“She was supposed to be here by noon, although the wedding won’t be until one,” Sam said as he wrung his hands.
Sadie crossed the few steps over to Sam and patted him on the shoulder. She waved her hand around the room, looking at the Archer family, Suzanne, James and their twins, Lucy and Lily, and said, “Don’t worry. We’re all here and ready whenever she gets here.”
“How do you know she’s not here already,” the pastor said as he glanced around the room and then out into the main dining area of the restaurant.
Sam stood in the door of the private area, looking around at the patrons of the restaurant. After he’d scanned the room, he turned back toward the guests in the smaller room. “I would know if she was here. She said she’d be wearing a purple—”
He stopped short as his eyes fell on Meg. His eyes grew wide and questioning as he scanned her up and down, and he whispered under his breath, “dress.”
Meg’s stomach flipped as her eyes met Sam’s, hoping for some flicker of happiness at the awareness that she would be his bride, but all she saw was pure, unadulterated shock.
Meg’s father, who was standing next to the pastor, waved his hand in the air dismissively and turned away. “That’s impossible. Preposterous. Tell him, Meg.”
Meg turned, glancing around the room. Her stomach knotted as she noted each pair of eyes as big as saucers, from her brother Hank’s to Sadie’s and Suzanne’s.
She crossed the room and took her father’s hand. “Papa, I know this may come as a bit of a surprise, but it is true. I answered Sam’s ad and I intend to be his bride.”
All the blood drained out of Beau Archer’s face as he pulled his hand away from his daughter. “A surprise? A surprise? This is a ridiculous farce. A mistake is what it’s called.”
Sam came and stood beside her, his concern plain in his eyes. “Mr. Archer, I assure you—”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, young man, but this marriage will not take place. I forbid it.”
Meg had expected her father to be surprised, maybe even a little angry, but she hadn’t anticipated this. She looked up at Sam and placed her arm through his.
“Papa, you can’t forbid it. I am of age. It is my decision, and I want to do this. For Sam and for me.”
She could feel her five sisters—and even Clara—holding their breath, and heard loud, long sighs from around the room.
Clara stepped forward, looking deep into Meg’s eyes before she grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly out of the room. She spun around and asked, “Is this truly what you want, Meg?”
Meg reached out and took Clara’s hands in hers. “Yes, Clara, it is. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”
Clara looked confused, at first, and then smiled. “Yes, I think somewhere deep down I knew that. I did know you were pining for someone, but wouldn’t have guessed it was Sam. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Sam didn’t even know I existed. I never knew how to get his attention, and then he needed a bride and I knew it was my only chance. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case they’d try to stop me. Which is exactly what’s happening now.”
“You can’t blame your father for being stunned. Not long ago he didn’t want you to even have suitors, let alone be married. This might take a bit of time for him to get used to. Why not wait a while and we can sort it all out?” Clara glanced back into the room, where everyone seemed to be looking at their shoes in silence.
Meg glanced back into the room at Sam, who’d sat down at one of the tables and had his head in his hands. Even in his surprised state, she thought he was the kindest, most handsome man she’d ever met. She wanted to help him with his predicament, but she also knew it was the best chance for her to be with the man that she now believed that she loved.
She squared her shoulders and smoothed down her purple dress—which would be her wedding dress.
“I’ve thought this through, Clara. This is what I want and I’m going to go through with it. If Sam hasn’t changed his mind, that is.”
Clara turned to walk back into the room, pulling Meg along with her. As she reached Sam, she cleared her throat and looked at Hank, who stood against the wall as he watched the scene unfold, his arms crossed over his chest. Meg couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, but she hoped he’d be supportive. After all, he’d had a mail order bride himself.
“Sam, Meg is certain that she wants to go through with this. Do you want to continue with the ceremony?”
Sam stood and his eyes searched Meg’s. As she looked into his deep blue eyes, Meg thought she saw a spark, just for a second, or a flash of some feeling on Sam’s part, and her heart sped up as she waited for his response.
Sam smiled at Meg and squeezed her hand before turning and walking over to her father. “Mr. Archer, I realize that this is an unusual circumstance, but I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Beau’s face turned red as he sputtered, “Certainly not. You do not have my permission to do this and you never will.”
Sam hung his head for a moment as he pulled back his outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Archer. But Meg’s right, it’s her decision.”
Meg watched all of this unfold around her, frozen to the spot. She let out a big sigh and walked over to her soon-to-be husband and again wound her arm through his. “It would mean a lot to me, Papa, to have your blessing.”
“Not in a million years. If you want to ruin your life, you’re going to have to do it without me. Come on, girls, we’re leaving.” He strode toward the door, motioning for his family to follow. When he reached the door, he turned, his brows furrowing as he saw his daughters standing firmly in place, their eyes cast either downward or at Meg.
Not one of them had moved an inch, and Meg’s heart sang as she glanced down the row of her sisters and nodded, thanking them for their support.
“Hank? Clara? Let’s go,” Beau said as he motioned toward the door.
