Victoria: Bride of Kansas (American Mail-Order Bride 34)

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Victoria: Bride of Kansas (American Mail-Order Bride 34) Page 7

by E. E. Burke


  David offered a favorite maxim. “Your better half?”

  The older man’s attention sharpened. “Better than what? She sure as hell didn’t have much to work with, but she took me on anyway. Amy gave me a heart. She gave me back my life. There’s no half to it. Without her, I wouldn’t be whole.” His lips twisted in wry smile. “That doesn’t mean it can’t get complicated from time to time.”

  The poignant tribute from a rough-around-the-edges wisecracker came as a surprise.

  “I never took you for a poet.”

  “Poet?” O’Connor chuckled. “I can’t rub two words together that rhyme.”

  “That may be, but if I’d come up with something as inspiring as that little speech, Victoria might not be on the fence.”

  “She’s having second thoughts?”

  “Second, third, maybe more…” David wandered over to the bookcase, not really looking for anything. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share, even with his mentor. “I haven’t handled things well. But in my defense, I didn’t even know there was a bride on the way until yesterday morning when she arrived.”

  “Boyo, that does sound complicated.” O’Connor settled his hip on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. “Think you better have a seat and let’s talk.”

  David trusted Mr. O’Connor, but he wasn’t comfortable going into the details of his personal life, or Victoria’s. “Can’t today. I have to get back to the store.”

  “Fair enough.” O’Connor came to his feet. He handed David the envelope with the rent money. “Here, take this, consider it a wedding gift, and I’ll throw in the first month’s rent on the adjoining building.”

  “That’s not necessary.” David didn’t want charity and tried to return the money.

  His landlord wouldn’t take it. “Be sure and tell me if there’s anything else you need.”

  The man’s generosity was too much, and yet he wouldn’t be refused. David returned the envelope to his pocket. “Thank you, sir. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

  “Don’t expect you to.” O’Connor picked up a framed photograph off the desk, a picture of his wife. As he gazed at it, his rugged face softened. “Over the years, people have done things for me that I couldn’t repay, not if I had all the money in the world. Consider it a gift…sort of like having the love of a good woman.”

  David nodded, not wanting to say that for him love hadn’t been a gift, but a curse. He sensed things could be different with Victoria, if she was willing to take him as he was and not as she expected him to be. That could only happen if he told her the truth.

  He stopped on his way to the door and retrieved his bowler. “You said things started off rocky with Mrs. O’Connor.”

  His mentor grinned. “Sure, if you call a canyon rocky.”

  “What kept you apart?”

  “Secrets.”

  Of all the coincidences… David threaded his fingers through his hair and secured his hat. Maybe it wasn’t coincidence he’d ended up here today. “That’s my problem, too. There’s something important I need to tell Victoria. I fear when she finds out, she’ll cry off.”

  O’Connor’s expression turned solemn. “Can you keep this secret for the rest of your life without it ruining your marriage?”

  That was worth considering. “Possibly, I don’t know.”

  His mentor set the framed photograph back on his desk. His walls were decorated with more pictures of his wife and children. Unusual, considering businessmen generally framed professional certificates or articles about their accomplishments. Looking around, it would seem O’Connor considered his greatest accomplishment his family. That was another reason David liked him so well.

  The family man folded his arms over his chest, a casual pose, but there was something in his face that hinted at strain. “When I met Amy, my life was one big lie. I knew if she discovered my secrets, she’d hate me. That was all there was to it. So I didn’t tell her. But lies have a way of catching up, no matter how fast we run. Amy did find me out, and I was right, she hated me. For lying, for what she thought I’d done, for letting her care about me without knowing who and what I really was. I reckoned she would hate me forever, and I deserved it. But she didn’t.”

  David turned back, riveted by the story. “Why not?”

  “She forgave me.”

  Forgiveness? There had to be more to it.

  “That sounds too simple.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing simple about it.” O’Connor strolled over and opened the door. “You let me know if you need any more advice. I’m not lacking in mistakes I could share.”

