Polly was cooking breakfast when we walked back in the house. She was wearing a soft yellow dress, and it highlighted the golden flecks in her warm brown eyes. She smiled and kissed him after accepting the flowers, and as she pulled away, her grin was slightly goofy. Jeremiah’s heart leapt in his chest, and he wrapped his hands around hers, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
“Pollyanna, these two months have been like a dream,” he said earnestly. “I’ve never been so happy. I hope you’ve been happy, too.”
Polly’s smile wavered. “I have,” she said cautiously.
Jeremiah hesitated, but decided to press on. “I’ve gotten to know you, and I’ve grown to love you. You’ve changed my life, Pollyanna. You’ve changed me. I want you to make me an honest man. Please, will you marry me?”
He expected her to laugh, gasp, or even cry in response to his proposal; he didn’t expect the complete lack of reaction he was met with instead. Polly stared at him, her mouth slightly open, but her voice frozen in her chest. The seconds dragged by, and Jeremiah’s heart started to pound in his chest. What was going on? Was he wrong—again?
“Jeremiah,” Polly said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m still not ready.”
It was like she’d slapped him, or even punched him in the stomach. His elation drained away, and misery and confusion surged through his body in twin rivers to fill the void. “I…I don’t understand. Why aren’t you ready? What am I doing wrong?”
Polly’s cheeks pinkened, and she pulled her hands from his. “It’s hard to explain, Jeremiah.”
“Try,” he demanded. “Please try to.”
Polly closed her eyes. “Why won’t you just let me take my time?”
“Because you won’t tell me why!” the words came in a shout, and Polly’s eyes flew open. He saw fear in them, but he surged ahead anyway. “You’re making me think I’ve done something wrong, Polly. If I’ve done something wrong, let me fix it! If not, stop punishing me for whoever did wrong you! Do you know how it feels to have someone turn away from you on the street? Are you that disgusted with me, is that it?”
Polly’s eyes were swimming with unshed tears now. “No. It’s just…”
“You’re ‘wary of the miners’ lifestyle,” Jeremiah finished for her angrily. “You’re convinced I’m going to run off with a parlor girl, is that it?”
“No!”
“Then what is it? What is it Polly?” He took a step toward her, and then another, his voice softening until his tone was pleading. “What happened? Did a miner destroy your family? Did a miner break your heart?”
“No!” Polly shouted. “He broke my mother’s heart, and he dropped in and out of my life as he pleased. He was a viol, boozing, womanizing thief, and my whole life I looked up to him and waited for him to love me. Then he drank himself to death in the arms of a parlor house girl, and she took all his money and left him there.” The tears finally began to spill down her cheeks, but she kept talking. “But I never knew that, Jeremiah. I never knew any of that. My mother told me my Daddy was a traveling salesman and that he was off peddling his wares, and that was why I only saw him a few days a year. Then he died a year and a half ago, and my mother told me the truth. My father was a monster, Jeremiah, but I never saw that side of him. The father I knew was a lie. How could a man hide himself from me for twenty-five years?”
She was sobbing now, and Jeremiah pulled her into his arms, his heart folding under the weight of his remorse. “I’m sorry, Polly. I’m so sorry. But I would never hurt you. I would never dream of treating you like that. I love you, Polly.”
As soon as he said the words, she stopped crying; neither of them had ever said it aloud before now.
She pulled back from him, wiping her tears away. “I love you, too, Jeremiah,” she said softly, and his heart nearly exploded with joy. “But it’s not enough.”
“What?”
Polly dropped her eyes. “The fear will never go away. It’s always going to be there in me, whenever you go out. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose part of myself to you and then have you rip it away. It happened to my mother. She was never the same.”
Panic flooded Jeremiah, and he tried to pull her close to him again. “Polly, please. Please, just trust me. Just let me show you that I mean it.”
Polly shook her head and moved away from him, her eyes filling with tears again. “Jeremiah, just leave me be. I’m sorry. We’ll figure something out later, okay? I’ll get back to New York on my own. I’m sorry.”
