mother would never be there to run to with her troubles again. She wouldn’t be there to hold her first grandchild, or to tell her that she’d done the right thing by marrying so quickly. A life without her father didn’t hit her nearly as hard as the idea of a life without her mother did.

  She wished there was a way for her to ask just a few more questions. For her to hug her mother one more time, but the opportunity was gone…just as her mother was. She rolled to her side, hugging he
r knees to her chest. She would strive to be the kind of mother her own had been as a way to honor her.

  Beatrice fell asleep with a smile on her lips and a tear on her cheek. She felt as if she’d truly said goodbye as she laid there in the dark, whispering to her mother. Telling her how much she’d miss her and the things they’d never do together again. How was it possible to get past the death of a beloved parent? Marrying quickly was a good start. Maybe others wouldn’t see it the same way, but she certainly did. She would live her life as her parents would have wanted. It was the only way to honor them.

  Chapter Three

  It was just past lunch time the following day when Beatrice heard a knock at the door. Arthur was off in his office, so she went to the door and asked, “Who is it?” She carefully kept the door shut, just as Arthur had insisted.

  “I’m Millie Bing, Reverend Bing’s younger sister. I’ve brought you some muffins to welcome you to Colorado. May I come in?” The other woman’s voice was very sweet.

  Beatrice was excited to have someone—anyone—pay her a visit. As much as she enjoyed her time with Arthur, she needed female companionship as well. She opened the door wide, smiling at the girl. She wished her new dress was finished, but she was sure Millie had heard the whole story, so what did it matter that she didn’t look perfect?

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Millie! I’m Beatrice Hart…err…Jameson. I wonder if that name will ever just roll off my tongue.” Beatrice held her hand down at her side, using it to hide the worst of the tears in the dress.

  Millie laughed, a sweet laughed that filled the house. “I’ve been told that women eventually adjust to their new name after marriage, but it’s not easy.”

  “Well, I certainly think that will be the case with me.” Beatrice realized she was still blocking the doorway. “Come in. I want to hear everything there is to know about you.”

  “No, you first.” Millie stepped inside, following Beatrice into the kitchen. “I’m very sorry about your parents.”

  Beatrice frowned, nodding. “I’m still not sure how I survived.” She wanted to tell her about the woman she’d seen, but she was afraid Millie would think she was crazy. She needed friends too much to be willing to risk sounding insane. “I felt like I had to get out of the wagon. I called for my father to stop the horses, and he did. I said I’d walk behind for a while, and the next thing I knew the wagon had tumbled into a ravine.”

  “And you weren’t hurt at all? It sounds like God wanted you to live, so He saved you.”

  “But why would He save me and not my parents?” That was at the core of what bothered her. Shouldn’t God have saved her parents as well?

  Millie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t understand God’s ways all the time, but I’m sure there was a good reason.”

  “I miss them,” Beatrice said softly, wishing she had the right words to express how deeply she felt about it.

  “I understand. What was life like for you back where you came from? I asked my brother…he knew it was an M state, but that’s all he remembered.”

  “I come from Missouri. I was a schoolteacher there, but when my father caught gold fever, he thought I needed to come along as well. So here I am.” Beatrice didn’t add that she’d resented her father for tearing her away from her life, for it wouldn’t do any good to speak ill of the dead. She found she was still angry with him for her mother’s death, even though her anger did no good at all.

  “I’m so sorry. And now you’re here in a place where you know no one, and it’s not really safe to go outside alone. I wish I could say differently, but Creede is not a good place to be.” Millie sighed heavily. “I would love to get more involved in my brother’s ministry, but for the most part, I need to stay home and keep his house. There are bad men everywhere, but Creede seems to have more than its share.”

  “Well, you can visit me anytime you’d like. I would love to have a friend here.”

  “I’d have come yesterday, but one of the ladies in our congregation died. She was giving birth to her fifth child, and something went wrong. I was cooking for them.”

  “That’s so sad! I’d like to pray for them. What are their names?”

  “Lucy is the mother who died in childbirth. Royce is her widower, trying his best to cope with five children. I don’t know how he’s going to do it.”

  Beatrice shook her head. “I can’t even imagine.”

  Millie swiped at a tear. “Well, let me just say that I’m glad to have a friend here. There are some ladies who I spend time with after church on Sundays, but it’s usually while we quilt or do some other thing together. There’s no just sitting around and talking for the sheer joy of having a friend.”

  “Well, then it’s time there is.” Beatrice leaned forward and took Millie’s hand in hers. “I’ve had very few close female friends over the years, but I can see you’re going to be one.”