  David appreciated the man’s dry humor, and was grateful for his mentor’s willingness to reveal personal struggles. It took courage for a man to admit to being dishonorable and credit a woman for turning his life around. Before now, David had never misled a woman, much less lied. He’d done the right thing to the best of his ability. But when it came to love, being right hadn’t gotten him very far.

  He shook his mentor’s hand again. “Thank you. This isn’t the first time I’ve come to you for advice, and I daresay it won’t be the last. I’ll try not to make the same mistakes.”

  O’Connor’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Oh, you will. Just be sure you apologize properly.”

  * * *

  Victoria poked her head out from under the covers and blinked at the bright daylight. Maggie had left the room while it was still dark, which seemed like the middle of the night but was probably just an unholy hour of the morning.

  Brrrr. Either the building wasn’t equipped with gas furnaces, or the tightfisted shopkeeper chose not to light them. David didn’t turn up the lamps. He doled out wood like it was gold. He was as miserly with his resources as he was with his smiles. How surprising that he’d proposed without asking the price first.

  Shivering, Victoria dug through her suitcase and dressed quickly. She wouldn’t want him to think she was lazy, as well as loose. Being so bold as to kiss him might’ve given him reason to question her judgment, but she hadn’t imagined he would believe the worst about her.

  If she didn’t have his letters she might not believe he was the same person who’d asked for her hand. He couldn’t write such moving prose and not have a romantic soul. For some reason, he’d kept it hidden since she’d arrived. Or somewhere along the way he’d changed his mind about her.

  She lovingly tucked the packet of letters beneath the clothes in her suitcase. The man who’d written them existed, so that meant he must’ve had a change of heart. She had to find out why, and determine if she could fix whatever had gone wrong.

  After finishing a covered plate of food left in the kitchen, Victoria made her way downstairs. In the muted conversation drifting to the back of the building, she didn’t hear David’s voice, and when she entered the store, she didn’t see him, either. He had mentioned having errands this morning, but he hadn’t wakened her to say goodbye—another indication his ardor had cooled.

  Maggie stood behind the counter waiting on a customer who held a fretful infant. Fannie, who’d been sitting at a small table near the stove, scurried over to her aunt.

  Victoria’s spirits sank further. Even David’s daughter was not interested in greeting her. However, she could understand that reaction. She hadn’t wanted a stepmother either—and hers hadn’t offered gifts.

  The pot-bellied stove, at least, offered a warm welcome. She stood behind it and held her hands near the radiant heat. The checkerboard set up on an overturned barrel remained untouched. Could Fannie be coaxed into a game? It was hard to know what might please her when she wouldn’t speak.

  The bell jangled as the customer left.

  “Good morning, Victoria,” Maggie called out. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Human. Last evening, I’m sure I was a bear.”

  “Not a full grown bear. Maybe a snarly cub.” Maggie smiled and handed Victoria an apron. “Here, put this on. That’s a dressy outfit. You don’
t want to ruin it.”

  Victoria glanced down at her green wool jacket, plaid skirt and black button-up boots. Perhaps the silver clasp would qualify as dressy, but the rest of it? “This is one of my practical ensembles.”

  “Practical?” Maggie chortled. “This…” She gestured to a gray wool dress beneath the white apron. “…is what I call practical.”

  Victoria drew a similar apron over her head. “If you have one of those dresses available in the store, I’ll take it. I didn’t bring one along.” Truth be told, she didn’t have anything that drab in her entire wardrobe.

  Maggie’s smile turned wry as if she’d read Victoria’s mind. “I’m sure we can find you something suitable.”

  David’s sister could’ve made her feel foolish, but Maggie had been nothing but welcoming. That might be because she was eager to leave and therefore glad David had found someone who could take care of Fannie. Nevertheless, she deserved thanks.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done, sharing your room, cooking.” Victoria hugged her future sister-in-law. Maggie, at least, welcomed her affection. “The biscuits and ham were delicious. Thank you for leaving me a plate.”