Hank cleared his throat, grasped Clara’s hand and moved over to stand by Meg and Sam.
“I believe we’re staying, Pa. All of us.”
Again, Mr. Archer paled, his mouth opening as if he were going to speak. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, spun on his heel and left the room, and the Occidental entirely.
As he closed the door behind him, the air in the room seemed to return and everyone who had been watching breathed deeply. Sadie rushed to Meg and said, “Meg, I don’t quite know what to say. You certainly are a determined young lady.”
Meg felt her face flush. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry for my father’s…well, for his actions.” She turned to Sam and looked up into his eyes. “And thank you, Sam, for wanting to move forward with this.”
“Meg, I don’t know how to say this, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, but I have to. My mother will be here in a few days and I need a wife.”
Meg’s heart sank at his words, although she knew they were true. She also knew that she loved him, and that he would come to understand how perfect they were for each other. She’d seen the spark. She knew he would.
“Well, then, Mr. Allen, we may as well not waste any more time. Let’s get married, shall we?”
Chapter 11
The wedding itself had been short and sweet, and Meg could hardly believe how fast she’d become a married woman. Her sisters had all cried, nonetheless. Even Hank had sniffled once or twice, and now that it was all over, Meg was happy that they’d all been there. Even with her father’s fit of anger, it had turned out to be a happy day after all.
After everyone had eaten and wished them well in their new marriage, Sam and Meg had left for his house, Hank having agreed to bring her bags after she’d told him where she’d hidden them.
Hank had shaken his head slowly before he gave her a big hug. “I should have been listening better, Meg. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.”
“Oh, Hank, please don’t feel that way,” she’d
told him. “It all worked out, see? Papa will come around, and everyone will be happy. I promise.”
Now, as they pulled up in front of Sam’s white house in town, Meg saw it with new eyes and was once again positive that she would be happy. And as Sam tied the buggy to the post and stepped around to help her down, she vowed to do anything and everything in her power to make him happy, too.
Sam had been very quiet at the reception and hadn’t said more than two words on the ride from the Occidental to his house. She felt horrible about her father’s outburst, so she thought it best to just let things be and was quiet herself.
As Sam opened the door and extended his arm into the house for her to precede him, she decided it was time that they begin getting to know each other better. She hoped that he’d recovered a bit from the surprise and would be able to see that this had been the best thing for everyone.
Sam helped her with her coat and hung it on a pretty oak rack just to the side of the front door. He removed his hat and coat and hung them beside hers.
“I…I suppose I should give you a tour of the house,” he said slowly as he glanced around the parlor.
Meg sighed and took his hand, pulling him into the kitchen. “Let me make us some tea, first, and we can talk,” she said and began to open cupboards and scout out some tea.
He walked to a shelf at the far end of the kitchen and reached up for a lovely ceramic container, painted with white flowers on a blue background.
Meg felt suddenly uncomfortable, wishing he would say something, not exactly sure what she could do. “That’s a lovely container,” she said, and chastised herself silently for not thinking of something more clever.
Sam looked at the container as if he’d never seen it before and then looked back at her. “It was my grandmother’s. I guess it is pretty.”
He put the lid back on the jar and placed it on the shelf. Meg set the teakettle she’d filled on the stove as Sam stoked the fire.
Sam pulled out a chair for Meg at the kitchen table, and scooted her in as she sat. He paced for a moment as he fiddled with the teapot.
Meg sat quietly, her hands in her lap, watching him. She wished it could be like before, when Sam would visit Hank at the ranch and they’d all sit around drinking lemonade, laughing and talking. That’s what she’d loved most about Sam, then—he was always on the brink of laughing. Now, she wondered where that Sam had gone.
Finally, she could stand the silence no longer and said, “Sam, I know this has been a pretty big surprise, but I really did do this because I wanted to, and I’m hoping that we do a good job of it and that your mother is happy for her stay.” What she didn’t say was that she hoped by the time her new mother-in-law returned to New York, Sam would have realized how perfect they were for each other.
He sighed as he poured the boiling water into the teapot and sat down opposite her at the table, his thumbs resting in his suspenders. He held Meg’s eyes until she could look no longer, and she lowered her head as she twisted the hem of her jacket.
“I appreciate that, Meg, I really do. I feel pretty stupid that I’ve even gotten myself in this fix, and couldn’t think of any other way to get out of it.” He stood and brought mugs, sugar and cream to the table. He wrapped a dishtowel around the handle of the teapot and set it on the table as well.
“Let me pour, please,” Meg said as she took hold of the dishtowel and poured them two full mugs of tea. “Cream and sugar?” she asked, picking up the sugar spoon.
“No, none for me, thank you. I prefer it with nothing. Coffee, too.”
She poured a dash of cream in her mug and two teaspoons of sugar before she stirred her tea. “So, when is she coming, and what do we need to do? I actually think it’s quite a sweet and kind thing you’re doing, and I am happy to help in any way I can.”
Sam picked up his cup of tea and blew on it for a moment. “She’s arriving on Sunday.”