She turned and ran from the room, and as he heard the door slam, he realized the bacon was burning.
Chapter 4
Jeremiah left the house and walked around the town, trying to expend his nervous energy as he strode the streets and alleyways of Sutter Creek. He went by the foundry and said hello to Isaac, who invited him to work with him on a part for a factory that was to be shipped out the next day. It took his mind away from his troubles for a while, and he felt calmer as he strolled home. The sun was setting, and when he pushed open the door, the kitchen was exactly as he’d left it that morning, with no sign of Polly having made lunch or supper. He could see the glow of a lamp from under the door, but he heard no movement that indicated she was packing or working. He thought about knocking, but he couldn’t work up the nerve, and finally turned from the door and retreated into his own room to nip into his bottle of gin before dipping into a dreamless sleep.
He rose and left for work after eating a cold breakfast of fruit, cheese, and bread, unable to stomach anything more. Jeremiah was exhausted, and it showed; Fred kept asking if he needed a break when he saw him throughout his ten-hour shift.
“I’m fine,” Jeremiah snapped continually, but he was working far slower than he did on most days, and his thoughts kept drifting back to Polly. What if she leaves? You shouldn’t have left. You should have stayed and talked to her.
He couldn’t silence his internal monologue, so when Fred asked him if he was okay for the fiftieth time, he couldn’t contain his anger.
“No, I’m not okay Fred—and you won’t be okay if you keep asking.”
Fred stepped back in surprise, his pick axe dangling from his hand.
“Jeremiah,” said a voice behind him.
Jeremiah turned toward the voice, and his heart sank. It was Samuel, and he was beckoning him closer. He waited until he was within earshot, and braced himself for the reprimand that he knew was coming.
Samuel put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You look like you haven’t had much sleep.”
Jeremiah was too tired to hide his surprise. “I’m fine, Sam.”
Sam smiled. “You don’t look fine. This isn’t an option. Take the day off.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll take the day off.”
Jeremiah walked past his fellow miners dejectedly until he emerged into the sunlight, pulling his wool coat around his body to shield himself from the sudden breeze. He walked east, toward a wide patch of empty space populated with more wildflowers and strangely empty of other life. This was an area that was usually filled with children, but they were all in school by now, so he had the field and a view the wide creed behind it all to himself. Jeremiah sat in the grass for longer than he meant to; he dozed off, and when he woke, his watch told him he’d been out of the mine for four hours. I guess I am a lot more tired than I thought. Maybe I should go home to sleep. He turned northwest toward home, then changed his mind and turned southwest toward the Knight Foundry, intending to see if Isaac was too busy to see him again.
But the Foundry was closed, so he turned around and walked home. No one was outside the mine when he walked past again, and the streets were oddly deserted. He felt like Rip Van Winkle, looking at all the empty spaces that were usually so constantly bustling—had he slept for a hundred years? Had Sutter Creek become a ghost town?
He pushed open the door and was shocked to find Rose cradling Polly as she sobbed onto her shoulder. Neither of them moved at first, and it al
most felt intrusive for him to be there.
“Ladies?” Jeremiah said hesitantly.
They both looked up, and their reactions were astounding. Rose stood and yelped, and Polly shrieked so loud the hairs on his arm stood on end. They both rushed forward, but Polly got to him first, and she nearly knocked him down with the force of her hug. Her lips clamped onto his, and he shivered as that familiar burst of electricity seized hold of him and heated every cell in his body.
“How?” Rose was saying wearily. “You were gone. They couldn’t find you.”
Polly pulled back from him, tears still streaming from her eyes. She still couldn’t speak, so Jeremiah looked a question at Rose.
“There was an explosion at the mine,” she said tearfully. “They put the fire out, but they found two unconscious bodies. No one found yours, so the rescuers reported you dead.”