  Maggie waved off her thanks. “It wasn’t much. I would’ve done more, but I woke up late. David had to go meet our landlord this morning, and then it started snowing early.”

  “It’s snowing?” Victoria eagerly crossed to the front window. Sure enough, a thin white layer covered the ground, and more delicate flakes drifted down. The snowfall didn’t stop the shoppers here any more than in New York. They juggled packages on the sidewalks, and piled bags and boxes in wagons lined up along the hitching rail across the street.

  “Sumner’s Five Cent Store looks to be very popular.”

  “Yes, it is…unfortunate for us.” Maggie picked up a cloth and began to wipe down the glass case. “He’s taking away our business. Most items in his store are advertised for five cents or less. David is sure he must be stealing to keep his prices so low.”

  Victoria made a mental note to visit Sumner’s store so she could investigate and possibly come up with helpful suggestions. She’d heard of similar institutions back east, which were reportedly growing fast. “What do you know of Mr. Sumner?”

  Maggie’s hesitation seemed out of character. David was the reflective one. Maggie said whatever was on her mind.

  “I’ve seen Mr. Sumner around, and met him once, but I don’t know much about him.” Maggie continued cleaning without looking up. “He just moved out here last year. Rumor has it he closed a similar store in Philadelphia. No one knows why. This one seems to be doing well, but maybe, like David said, he’s pricing things too low and he’ll soon be out of money.”

  Victoria rearranged a display of ribbons that had gotten lost behind a tilting water basin shaped like a tulip. She sorted through a box of tortoise shell hair combs and set the prettiest one on top. “You think David’s right?”

  A troubled expression gathered on Maggie’s brow. “I don’t wish Mr. Sumner ill. But for David’s sake, I hope he’s right.”

  Fannie tugged Maggie’s sleeve until she got her aunt’s attention.

  “Yes dear? What is it?”

  Her niece pointed at the display case.

  “Something in there?”

  Fannie nodded.

  Victoria observed the curious exchange. Perhaps Fannie’s silence wasn’t targeted at people she didn’t like. “Does she ever speak?”

  “Not a word in two years,” Maggie said solemnly.

  Two years? Victoria was shocked. In David’s letters, he’d indicated his daughter had become withdrawn since her mother left, but not speaking at all? That was a great deal more than withdrawn. “She spoke before?”

  “Perfectly. She started talking in full sentences when she was two. Didn’t you, sweetie?” Maggie put her hand on Fannie’s shoulder.

  Her niece tapped on the glass.

  Victoria walked over to examine the contents of the case: cheeses, meat pies, and a plate of pastries. “You could tell us what you want.”

  Without looking at Victoria, Fannie shook her head.

  “The doctors examined her. They say she’s fine, just stubborn. We’ve tried everything, even withholding food. She didn’t eat a bite for two days. David refuses to punish her. He can’t bear it. Neither can I.”

  So, Fannie wasn’t incapable of speaking, in fact she seemed very bright, but for some reason she had cloaked herself in silence. Whatever the problem, it wouldn’t be easily resolved. However, there was a way she could be helped, if she would cooperate.

  Victoria bent down. “There is a better way to communicate what you want.”

  Fannie regarded her warily.

  “I’m not offering you a snake.”

  The six-year-old scrunched her nose in disgust. The underlying meaning of the Biblical parable was lost on her.

  “What I’m saying is, I’m not going to give you something worthless or harmful. Let me show you how to tell us what you want.” Victoria curled her thumb and forefinger into the shape of a sideways C and then she brought her hand in front of her mouth and drew it downward, essentially an imitation of food moving into her stomach. “Hungry. That’s how you say it.”

  Maggie stopped cleaning. “What’s that you’re doing?”

  “People who can’t speak—unlike Fannie, most of them can’t hear either—use something they call sign language. It’s how they communicate.” Victoria repeated the gesture. “I’m hungry.”

  Fannie followed the motion with her eyes, and curiosity replaced wariness.

  Maggie drew closer. “That’s amazing, where did you learn it?”

