“She does?”
“Oh yes, very much.”
“I don’t know.” He pinched the back of his neck, trying to loosen the muscles that continued to knot there. “I don’t know anything about her.”
“She’s a lovely woman. Won’t you give her a chance?” When he didn’t answer, Sophia put her hands together as if in prayer, and she rose up on her tip-toes. “Please, Mr. Esterly. She has nowhere else to go. If you turn her away, I don’t know what she’ll do.”
David grunted in distain. Another woman, one who was desperate, or else why would she want to marry a man she’d never communicated with? For all she knew, he could be 90 years old, bed-ridden, and covered in boils. Apparently, any man who could provide a home and a last name would do. And David, being a man of good character, who tried to always do what was right, saw there was only one thing to do.
“I will meet her.”
***
From her hiding place beside the middle wagon, Caroline watched as Sophia broke the bad news to Mr. Esterly. His reaction was hard to gauge. There had been confusion, certainly, and a bit of disappointment. But he hadn’t gone into a rage, nor had he smiled. Not that she expected him to be happy about the situation, but at least he hadn’t stormed off. He was still talking, and that was a good sign.
Sophia pointed in Caroline’s direction, and the two of them walked toward her. The three letters she held in her hand, already worn and creased from multiple readings and foldings, now became slightly crumpled as her fingers tightened nervously around them. Eleanor had given Sophia the letters in hopes that a woman would take her place. It was a miracle, really, how events had transpired. Caroline had arrived at Sophia’s doorstep only moments after Eleanor had been to the house, delivered her unfortunate news, and then left. If not for that, Caroline might not have found a way out of Maine. She might have been thrown into jail, or worse.
A chill ran through her, but she shook it off. Now wasn’t the time to think about what had happened in Maine. That was her past, and she’d do well to leave it behind her where it belonged. Now, she needed to concentrate on the man who had stopped a few feet away.
Sophia introduced them and Caroline, not knowing exactly what to do, stuck out her hand. Mr. Esterly looked at it with the wariness of someone facing down a wild animal. She had to say something.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Esterly.”
As she waited for him to respond, someone called out to Sophia. “I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you two to work this out. Please excuse me.”
As Sophia hurried off, Mr. Esterly finally took her hand. After a brief shake, he pulled away and stuffed both of his hands into his trouser pockets. Caroline understood the sign for Please don’t touch me again, and primly laced her fingers together and pressed them tightly against her stomach.
“It’s my understanding…” Mr. Esterly broke off his thought, then cleared his throat and tried again. “Miss Webster informed me…This is ridiculous.” He shook his head and stared at the ground.
Tears pricked at Caroline’s eyes. No, not tears. Not now. She had no idea how he’d react to them. Right now, it was essential she put her best foot forward. “I’m very sorry.”
His head jerked up and he looked directly at her. “I was referring to the situation, not you, Miss...uh…”
It was Mrs., even though she was a widow, but she didn’t correct him. “Buchanan.”
“Yes, Miss Buchanan. This is a difficult situation, so I think it best to be blunt and speak plainly. Do you agree?”
Caroline nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Good. Miss Buchanan, I intended to meet my bride today. I was expecting a woman I’d corresponded with and who I thought I knew. Or at least, was getting to know. But now I’m told she’s not coming, and here we are, two strangers meeting for the first time.”
This was it. He was going to reject her. The air in her lungs seemed to have hardened, making breathing quite difficult. She wanted to run and hide, but she had to do something. “Mr. Esterly, I promise, I will make a good wife. I can cook, and sew, and clean, and–”
“Wait.” He held his hand up to staunch her flow of words. “I’m not doubting your abilities to be a good wife. I just, well, how do you know that I’ll be a good husband? I suppose I’m worried that you won’t find me suitable.”
Caroline held up the letters and waved them in front of him. “Oh, but I have gotten to know you, at least a little.”
He frowned. “Are those the letters I sent to Miss Buzby?”
His hand shot out and she stepped backward, ducking her head and lifting her hands to shield her face. “I’m sorry.”
Gentle fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her hand down. Mr. Esterly looked at her with a mix of confusion and compassion. “It’s all right. I was only reaching for the letters, but you can keep them.”
A shaky breath escaped Caroline’s lips. She was making a mess of everything. Once again, she said the one thing that had been her mainstay for the last four years. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Esterly let go of her wrist, but didn’t put distance between them. Instead, he closed his eyes, as if in prayer, or deep thought. When he opened them again, something told Caroline he’d made up his mind.
“I came here to get my bride, and you came to meet your husband. Despite a few unexpected details, I’m willing to go through with it if you are.”
Not happy, not excited, but willing. Something in Caroline wilted. Still, what did she expect? Love at first sight? For him to take one look at her and proclaim her the woman of his dreams? He didn’t know her at all. But she knew something of him. She’d read his letters, over and over, to the point that pieces of them stuck in her brain like well-memorized verses of scripture. She’d imagined the kind of man he was, what kind of life she could have with him. In truth, she’d already developed a fondness for him. If he agreed to marry her, for any reason, she should be happy.