“I thought you were dead,” Polly said breathlessly. “I thought—”
Her tears overtook her again, and Rose left the room quietly, leaving Jeremiah to hold Polly to his chest. His mind was whirling with panic and relief, but he was mostly just happy to be holding her again—and, most of all, happy to find that she hadn’t packed up and left. He could hear voices outside now, and wondered if Rose was telling people he was alive.
He waited for her to stop crying and guided her to the sofa, wiping her tears away with a handkerchief. “Polly, I’m okay. Are you okay?”
She sniffed and nodded, brushing a few stray brown curls away from her forehead. “I’m okay now.”
Jeremiah hesitated before speaking. “Polly, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I had no right to push you. Take as much time as you need. I’m just happy you’re in my life. Having you here is enough for me. We can even keep sleeping in separate bedrooms, and—”
“Jeremiah,” Polly cut in, “I’m ready.”
His heart stopped, and he almost didn’t dare to believe her words. “Really? But…what changed?”
Polly smiled, and it warmed his heart like a gentle flame. “I did, Jeremiah. You changed me. And…your brother did, too.”
Jeremiah let out a startled laugh. “What? How? Found a nun’s habit in his room?”
Polly blushed. “No, but there’s something else I didn’t tell you about why I don’t approve of the miners’ lifestyle.”
Fear flooded Jeremiah’s body. “What is it?”
Polly took in a deep breath. “It’s the mines. So many women are widowed by those damn mines. I already love you, Jeremiah; what happens if we get married and I lose you? You already have a hold on my heart. You’d rip it out of me if you left.” She started to cry again, and Jeremiah felt his heart start to split apart.
But she wasn’t finished. “And that brings me back to your brother. I talked to Rose and she had me talk to some other women who knew your brother, and even though they all agreed he was—promiscuous,” she said, blushing more deeply, “they always loved having him in their life. He really was a sweet, gentle, hardworking man—like you. He just had fun in a way that not everyone approved of. But he was loved.” Polly took his hands and smiled. “He was so loved, and everyone agreed they were better for it. Rose told me that even though she lost her man, she still got something great to out of their relationship—her baby.”
Jeremiah’s heartbeat quickened. “Are you thinking about babies?”
Polly laughed. “No, not yet, at least. But you can offer me something now. Something I’ve known I can get from you for a long time, but something I’ve been paralyzed with fear to let myself want.”
Jeremiah held his breath.
“Jeremiah Smith, will you…pose for a painting for me?”
There was silence, and then he burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Polly asked, her lips curving at the corners.
“I’m not a model, Polly.”
She smiled. “No, but won’t you do it for your bride?”
He pulled her into his arms and started to cover her face with kisses, and he didn’t stop until she giggled and squirmed free.
“So…you’re ready?”
Polly nodded and slipped her hands into his, squeezing his palms as she gazed into his eyes. “I’m ready, Jeremiah. Are you ready?”
“Of course,” he answered. Jeremiah pulled her to him again and kissed her gently, savoring the softness of her lips as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. As he looked into her deep brown eyes, he could hardly believe his luck.
“I’m glad you’re ready, because I have some designs for a dress I’d like to show you—and your suit, if you’ll allow me,” she said sheepishly.
Jeremiah smiled, then laughed aloud as a thought occurred to him, and Polly looked at him curiously.
“What’s so funny about wearing my designs?”
“Nothing,” he swore. “But I just realized—I’ve been a miner for five years, and only now have I finally struck gold.”
Polly paused, then burst into loud, body-shaking laughter. When she finally calmed down, she reached up on tiptoe to kiss him again.
“I love you, Jeremiah Smith. Never change.”
His heart swelled in his chest until it felt like hot air balloon. “I love you, too, Pollyanna Clark.”
She smiled at him demurely. “I think it’s time you started calling me Mrs. Smith, don’t you?”