Meg gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “So soon? Oh, goodness. There’s so much to do before then.”
“To do?” Sam said. “Well, I suppose I do need to find a business of some kind. This is getting pretty complicated.”
“I’ve actually given it some thought. I wondered if maybe James and Suzanne might like to take some time off before the girls get much older. I have experience buying and selling, and for a few days, we could go to work at the mercantile. Even if they don’t want to leave town, your mother would likely believe that you own it.”
She set her mug of tea down with a satisfied grin, pleased with her plan and the smile on his face.
“That just could work, Meg,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I think James and Suzanne trust us both enough to let us in the shop, and that would be a wonderful business as far as my mother was concerned.”
“Splendid! Now there are some other things we need to think about.”
Sam tilted his head to one side, and she sensed his confusion. “Think about this, Sam. If your mother believes we’ve been married for—how long did you say she thinks it’s been?”
“Two years.” He groaned and let his head fall into his hands.
“Now, don’t despair. We just need to use this time wisely.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Sam said as he looked up.
“If your mother believes that we’ve been married for two years, we ought to know quite a bit more about each other than we do now.”
“I certainly don’t think she will quiz us, Meg,” he said, pouring himself another cup of tea.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Of course she won’t, but if you want this to be believable, it needs to appear that I’ve lived here longer than two days. I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen, for one thing. I wouldn’t have been able to even offer her a cup of tea, not knowing where things are kept.”
Sam looked around the kitchen, from the sink to the polished oak cabinets. “I suppose you’re right about that. It would be more believable.”
“And don’t you think that I would know about important things concerning my husband? Childhood injuries, maybe, or where you’ve lived? And I’m afraid you should learn the same things about me.”
“I did fall out of a tree when I was ten and broke my arm. I suppose you would know something like that and wouldn’t be surprised if it came up. It still bothers me sometimes.”
Meg laughed and stirred her second cup of tea. “Exactly what I mean. And I got my finger stuck in a stable door when I was a girl and it’s a bit crooked.” She held up her finger and smiled as Sam looked intently at her, searching for signs of her injury.
“I don’t see anything. I should go get my glasses.”
Meg clapped her palms on the table. “See, that’s another thing. I had no idea you wear glasses. I’ve never seen you with any on.”
Sam smiled as he stood and reached for a set of spectacles on the counter. He put them on, wrapping the wire around his ears, and Meg noticed the color creep into his cheeks.
“I try not to wear them very much. I had to get them as a boy to read small print. Music, mostly.”
Sam chuckled as Meg clasped her hands together over her chest. “You read music?”
He frowned and pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning against. “Maybe we don’t need to know everything about each other,” he said as he picked up the empty mugs and placed them in the sink.
Meg wondered why reading music would be a delicate topic, but it clearly was. She made a mental note to find out more about it somehow, even if not from him.
“Well, we’re off to a good start,” she said as she wrapped a dishtowel around her waist and tucked it into her skirt in preparation for cleaning the dishes. “At least now I know you like your tea black.”
He smiled and nodded. “And I know you take cream and two sugars.”
She turned around, laughing, happy that he had noticed what she liked in her tea. Another spark of encouragement. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. “
<
br /> “I suppose I feel bad about your father. To be honest, I’m actually honored that you would consider this, helping me out. My mother means the world to me, and she would be heartbroken if she found out I was a bartender—and unmarried, at that.”
Meg circled around the table and sat back down across from Sam. “I believe she will be fine, Sam. Please, trust me.”
His look of uncertainty could be expected, she knew. Although Sam had been a friend of her brother’s for a while and had spent a fair amount of time at the ranch, he would really have no way of knowing how recently the grief surrounding the loss of Katie Archer, Meg’s mother, had lifted. It was yet another blow for her father, she knew, but she still had faith that she’d done the right thing.
His eyes met hers, and she smiled the most reassuring smile she could muster. This was going to work out, and she wouldn’t allow her father to put a wedge in her new marriage.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, nodded his head and said, “All right, Meg. If you say so. I’ll trust you on this one.”
She clapped and walked back over to the sink. “Good. I know I’m right. Let me get the dishes cleaned up and then maybe take a look at the house? Hank should be here soon with my things, and I’d like to be able to tell him where to take them.”
“Oh, right. I’ll just go make some final preparations while you do that.”
As Sam left the kitchen, Meg turned back to the sink, going over the day in her mind. It had resulted in the marriage she had wanted, but hadn’t turned out at all how she’d daydreamed it would. She thought of her father as she gazed out the window of her new home and watched the birds play in the birdbath Sam had in his small garden. She wondered what he was doing, and how supper would be tonight at the ranch with all of them around the table, her chair empty, and a hint of sorrow tugged at her heart.
She set the last dish on the counter to dry and shook the thought out of her head. She wiped her hands on her makeshift apron, anticipating the arrival of her own when Hank turned up. No, this was her home now. Best get used to it as fast as she could.
The Bartender's Mail Order Bride Page 5