Screwing up her courage, Caroline looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, Mr. Esterly. I would be happy to marry you.”
3
She was the saddest bride he’d ever seen. Or maybe the most scared. David couldn’t tell for sure, since both emotions seemed to fight for supremacy over Caroline’s mood.
Unlike most of the other brides, Caroline hadn’t brought anything special for their union. No wedding dress, no family Bible to hold, no necklace passed down by her mother. Thankfully, Nina Reynolds loaned her a bouquet of silk flowers that she clutched like a drowning woman clutching a life preserver. If Caroline was disappointed to be married in the clerk’s office rather than a church, she didn’t say so. In fact, other than repeating the wedding vows, she didn’t say much of anything.
The one positive reaction she had was when Homer Reynolds directed him to present the ring. As David withdrew it from his shirt pocket, Caroline let out a low sigh. It was a simple, gold band with delicate vine work etched across the surface. But when he slid it on her finger, it may as well have been part of the crown jewels. Her smile, the first he’d seen from her, lit up her face, transforming her features from pleasant to radiant. It was the only indication that she wasn’t completely miserable.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Wyoming, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Homer puffed out his chest and grinned at David. “Well, go ahead, young man. Kiss your bride.”
And just like that, Caroline returned to her earlier, scared state. He still held her hand, the one that wore his ring. She tried to pull it away, but he tightened his grip. They were wed, now. He’d go slow, but they had to move forward and get to know each other. He leaned close, trying to ignore how her eyes grew wide with fear, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Congratulations!” Nina shouted with joy and threw a handful of something up in the air. As it plunked down on their heads, she laughed. “It’s supposed to be rice, but I haven’t seen any of that in months. So, dried beans it is.”
Dav
id struggled to hold his smile as a bean thumped the top of his ear. “Thank you, Nina. And thank you, Homer. Caroline and I should be going now. I’m sure we’re not your last ceremony.”
Homer chuckled. “Far from it. Fact is, you’re only my second so far. I expect there’ll be a line forming at the door soon.”
David held his crooked elbow up for Caroline to take. She hesitated, then slid her hand through and offered him a glimmer of a smile. As he led her outside, David couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.
***
From reading his letters, Caroline knew that David was a blacksmith. His business was at the end of the town’s one street, and behind it was his home. No, not his home… their home. He was taking her to their home. This was where she would live, maybe for the rest of her life. Compared to Maine, the air was dry and still. It smelled of wood and dirt and a few other things.
“Look out.”
David pulled her slightly off course just in time to miss stepping in a pile of horse droppings.
“Thank you,” she said as a blush heated her cheeks. Heavens, she’d barely been there an hour and already she missed sidewalks.
“You’ll get used to watching for road hazards when you walk. Our town isn’t much, but we’re building something important. Something that will last.”
His tone was almost apologetic, as if he was trying to convince her that living there wouldn’t be so bad. She had to find a way to let him know how grateful she was.
“I’m sure it will get better soon.” Oh dear, that didn’t sound right. “Not that it isn’t good now. That’s not what I meant. It’s lovely.”
David chuckled and patted her hand. “You were right the first time. It will get better soon.” He looked down at her. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s better already.”
Caroline drew in a relieved breath. Of course, any man would be happy to gain a wife, someone to take care of the cooking and cleaning so he could concentrate on making a living. She was relieved that he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the woman he expected to show up, hadn’t, and he had essentially ended up with a consolation prize.
David stopped and motioned to the wagons which were still blocking most of the street. “We can make arrangements for your trunk to be delivered to the house.”
She stared at him for a moment, then blurted out, “I don’t have a trunk.”
“All right. Luggage, or bags. How much did you bring?”
“Just this.” She lifted the carpet bag.
Eyes wide, David looked back and forth between her and the wagons, as if unsure that she understood him. “You travelled all the way from Maine, and all you have is that one bag?”
“Yes.” Memories assaulted Caroline. Her father, finding her, tending to her. He had a plan. He knew of a woman gathering mail order brides for men in Wyoming. Only take what you absolutely need, he’d said. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. You have to get out of town. Collin, on the floor, blood congealing in a puddle beneath his head. Father said he’d take care of everything.
It was difficult to breathe. The air was too thick and heavy to draw it into her lungs. Vision narrowing, as if looking down a dark, endless tunnel. Hands grasped her, fingers tightened around her arms. Collin. He’d found her. She tried to pull away.
“Caroline.”
The voice, calm and gentle, pulled her back from the edge of hysteria. No, not Collin. Her vision cleared, and she looked up at David. His eyes were so different from what she was used to seeing. They showed concern, confusion, but no anger.
“Are you all right? It looked like you couldn’t breathe.”
She couldn’t tell him. She was building their marriage on a lie, but she had no choice. “It’s the air here. It’s so different from Maine. I…I’m sorry.”
His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He pointed down at her bag. “So that’s all you brought?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, we can go straight home.”
