by Caroline Lee
Copyright © 2016, Caroline Lee
[email protected]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
First edition: 2016
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Cover: EDHGraphics
Table of Contents
The Godmothers Meddle
Chapter One
Chapter Two
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Author’s Note
Other works by Caroline Lee
The Sweet Cheyenne Quartet
A Cheyenne Christmas
A Cheyenne Celebration
A Cheyenne Thanksgiving
A Cheyenne Christmas Homecoming
Where They Belong: A Sweet Cheyenne Christmas Novella
The Mothers of Sweet Cheyenne: A short story collection
Everland Ever After
Little Red (Rojita + Hank)
Ella (Ella + Ian)
Beauty (Arabella + Vincenzo)
The Stepmother (Meri & Jack)
Rapunzelle (Zelle & Dmitri
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The Stepmother
An Everland Ever After Tale
Dedication:
For my friend Merry
The Godmothers Meddle
“What’s next on the agenda?”
“Muffins!”
“We’ve had tea already, Mildred. I meant the guild agenda.”
“It’s never the wrong time for muffins.” The first voice sulked.
A pause. “Yes, fine then. Pass the muffins around again.” An exasperated sigh. “Now can we get on with business?”
“I want to talk about that fine young doctor in town.” This was a third, reedy voice.
Chuckles filled the room. “I wouldn’t mind talking about him either, dearie. Wouldn’t mind talking with him, too. ‘Course, we might not do much talking.” The fourth voice was jolly, and belonged to a godmother who had clearly seen a thing or two during her long tenure in the guild.
“Which doctor is this?”
“The one who just got to Everland, luv. With his little daughter?”
“Ooooh, yes, the tea leaves mentioned him. Poor man doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing, making a home for that sweetie out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Everland’s booming, Mildred!” That fourth voice sounded like perpetual laughter. “Soon we’ll have a hotel and a milliner’s shop and what do the leaves say about the railroad? Is it coming this way any time soon?”
A frantic fumble for the packet of tea. “I don’t know, but if the water’s still on, I can let you know in a jiffy.”
“Ladies!” The first voice was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. The others quieted. “Godmothers,” she continued more politely. “Let’s hear from Gertie.” A pause, and then tried again, louder. “Gertie? What do you want to say about the doctor? Oh, for Heaven’s sakes, Peggy, wake up Gertie.”
“Hmmm?” The reedy voice gave a snort. “I’m awake, don’t you worry. I think that the young doctor needs a wife, that’s what I think. He’s helpless, I’ve been watching. Cuts the baby’s hair because he doesn’t know how to braid. Hires out his laundry. Uses a book to boil beans!”
“Well, that won’t work, you need a fire, and a pot, and maybe some salt—”
“She means he’s boiling beans from a recipe, Mildred.”
“Oh. Oh! That’s terrible! He needs a wife.”
Another exasperated sigh. “Well, there’s no one here in Everland for him, or anyplace nearby.” There was a rustling of multiple pages as they all checked their lists. “Does anyone know of any available ladies in the territory?”
“Nope!” The fourth voice—Peggy—managed to sound cheerful even while disappointed.
“Then we’ll look farther afield. Does anyone have a young eligible lady on their lists? If not, we could contact the other sectors…”
The godmothers subsided into silence as they all leafed through their books and charts. Occasionally one would “hmmmmmm”, but then click her tongue disappointedly when that particular candidate didn’t meet specifications.
Finally, Mildred spoke up. “I think… I think I’ve got one.” The others turned to her hopefully. “Meredith Almassy, twenty-three years old, known as ‘Meri’.” She was reading from her list. “She’s in Philadelphia right now, but originally from Ohio.”
“Does she want to marry?”
“According to my notes…” Mildred peered closer at her scratchy handwriting. “She’s rather desperate. Wants to marry a doctor, in fact, and start a new life out west.”
“Perfect! We just have to get her out here. Perhaps the mail-order bride trick would work again, like it did down in Texas. We’ll just put together an advertisement tailored to her, and plop them together. Oooh, perhaps a snowstorm? That’ll keep ‘em crammed together. They’re bound to fall in love that way!”
“Why is she so desperate? And don’t you think that him having a daughter will muck things up a bit?” Peggy was the only one to wonder about the girl’s requirements.
The first voice waved away her objections. “Don’t be silly. They’ll be perfect for one another. He’s a doctor, she wants to marry a doctor, bam, we’re done. Godmothering’s a piece of cake.”
“Or muffins!”
“Yes, dear, or muffins. Now, someone wake up Gertie again, so we can write this letter and set the spell, and then go have some supper.”
“With muffins!”
