Leora: Bride of California (American Mail-Order Bride 31)

by Kit Morgan

  “Thank you,” Leora said and sat on a small settee.

  “I’ll see about some tea,” Mrs. Rutherford said, then left the parlor and disappeared down the front hall. From the look and sheer size of the place, Leora assumed the Rutherfords kept servants, but she could be wrong.

  After a few moments, Mrs. Rutherford returned to the parlor and sat. “Tea will be served momentarily. Now, what is it you want?”

  “I told you,” Leora said. “I just came for a visit.”

  “Young woman, if there’s anything I’ve learned living in this town, it’s that no one comes to this house simply to pay a visit. Now, what is it?”

  Leora studied her. The woman sat stiff as a board, her hands in her lap, eyes narrowed in challenge. “Mrs. Rutherford, I assure you, I came here with no ulterior motive. To be honest, I wanted to make sure you are all right.”

  Mrs. Rutherford’s features softened. “Why? What’s supposed to be wrong with me?”

  “I know I embarrassed you a few weeks ago when I questioned you about the announcements for the Christmas play.”

  “An oversight on my part. What am I supposed to do about it now?”

  “You don’t have to do anything as far as I’m concerned. The issue’s been resolved. Rehearsals are going splendidly and everyone is very excited about performing on Christmas Eve. But I can’t help but notice that… you haven’t been yourself since.”

  Mrs. Rutherford pressed her lips together again and looked away for a moment. “Mrs. Drake,” she said and faced her again. “Have you ever been tired?”

  Leora blinked at her a few times. “Who hasn’t?”

  “No, I mean, really tired?”

  “Perhaps I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “I’m tired of my life, Mrs. Drake,” she said. “My husband is a very influential man in this town, and expects me to be the same. And, I suppose I’ve succeeded at that. I’ve been doing it for years. But it hasn’t made me a better person. Instead I’ve turned into … well, into my father. People were always coming here seeking his help, usually financial. They never came because of him or my family. They never came just to … visit.”

  “But only because they wanted something,” Leora stated.

  “Exactly.” Mrs. Rutherford swallowed hard as if holding back tears. “I have no friends, Mrs. Drake. No real friends. Unlike you.”

  “My friends, Mrs. Rutherford, are spread across the country now. I may never see a lot of them again. I’ll be lucky to see my own sister this coming year. We all had to leave Massachusetts as mail-order brides because the factory where we worked burned down.”

  “That’s a pity. But you’ll make new friends. It’s my guess you already have.”

  “Not really. Everyone wants me on this or that committee because…” she snapped her mouth shut.

  “I know what you were about to say – because they want me off of them.”

  “Mrs. Rutherford … I didn’t mean …”

  Ophelia raised a hand to stop her. “I knew what you meant. I haven’t made friends of the women here, only intimidated them. Just like my father intimidated everyone in this town. I could die tomorrow and no one would care.”

  “Oh, but that couldn’t be true,” Leora said with a shake of her head. “Your husband would be devastated if anything happened to you. And what about your children?”

  Mrs. Rutherford bowed her head. “Robert and I never had children.”

  Leora stared at her, wide-eyed. How did she not know that? But she didn’t – this was the first she’d heard of it. How lonely must this woman be! “Mrs. Rutherford, would you and your husband like to come to our house for Christmas dinner?”

  Twelve

  The next few weeks were the busiest of Leora’s life. Not only did she have the Christmas play and winter concerts to see to, but the Ladies’ Society for Godly Living was already pestering her about a number of issues. So much for the presidency starting in January.

  The orphanage planning committee also wanted a share of her time, and though the project was something she wholeheartedly believed in, she found herself questioning some of the logistics. After all, Nevada City wasn’t some overcrowded metropolis with orphans cluttering the streets trying to survive. But others on the committee explained they would be taking in orphans from the Sacramento Valley, not just the immediate area, and she understood. She’d feared they’d have a near-empty building otherwise.

  But first came the urgent matters – like Christmas Eve. “Last night’s dress rehearsal went well, don’t you think?” Mrs. Pleet asked as she poured Leora a cup of tea.

  “Yes, very. Everyone knows their lines and there weren’t any mishaps. I think we’re going to have a fine play this year. Not that I have anything to compare it to,” she added with a chuckle. “How have the performances been in the past?”

  “Oh, some years better than others. But I suppose that’s to be expected – not everyone plays the same parts every year, and thank Heaven for that!”

  “You mean like Mrs. Gaston playing Joseph?” Leora asked with a smile.

  “I mean, as in that grouchy old harpy Mrs. Rutherford playing the angel Gabriel!”

  Leora felt a pang of sympathy for Mrs. Rutherford. She now knew more about the woman, and couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. “What part does she normally play?”

  “Something different every year. But she still tries to run everything even when she’s not in charge. You’ve had a taste of that.”

  “True, but she’s been very well behaved lately, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes … come to think of it, the old bat’s been pretty quiet.”

  Leora took a sip of her tea then set the cup and saucer on the table. “I think Mrs. Rutherford has turned over a new leaf.”

  “Ha! That’ll be the day.”