  “A good friend of mine had a high fever and as a result, she lost her hearing. Her parents sent her to a school for the deaf in Connecticut where she could learn sign language. I wanted to be able to converse with her, so I learned as much as I could during the times I went to visit.”

  Fannie turned and banged on the glass case.

  “If you want a sweet, say Please.” Victoria demonstrated by placing her hand just above her left breast and making a circle. “Please. Then when your aunt opens the case, tell her Thank you.” Victoria held her fingers near her mouth and moved her hands outward and down.

  Maggie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “That’s wonderful!” She mimicked the motions. “Hungry… Please… Thank you….” The teacher had learned quickly enough. “Can you do that, Fannie?”

  “Tell us you’re hungry.” Victoria repeated the sign.

  With a frown, Fannie shook her head, stubborn, like her father.

  Perhaps there was another way.

  “What about your dolly? She might be hungry, too.” Victoria took the doll before the child realized what she was about.

  Fannie screwed up her face, priming the pump.

  “No, don’t cry. I’m not taking her away from you. I am only holding her so she can see you.” Victoria turned the doll around. “Show her, Fannie. Show her how to tell us she’s hungry.”

  A few tears escaped. When Victoria didn’t budge, Fannie dragged the back of her hand across her face. Her dark eyes begged.

  Smart girl. Knew all about how to use those big brown eyes to her advantage. No wonder her father had agreed to let her keep the kittens. Love and discipline were what she needed if she was going to learn how to get along on more than grunts and finger pointing.

  “Show the doll, Fannie. Then we’ll get you both something to eat.”

  Fannie curled her fingers and moved her hand up and down in front of her chest.

  “That’s very close. We’ll practice later and get it perfect. Now, let’s see what your doll has learned.” Victoria took the doll’s arm and made an effort to repeat the gesture, which wasn’t easy considering the bisque fingers didn’t bend and the stuffed arm was a bit stiff. “Hmm. She doesn’t do it as well as you. But we understand her, don’t we?”

  The tears vanished and Fannie’s lips inched into a shy smile. She curled her fingers and
made the sign for hungry without hesitation. She had a taken a big step and deserved a reward.

  Victoria returned the doll. “I believe Fannie and her friend would like a treat from the case.”

  “Right away.” With a wink, Maggie opened the display. The delicious aroma of baked goods wafted out. “What will you have, my ladies?”

  Fannie pointed to a gooey pastry.

  “That’s bound to be messy. Here, I’ll put it on a napkin…” Maggie handed her niece the pastry. “Now, you and your friend go sit at your table and eat.”

  After tucking her doll under her arm, Fannie carried the pastry to the child-sized table and chair set up in an area near the stove, close enough to be warm, but not so close she could reach the hot metal and get burned.

  David had thought carefully about where to place the table. He showed how much he loved and valued his daughter by how he cared for her safety and his sensitivity for her feelings.

  Victoria hadn’t felt loved since her mother died. Her father had made it clear from the start that she wasn’t valued. She’d thought her unhappy plight would change after receiving a heartwarming response from David O’Brien. But their first day together had been, for the most part, awful. Worse, she didn’t know why.

  Fannie propped the doll in the chair beside her and went to work on the pastry.

  “Brilliant, Victoria,” Maggie whispered. “Yesterday she giggled. Today she’s talking—”

  “One phrase…in sign language,” Victoria murmured under her breath.

  “That’s better than what she was doing before.”

  True. Victoria reveled in a rare sense of accomplishment. Not a huge victory, by any means, but enough to nudge Fannie in the right direction, and hopefully penetrate David’s defensive shell. Though, from the look of things, it would be easier to get Fannie to open her mouth than it would be to coax her father to open his heart.

  Maggie closed the door on the glass case. “We haven’t sent Fannie to school because David fears the teachers might punish her or the students will make fun of her. So I’ve been tutoring her. I think you should take over Fannie’s lessons, teach her sign language, along with everything else. I can answer any questions you might have.”

 

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