With one hand gently on her elbow, he began walking, taking her with him. Home. He was taking her home. She prayed what she found there was better than what she had run from.
4
His new bride was a mystery in more ways than one. Other than her name and the fact that she came from Maine, he knew nothing about her. He knew less about her than the other men knew about their brides. At least they had the benefit of letters to make their acquaintance. But thanks to her replacement status, he didn’t even have that. And now, her strange reaction when he’d questioned why she’d brought so few belongings with her. It was almost as if she was afraid.
Glancing her way, David considered the woman who walked beside him. It seemed she was the opposite of the woman he’d expected in every way. Eleanor had described herself as short, with brown hair and brown eyes. Caroline was tall for a woman, only a few inches shorter than his own six feet, with a willowy figure. Her hair was a stunning mixture of red and gold strands, reminding him of the fire in his blacksmith shop. And her eyes were a stormy gray-blue, like the Wyoming sky in winter.
Caroline must have felt him staring, for she turned those stormy eyes on him. “Is everything all right?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled, hoping to reassure her. In the brief time they’d been together, he’d noticed that she apologized even when there was no reason for it, as though she considered herself at fault for everything that went wrong. He would have to make sure she knew better.
A few minutes later, David stopped walking and made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Here we are. This is my shop.”
She eyed the closed door, and David imagined what she must be thinking. The building was rough, but sturdy. He’d used whatever he could get his hands on, starting with scrap wood until he earned enough to afford new planks. Later, he’d show her the inside, but for now, he expected she was more interested in the living quarters behind the shop.
“Can we go in?”
David looked at her, surprised. “You want to?”
“If it’s all right.” Her eyes grew a bit wider, and she looked as though she was ready to apologize again.
“Of course it’s all right.” He smiled as he fished the key out of his pants pocket. “I’m glad my wife is interested in the family business.”
A blush colored her cheeks as the corners of her mouth raised in a tentative smile. She truly was a lovely woman.
He swung the door open, then motioned for her to enter first. Following close behind, he took in the dingy exterior as if seeing it for the first time. The embers in the fire pit slept as always, casting off a dull orange glow as they waited for him to stir them to life. The tools of his trade – clunky, heavy metal objects – hung from pegs on the walls and cluttered a variety of mismatched tables and benches. And over everything was an ever-present layer of soot. David had never been ashamed of his profession, but at that moment, he began to wonder how he’d ever thought a lady with any level of refinement would be attracted to such a lowly way of life.
Caroline stepped closer to the anvil and reached out as if to touch it.
“Look out!” David jumped forward and grabbed her wrist.
She gasped in surprise. “Is it hot?”
“No, not now. But it’s dirty. Everything in here, well, it’s always dirty.”
Caroline blinked at him, then pursed her lips in an impish fashion. “I’ve never been afraid of a little dirt, Mr. Esterly. If I’m to be the wife of a blacksmith, I’d best become familiar with how you do your work.”
Finally, it seemed Caroline had found the courage to assert herself, at least a little. But there was something he had to correct. “You’re right. And as my wife, you should also start calling me by my given name.” She said nothing, just stared at him with those stormy eyes of hers. So he helped her along. “David.”
“David, of course. Yes. David.” Her cheeks turned the most becoming shade of pink. She looked down at
his hand, which still held her wrist, and sighed. “It seems I have quite a lot to learn.”
He moved his hand from her wrist to her shoulder. “I believe we both do. Thank heavens we don’t need to learn it all in one day.” He led her to the back door. “Would you like to see your new home now?”
She nodded her head sharply. “Yes, I would.” She stopped in her tracks, turned to him and looked him right in the eye. “Thank you very much. David.” Then she swept through the door as if she were marching up a gang plank to board a ship bound for adventure.
David chuckled as he followed her. Adventure was probably a good word for what they embarked on.
***
Caroline hadn’t known what to expect from the blacksmith shop. Obviously, they had them in Maine, but she’d always been more at home amongst the boats than with the horses. As they walked the few feet between the smithy and the house, Caroline looked down at the ground and wondered about her father. He’d said he would take care of everything, but what did he do? It hadn’t been right to leave him to clean up her mess, but he’d insisted. Her conscious poked her with sharp barbs of guilt. She’d taken a life. Yes, it had been an accident, and she’d been defending herself, but that didn’t make it any less of a sin. And now, here she was with her new husband. Every day she didn’t tell him the truth was a lie of omission. What kind of penance was there for a sin you knew you had to keep committing?
“Here we are.”
Her head jerked up to find herself standing in front of the door to a small but lovely house. There was no spare wood used here. The planks were so new, she could still see sap residue around a few of the nails. There was a window made of real glass off to the side of the front door, and beneath the window frame he’d hung a box and planted daisies.
“I hope you like it.” David’s voice cracked, as if he was suddenly hesitant to speak. “As soon as Jacob told me about his idea to send for brides, I started building it.”
Christmas Mail Order Angels: The complete 11 Volume Set Page 29