CHAPTER ONE
1860
The soon-to-be Wyoming Territory
Everland. It had sounded so…so idyllic in Doctor Carpenter’s advertisement, and the name leant an air of fairy-tale magic to the place. But finally standing here in the quickening February dusk, Meri wasn’t as enthralled as she’d imagined she’d be. Her practical eye picked out the lack of sidewalks, and the empty lots on the main street. This town was still growing, and was probably seriously lacking in the comforts she’d cherished, the years she’d lived in Philadelphia.
But despite the town’s obvious youth, she felt a smile stretching her lips. Here was the opportunity she’d dreamed of. Here was a place where she could really help people; wouldn’t be told to hush up and move aside because she was a woman. Here was a place that needed doctors, and she’d have a husband to make her legitimate. She was finally on her way to making her dream come true.
If she’d had her way, she would’ve waited until tomorrow morning before turning up on Doctor Carpenter’s doorstep. The good Lord knew that it was bad manners arriving this late in the day, but there was no hotel in town, no place else for her to stay. No, Doctor Carpenter and his daughter were her only hope here in this odd little town in the middle of nowhere. Her only hope at all.
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and looked around once more. There
wasn’t a soul in sight, and it wasn’t that late in the evening. Perhaps there was someone at the livery—if there was a livery?—who might store her trunk for a day and point her towards Doctor Carpenter’s home. A little walk would do her good; she’d been sitting in that rocking stagecoach for days and days.
But just as she took her first step towards the stable, a wagon came around the corner at a lively trot, and Meredith wondered if she’d be able to prevail upon the driver. She was getting ready to hail the two ladies sitting on the bench when they drew to a stop beside her. One was old and gaunt, but she’d have to be, to ensure that her companion—who was almost as wide as the bench seat—had enough space.
“Hello, dear.”
“Just arrived on the stage, have you?”
They spoke without looking at each other, so intently were they peering at her. Meri felt her brows raise slightly; they weren’t at all who she was expecting in the middle of a lonely town like Everland.
So her reply might’ve been a bit hesitant. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh good.” She couldn’t tell which one had spoken, but they both climbed down out of the wagon at the same time, the larger one moving with surprising grace. Meri took a step back, to give them space, but they still moved close enough to her to be a bit uncomfortable. She backed up again, until her heel kicked her trunk, and then forced herself to meet their eyes.
They were each studying her like she was a particularly interesting specimen of butterfly, pinning her down with their stares and sweeping their gazes across her features. How could they make her feel so self-conscious without speaking a word? Meri smoothed the front of her travel-wrinkled gray dress, and wondered if she should curtsey.
After a long silent stare-off, she wondered if they expected her to say something. Just as she was clearing her throat to ask for directions to Doctor Carpenter’s house—anything to get out of this odd confrontation—the two of them straightened from their careful perusal and nodded approvingly at one another.
“Welcome to Everland, dear.” The rounder one—the top of her head barely reached Meri’s chin—smiled brightly.
“You can call us Gertie and Peggy.” The wizened-looking one gave no hint as to which one of them was which. “And we’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Are you here visiting, dear?” The short one didn’t look like the answer mattered. In fact, they both were looking at her like they knew exactly why she was there, and that was even more disconcerting than their previous silence.
Meri pressed her palm against the pocket of her simple skirt, comforted by the familiar crackle of Doctor Carpenter’s advertisements. She’d read them both, again and again, on the trip here, marveling at his quiet devotion to his profession and his daughter. From the moment she’d read that fateful line—”I’m searching for a partner, a help-mate”—she’d known that this was a man who would allow her to fulfill her dream. She’d be able to work as a real doctor, for the women of Everland, with her husband beside her. No one here would tell her that she was unqualified, or turn her away, with her handsome, talented, and devoted doctor husband by her side.
“No, I’m not here visiting.” She was here to stay.
“Here to stay, then, dear?”
Meri blinked, wondering if her thoughts had developed an echo. This was turning into the oddest welcome she could’ve imagined. A stark wind whipped through town, smelling of snow, and she pulled her coat tighter.
“Yes…ma’am. I’m here to meet…someone.”
“Hmmmmm,” they hmmmmm’d in unison, and Meri blinked. Before she could respond, though, they both continued. “A man?”
“Yes.” Meri swallowed. “I’m here to meet Dr. Jack Carpenter.” And marry him, but for some reason, she couldn’t say it aloud. Maybe it was because these oddly endearing ladies were likely to be her patients one day. Maybe it was just because she wanted to meet Doctor Carpenter before she announced her marriage to him. Maybe she was just exhausted from the journey and the weather.
She might not have said it, but the ladies smiled widely all the same, as if they’d heard her confession. They nodded and beamed and nudged one another with their elbows—although that meant that the older one had to bend almost double to reach—and Meri was just about dying to ask them what was going on. But before she could, they both swept around her and bent over her trunk. She hurried to help them, protesting that she could carry it—barely—but they each let out identical ladylike grunts and hoisted the thing up in the air. As she stood there, open-mouthed, they wrestled it onto the back of their wagon.