  “You never know. People do change.”

  “I’ve yet to see that woman be anything but a cold, heartless harridan,” Mrs. Pleet said with a curt nod.

  Leora’s face sobered. “Then how do you explain her behavior of late? She hasn’t been doing her usual complaining. In fact, she’s been positively agreeable. Maybe she just needs a few real friends …”

  “Friends? Who would want to be friends with her? The only reason people follow her around is because –”

  “But they’re not following her around,” Leora interrupted. “Haven’t you noticed?”

  Mrs. Pleet sat and stared off into space as she thought about it. “Well, I’ll be – you’re right. She hasn’t had more than just a few stragglers following her around the last couple of weeks.”

  “Exactly. As I said, maybe she’s turning over a new leaf.”

  Mrs. Pleet poured herself another cup of tea. “I’ll believe it when I see it!”

  “I thought we just established that you are seeing it,” Leora said with a chuckle.

  “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Pleet said. “But I’ve been around Ophelia Rutherford for years. I think maybe she just caught a cold. As soon as she feels better she could be back to her old self.”

  Leora swallowed a sigh and picked up her teacup. A bad reputation was indeed a hard thing to escape from. She’d visited Mrs. Rutherford numerous times over the last few weeks, and slowly but surely the woman was opening up to her. She was a deeply unhappy woman, lonely, with no real friends. Her husband ignored her, living only for his work. She had no children to delight in, which meant no grandchildren …

  “Of course,” Leora said to herself.

  “What was that, dear?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Leora said and set down her cup. “I’d best be going. I have work to do at the church office. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Of course not – you’re a busy woman now. You go take care of your business and tell that handsome husband of yours hello for me.”

  “I will,” Leora said as she stood. She put on her coat and hat, then headed out the door. The truth was, she had too much business now, more than she could do alone and sti
ll manage to take care of her new husband. Everything Ophelia Rutherford had been involved in, the townspeople had managed to shove on her in the hope of replacing Ophelia.

  And Ophelia was letting them. After she’d confessed her weariness to Leora weeks ago, the woman had seemed to isolate herself more each day. Even Leora knew it wasn’t healthy for her. What kind of life would she have, staying cooped up in that big house of hers with no one to talk to and no one to love her?

  Leora understood what that felt like – she hadn’t had a chance to really talk with Theron in days. By the time she got home, cooked dinner and did the dishes, she was exhausted. No energy for “dessert,” certainly …

  Speaking of dessert (the culinary variety), she decided to stop by the mercantile and pick up a few things so she wouldn’t have to come back later. She was about to go in when a young man approached. “Leora! Darling! I can’t stand this anymore!” he said loudly.

  “What?” Leora asked, confused.

  He threw his arms around her and she gasped in shock. “You must tell him – tell him about us!” To top off his dramatics he yanked her to him, kissed her, then pulled his face away and said, “I’ll meet you in the usual spot!” He then ran down the mercantile steps into the street, jumped onto a horse and galloped away.

  Leora stood in shock.

  “Mrs. Drake!” someone cried. Apparently she wasn’t the only one shocked. She turned to see Mrs. Oliver at the bottom of the mercantile steps shaking her head in disgust, her mouth half-open. Several other people were staring at her with the same expression. Leora’s eyes widened as realization dawned. “That wasn’t what you think …”

  “Wasn’t it?” a young woman asked. “And you, the pastor’s wife – someone needs to tell him! How shameful! And we trusted you …”

  Leora shook her head to clear it. What had just happened?! She’d never seen the man before! “Who was that?” she asked the growing crowd.

  “Why don’t you tell us?” the young woman asked. “From the sound of it, you’ve been seeing him for some time now!”

  “What?! I’ve never seen that man before in my life!”

  “You could’ve fooled us,” the woman said as she spun on her heel and stomped off. Several others shook their heads and did the same.

  Leora stood in utter shock. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the man’s actions. “Does anyone know who that man was?”

  “Don’t know,” an old man said. “But he obviously knows you!”

  Leora stared horrified at the few remaining townsfolk glaring at her from the street. “I swear, I don’t know who that man was – and I really don’t want to!” Her hand to her chest, she hurried down the porch steps, shoved her way through the remaining gawkers and ran all the way home. She had to talk to Theron – before someone else did!

  Stumbling into the house, she closed the door and locked it, her heart in her throat. What was she going to do? Why did that man kiss her and say those things? What would people think?

  More importantly, what would Theron think? “I have to find him.” Good grief, she could just imagine what one of the townsfolk might tell him! She hurried out the back door, across the yard and straight to Theron’s office – but the door was locked! “He must be out making calls,” she muttered. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t run into any of the spectators that would be all too happy to inform him of what they’d witnessed.

  “I have to calm down. I can handle this.” She went back to the house, hoping a cup of tea would calm her nerves. The incident had happened so fast, she’d had no chance to stop the man from his forward behavior. But why would he even do such a thing? All she knew was that the townsfolk who witnessed the display probably thought she was having some sort of affair …

  “Wait a minute …”

  It hit her like a revelation: maybe that’s exactly what they were supposed to think! Maybe someone was trying to make her look bad, ruin her reputation. But if that were the case, who was behind it?