  “I feel the same about you. I’m so glad you’re here now.” Millie smiled. “Will I see you in church on Sunday?”

  “I don’t think so. After losing my parents on that narrow path, I don’t want to drive it just yet. I hope that eventually I’ll find the courage within me, but I watched their wagon tumble into the ravine. I can’t get the sight of it out of my head.” Beatrice hated keeping herself from doing things she should do, but at least for now, it was what needed to happen.

  “Well, then I’ll have to come visit you as often as I can.”

  “I like that idea. A lot!” Beatrice jumped to her feet. “Where are my manners? Would you like some coffee or tea?” Maybe if she plied her new friend with refreshments, she would visit her more often.

  “Tea would be wonderful, if you don’t mind. And we can have muffins with it.”

  “That sounds absolutely fantastic. Would you mind if I sewed while we chat? I want to finish a dress today. This is all I have. All of my clothes were in the wagon, and Arthur said it wouldn’t be safe to go try to retrieve my things.” When she’d left Missouri, her grandmother had pressed a locket into her hand. It had belonged to her mother before her. Of all the things that were gone, the locket was what she regretted the most. Even more than her books.

  “Oh, please! If you have any mending, I’d be happy to help you out with it.”

  “No, please just sit and talk to me. I’m so happy for the company, I can’t even express it.”

  “You don’t have to express it. As an unmarried female in this area, I understand. I mean I know you’re married, but it’s not the same as if you married a man you’d been courting for a while. You married because there was no other option, and you were in a pickle. My brother told me all about it.”

  “He was kind to marry us immediately. Arthur suggested I go home with him and live with the two of you, because that wouldn’t be improper, but it wouldn’t have been right for your brother and I to be alone for so long…and I don’t think I’d have made it over the pass without screaming until he pushed me out of his wagon.”

  Millie chuckled. “I’ve never seen Callum do anything of the sort—but I’ve never seen him faced with a woman screaming that much, either. So I suppose it’s possible he’d do just that!”

  Beatrice poured the tea into cups and carried them to the table. She set one in front of her new friend and one at a place for herself, then put two small plates on the table. When she’d taken her seat, she reached for one of the muffins. “What kind are they?”

  “Strawberry. I prefer to do a mix of blackberries and raspberries, but they’re not in season. But these are still tasty!”

  “They sound delicious.” Beatrice bit into one of the muffins. “You’ll have to give me your recipe. As a new wife, I’m trying all sorts of recipes out to make my husband happy.”

  “I’d love to share my recipe with you. Callum and I eat them often.” Millie looked around the house. “Are you waiting to make it your own?” The house was obviously decorated by a bachelor.

  “Only as long as I have to!” Beatrice shook her
head. “I thought it would be more important for me to have dresses than for the windows and table to be clothed to my taste.”

  “You have a very good point there. I’m certainly willing to work on a table cloth or curtains while you sew.”

  “I couldn’t take advantage of your friendship that way!”

  “That’s not taking advantage at all. That’s neighbors helping neighbors. If a new woman moved in next to you and needed help, you’d help her. I can tell you’re that kind of woman.”

  Finally, Beatrice nodded. “I’ll fetch the cloth I intend to use. How long will you be in town?”

  “Oh, a couple more hours probably. Callum had business here, so I asked if I could come along. He’ll let me know when he’s ready to go back to Bachelor.” When Beatrice handed Millie the fabric, she smiled. “This is lovely. I think it will work beautifully for your kitchen.”

  The two of them worked together most of the afternoon, with Beatrice getting up a few times to tend to supper. Arthur came into the kitchen at the end of his shift and looked at Millie in surprise.

  “I didn’t know you were here!”

  Beatrice smiled at Arthur, so happy to finally have a friend. “She came to bring me muffins, and there are even a couple of them left. We may have eaten some of them this afternoon.” She was bubbling over with excitement over her new friend. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her day.

  “May have?” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “In other words, you ate most of them and left the crumbs for me?”

  Beatrice laughed. “We left you two whole muffins. You may thank us now.”

  Millie looked amused as she watched them. A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped up, laying her sewing on the table. “Thank you for having me, Beatrice. I’m sure that’s Callum.”

  Beatrice wiped her hands and walked her friend to the door. “Thank you so much for coming over, and for the muffins. It was lovely to just sit with you and talk.”

  “I watched you with Arthur just now. Considering you’ve only known one another for a few days, I can see you’re going to be very happy together.”

 

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