“Don’t just stand there, Miss Almassy!”
“Climb on in, dearie!”
The taller one lifted her skirts and scrambled onto the drivers’ bench while the other—her face wreathed in what seemed like a perpetual jolly smile—bounded over to take Meri’s elbow and lead her towards the wagon. In a bit of a daze, Meri lifted her carpetbag onto the bench and climbed up, settling between them. The two women kept up a constant chatter as they rode out of town, pointing out landmarks and imparting gossip, but Meri wasn’t listening.
She was on her way to meet Doctor Carpenter. The man who would become her husband. The man who wrote eloquently of duty and devotion and his daughter. The man who she could be happy with, safe with. A man nothing at all like Bernard.
It wasn’t until they crested the rise leading out of town that Meri thought to wonder how the women had known her name.
His princess’s gentle snoring had lulled Jack into a state of near-sleep. He wasn’t sure if she could even put herself to sleep anymore; most nights he just held her against his chest, marveling at this tiny little miracle of Creation, until she drifted off. It wasn’t because Zelle needed it. Nah, it was for him; he needed to feel her, to listen to her, to be reminded that he was alive and free, and so was she.
Tonight had been no different. After finishing yet another meal of rice and beans and salt pork, he’d given her a bath in the basin. It was just as well that he let her eat naked, because with his limited meal repertoire, she often ended the evening smeared in mushed beans, and with rice stuck in her ear.
It was the highlight of Jack’s day.
As usual, after her bath, he’d changed her into her nightdress and put her on his lap to read to her. Lately she’d gotten real interested in his books, but he still didn’t know if it was just the sound of his voice, or if she really cared about the story. And then, as usual, her eyes had gotten droopy, and she’d curled up against his chest, one thumb in her mouth and her feet tucked under his arm. When her breathing told him that she’d fallen asleep, he’d put the book down, and just hold her.
With his feet up on the crate, and his head wedged against the seat-back cushion just so, he could fall asleep like this. Had fallen asleep like this, pretty often since that day three months ago when he’d arrived in this two-bit town and moved into the empty house. Probably would’ve fallen asleep that way again tonight, except the knocking had startled him.
It took him a minute to figure out where the noise came from. He’d had plenty of visitors in the first month, sure, but he’d gotten rid of most of them with his poor manners. Besides, the sun had already set. As always, something out of the ordinary like this caused his heart to crawl up into his throat and his pulse to start pounding in his ears. Had Witcher found them, already? It’d only been a few months!
The knock came again, and Jack slowly sat up, making sure not to disturb Zelle. He slipped around the furniture towards the simple house’s front door. Still holding her pressed against his right shoulder, he lifted her so that she sat more comfortably, and grabbed the knife off of the table where he’d set it to dry after dinner. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
If Witcher had tracked them to Everland already, he wasn’t going to take Jack by surprise. He would do pretty much anything to keep his old boss from taking Zelle away, again. Swallowing, he admitted that he would even kill to keep his princess safe.
Cautiously, he cracked the door with the hand holding the knife, being careful to angle his body to protect Zelle, if necessary.
He probably shouldn’t have bothered. There was just enough light from the western sky to see who was standing on what would’ve been his doorstep if this God-forsaken place was civilized enough to have doorsteps: a woman. And not just any woman; a young one.
He’d been to the prayer meeting every Sunday for the last ten weeks—he believed strongly that Zelle needed to be raised with religion—and thought he’d met every single female Everland had to offer…all six of them. But this one hadn’t been there; hadn’t been around the town at all, as far as he’d seen. Because he’d sure as hell remember someone who looked as good as her.
She was a pale angel in the twilight, dark hair pulled back under some kinda bonnet, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made her somehow more approachable. Maybe he was getting fanciful, but she looked exactly like the kind of woman—good and pure and tight and clean—that he’d dreamed of during those long nights in his cell. The kind of woman that he wanted to raise Zelle to be. Noble. Kind. Pristine.
Jack blinked, wondering if there was something off about the beans. What the hell was she doing, standing at his door? The sight of a wagon with two figures in it, kicking up dust on the way back to town, or the trunk with carpetbag on top, didn’t help clear things up, either.
Well, blinking hadn’t made her disappear, so Jack figured he’d better find some manners, quick. He pulled the door open wider, keeping the knife behind it so he wouldn’t scare her. He shifted Zelle up higher, and stepped forward a bit to let the light from the lamp on the table spill out into the frigid night.
With a gasp, the woman took a step back, staring up at him like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe opening the door hadn’t been such a good idea. Was he all that ugly, really? From the way she was looking a bit sick, he thought that maybe he was.