  Leora went into the house and straight to the stove. She picked up the kettle, filled it with water and set it back on the stovetop harder than normal. “Come on, Leora, get a hold of yourself!” If she didn’t, she’d be a wreck by the time play rehearsal rolled around that afternoon.

  If only she knew where Theron had gone. He was visiting the sick today, but she didn’t know who they were. She’d been so busy she wasn’t even sure if he’d told her. What if someone told Theron before she had a chance to explain and he assumed the worst? They’d been eating supper later than usual because she’d been getting home late. “Oh no …”

  But Theron knew her better than that, didn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t automatically believe what the townspeople told him? Wouldn’t her word outweigh theirs? She’d never seen the man that kissed her before in her life! Of course, from the sounds of it, neither had anyone else who witnessed it. “Oh dear,” she gasped as she sat in the nearest chair. “Dear Lord, what am I going to do?”

  * * *

  As it turned out, Theron didn’t return to the church before play rehearsal. Leora had been so upset earlier that she’d wept between sips of tea. She thought about trying to find him, but didn’t want to appear desperate. People might think she really was guilty of something! But then, wouldn’t people expect her to want to find her husband after such an ordeal?

  She was still getting over the shock of it, and was finally able to think a little more clearly – clear enough to realize that only half the cast had shown up for practice. “Oh no,” she muttered, closing her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s already been spread around town …”

  Mrs. Pleet entered the church and made a beeline for her. “Good heavens, dear, I just heard what happened!”

  “You and half the cast – that would explain why they haven’t shown up yet. Oh, Mrs. Pleet, what am I going to do?”

  “My question is, what have you done?”

  “I haven’t done anything!” Leora said, angrily but keeping her voice low. “A man ran up to me and … assaulted me in public! Then he blathered something about meeting him later … and I’d never seen him in my life!”

  Mrs. Pleet pulled her further away from the cast members. “The word around town is that you’re having a wild affair and you plan to leave Pastor Drake.”

  “Good Lord, no!” Leora whispered in panic. “How could this be happening?”

  “Clearly someone’s trying to ruin you. I know you wouldn’t do such a thing and I’m sure your husband knows it too. Where is he, anyway?”

  “I’m not sure – he’s visiting the sick today, but I don’t know where.”

  Mrs. Pleet frowned. “He must’ve ridden to some of the outlying areas. I saw him pass by this morning on his way out of town.”

  “That means he’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

  “Then you’ve got an hour to explain things to the folks here before they hear it from someone else.”

  Leora’s eyes darted over the people gathered to rehearse. “But … would they believe me?”

  “Of course they will, dear – you’re their pastor’s wife. They’re much more understanding than you give them credit for. Go ahead, ask for their help.”

  “Their help?” she studied the group mingling amongst the pews. “But none of these people saw what happened.”

  “All the more reason to explain it to them,” Mrs. Pleet said.

  Leora’s shoulders slumped. The woman was right; she had to clear her name and fast, before the lies spread further. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and prepared to address those around her.

  * * *

  Theron rode home at a slow trot. He was in no hurry, as he knew Leora had play rehearsal that night and his six o'clock supper wouldn’t be on the table until seven. “I’ll be glad when this is over,” he muttered to himself. His horse bent an ear in his direction. “I suppose you will be too, huh boy? You’re not getting your supper any earlier either …

  The horse’s ears pricked forward
again and he slowed the animal to a walk. It was growing dark, but not so dark that he’d be riding into town half-blind. Besides, he enjoyed the ride home after visiting the small ranches and farms that dotted the hill country around Nevada City. He planned to go to Grass Valley tomorrow and visit Brother Yardley, the pastor of the Methodist church there. He’d been wanting to do it for a couple of weeks now, but Leora had been so busy …

  “Leora,” he whispered. His chest tightened at the sound of her name. He missed his wife. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really had time to get to know her yet. She was never around long enough for him to have a decent conversation with her. And here he thought he was busy. At least he knew the townspeople loved her.

  But then, who wouldn’t? She was kind, pretty, willing to learn, willing to overcome her fears rather than succumb to them. Dealing with Mrs. Rutherford was a prime example – she’d turned on the kindness and slain that dragon – so thoroughly that he’d barely seen her lately. Hmmm … maybe he ought to pay the Rutherfords a visit and make sure the woman wasn’t ill. Though if she was, wouldn’t Leora have mentioned it?”

  “Pastor Drake?”

  “Whoa,” Theron said and brought his horse to a stop. He glanced around. “Who’s there?”

  Mr. Oliver stepped out of the growing shadows. “Pastor Drake, I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

  “Peter, what are you doing out here? Is something wrong?” Theron asked.

  Peter Oliver nodded, took off his hat and began to twist it in his hands. “I’m afraid so, Pastor.”

  Theron dismounted and went to stand before him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Pastor Drake, but it’s about your wife.”

  “Leora? Good heavens, man, what is it?”

  “You aren’t gonna like this, Pastor Drake. But me and the wife think that Mrs. Drake …” he swallowed hard. “… has a fella on the side.”