THE END
A Mail Order Bride For Lewis
Brides Of Sutter Creek
Charity Phillips
A Mail Order Bride For Lewis
Sutter Creek, California – 1852
Lewis Brown has the greenest thumb in Sutter Creek—and the loneliest heart.
The gentle farmer provides produce to more than a thousand residents, but he can’t seem to get a single woman to slow down and give him the time of day. To top it off, one of his best farmhands is getting married to a beautiful young woman and is moving out of state—only months after meeting her through a mail order bride service.
Lewis is skeptical, but if love can bloom through the mail between a nurse and a farmhand, it can flourish anywhere.
Chapter 1
“Hiya, Lewis!”
Maxine’s high voice crashed against his eardrum like a cannon blast. The greeting never failed to make him jump out of his skin, but he felt a smile start to spread across his face before his eyes landed on the wrinkled old matron nonetheless. Boone’s General store was his first stop every morning, not only because it was his biggest delivery, but Maxine’s voice was a better wake-up call than any coffee a man could grow.
“Hello, Maxine!” Lewis rolled the handcart of crated goods through the open door, taking care to avoid clipping the hem of Maxine’s heather gray dress with the wood. “How are you?”
“Fine, fine,” she said distractedly. “And you? Got that extra order of tomatoes?”
“Yes, and the peas,” Lewis said pleasantly. “Everything’s here, even the apples. How’s Rose?”
“Good!” Maxine barked, turning her eyes around her spotless store restlessly as she spoke. “Ivan, where’s that payment?”
Lewis removed the cap from his unruly black hair and mopped his misty forehead with his handkerchief. “That scamp. Bet he’s out back with his pipe; I saw him at it last week. I can just get your payment tomorrow, no problem. I know you don’t like to be in debt, but I know where you live, after all.”
Maxine looked him up and down thoughtfully, placing one hand on her bony hip as she squinted at him with her half-blind eyes. “You’re in cheerier mood than usual, Brown. What’s new?”
Lewis laughed and shoved his wool cap back on his head. “Good haul this season. Also, I’ve got some lovely flowers blooming—daisies, roses, even a nice crop of tiger lilies. I’ll bring a few for you and Rose.” He paused. “And Ivan. Wouldn’t want him to feel left out.”
Maxine laughed, a barking, ragged sound that Lewis loved to hear. “Let him. Maybe if he feels left out enough, he’ll join in on work more often.”
Lewis s
miled. “I have a feeling it would take a little more than not getting flowers to scare him out of his bad habits.”
Maxine arched one thin eyebrow and patted the small gray knot of hair atop her head. “I have a feeling it’s a little more than your flowers that’ve got you feeling so cheery. So, tell me what’s really new?”
Lewis shoved his hands in his pockets bashfully. “I guess it’s just…”
The sound of something tumbling to the wooden floors in the back room pulled Maxine’s attention away. “I’ll get you that payment tomorrow!” she shouted as she shuffled away.
He could her hear her continuing to shout as he moved away, and even as he started to pull away in his carriage; Lewis shuddered as he imagined the sort of mess Ivan had caused to deserve such a thrashing. For a moment, he felt an odd sort of superiority—the only people who ever yelled at him never did again for fear of losing his home delivery service, and he had no one to answer to at any time. But the feeling was also tinged with something he couldn’t quite name—jealousy? He scoffed; why would he be jealous of Ivan?
Lewis’ wide carriage rolled onto the main street, passing bearded miners on their way to work, children holding hands as they strolled to school with jam on their ruddy faces, and even a few portly, red-nosed men stumbling away from—or toward—the Sunset Saloon. The sun was still low in the sky, but the mining town was already awake and coursing with life, motion and vigorous energy; hundreds of people all drifting and joining as they lived their own lives. Morning was the best time to see people as they really were, before the light of day forced them to crawl back into the protective shells that everyone grew once they got older. Almost everyone waved when they saw him, and he tossed a few apples to the children making their way to learn from Miss Wiggins and Miss Stanley.
Brides of Grasshopper Creek Page 46
