RNWMP_Bride for Peter

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Or I was avoiding coming into the bedroom,” she said honestly. “Peter, the fact that you thought of this . . . I’m more touched than I can say. Thank you.”

  “It’s what I truly believe—this isn’t just for you,” he replied. “I want our marriage to be strong, to be built on a solid foundation. We’ll know when the time is right.”

  She reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “Yes, we will. Thank you again.”

  Chapter Five

  Callie slept better that night than she had in days. Trains weren’t the best place to catch forty winks, that was for sure. She’d thought that it might be awkward, climbing into bed with Peter just across the room, but his rhythmic breathing comforted her and lulled her to sleep.

  When she woke up the next morning, she was a little disoriented. She looked around the room, not recognizing it in the daylight, as she’d only seen it by lantern light the night before. It wasn’t large, but the dresser seemed accommodating, and there were nails in the wall where she could hang her dresses. The night before, she’d draped her dress over the back of a chair, not caring about details. Today, she wanted to go through the whole house and organize it to her satisfaction, and that meant lots of details.

  She heard the front door open and close. She was startled until she leaned to the side and caught a glimpse of Peter carrying a bucket of water into the kitchen. She’d wanted to be up early to make him a nice breakfast, but she’d been so worn out after traveling, it was no wonder that she had slept so long.

  “Peter?” she called out. “When do you leave for work?”

  “I need to be there in about ten minutes.”

  “What?” She leaped out of bed, grabbing her robe and throwing it around her shoulders. “I was going to make you breakfast.”

  “You did. I ate last night’s leftovers from the icebox.” He gave her a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me tomorrow.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  He paused and put a hand on her shoulder. “And if you don’t, I’ll just raid the icebox again. Have a good day.”

  He put on his hat and left, pulling the door closed snugly behind him. The small cabin wasn’t just emptier by one body—it felt emptier of someone’s calming influence, too. She knew she’d miss him, which surprised her after knowing him for less than a day. It seemed so much longer than that, though. A great deal had happened, more than usually happens in the space of several hours.

  She washed up and got dressed, putting on a simple shirtwaist and skirt that would do very well for the chores she had in mind. Then she hung up her green dress and unpacked her other things. The two top dresser drawers were empty, and she assumed they’d been cleared out for her. She placed her things inside, embarrassed that some of her underthings were a little shabby, but she could see about getting some fabric to replace those as well. Now that she wasn’t working for someone else, she could determine how to spend her time.

  She paused at that thought and pulled in a deep breath as goose bumps raced down her arms. She wasn’t working for someone else. She was working in her own home, for her own husband, and she could decide what tasks to do from day to day. The thought thrilled her. She’d never had that kind of freedom before.

  After she unpacked, she slid her bag under her bed, made her bed, and then turned to make Peter’s to see that he’d already done it. This was almost getting ridiculous—didn’t the man have any faults? She’d been irritated with him the night before for the way he kept bringing up the bedroom, but then she’d realized that he’d just wanted to show her that he’d provided her with her own bed, a special surprise created because of his respect for her. She couldn’t be irritated with him after that. It seemed that he was as perfect as a human being could possibly be, and that raised some alarms in her head—no one was that perfect. He was going to snap at some point—he’d have to. It wasn’t sustainable.

  First things first. She looked in the icebox and found that he’d left her two biscuits and some bacon. She broke the biscuits in half, put the bacon in the middle, and ate while she looked at the food available, deciding what she needed. She found some paper and a pencil and took inventory of the things in the cellar, then sat at the kitchen table and drew up a menu using things that were already on hand. She actually had quite a lot to work with, once it was sketched out.

  She drew up another list of things she’d look for at the store, then grabbed her heavy shawl and headed outside. She would have liked to start some bread before leaving, but yeast was one thing in short supply.

  The fabric selection at the mercantile wasn’t extensive, but she found everything she wanted—something nice and dark for the windows, and a very nice white for her new underthings. Her cheeks felt hot as the clerk cut the yardage she needed, but she realized, everyone had to make new underthings from time to time, and it’s not like she was putting her purchase on display. She found the yeast without difficulty and put a few other things in her basket as well, including some fresh meat.

  As she rounded the corner, she overheard two men talking. They were leaning up against the counter and didn’t seem too concerned about keeping their voices down, so she didn’t feel guilty as she listened.

  “Yep, they’re ruthless, all right,” one of the men said. “I don’t think there’s one lick of the fear of God in ’em.”

  “That’s what happens when your belly gets full of greed. You don’t care who you hurt no more.”

  “You figgur’n they’ll head this way?”

  “Don’t see why not. Rumor has it, they’re hittin’ every train they can find to hit. Why should we be any different?”

  Callie pulled in a breath. This sounded bad—so very bad.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “Yes, please. I need to put these things on Peter Murray’s account.” She set her basket on the counter as the two men stepped to the side.

  “So you’re the new Mrs. Commander,” one of them said. “It’s a pleasure to know you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, unsure how to take his greeting. He seemed friendly enough, but definitely a little rough around the edges. Things like that had never bothered her before, though, so she didn’t know why it should matter now.

  Her bill was tallied and added to the ledger, and she smiled and nodded as she gathered up her basket again. Then she crossed the muddy ground quickly, needing to see Peter.

  She wiped her feet on the mat outside before opening the door to the Mountie office. When she entered, the two men inside rose.

  “Is everything all right, Callie?” Peter asked. Andrew nodded in greeting.

  “I don’t know,” she said. She set her basket down in the corner and approached the desk where her husband was working. “I was just at the store, as you can see because my basket is full, and I overheard two men talking about ruthless, godless men who might be coming this way. What’s going on?”

  Peter and Andrew exchanged looks. “I’d rather you didn’t know about this quite yet, but I suppose we can’t keep it a secret forever,” Peter replied. He motioned for Callie to take a seat, and she did, feeling apprehensive about what she might hear. “Several train robberies have taken place in the area, and we received word that one Mountie in another post was shot and killed.”

  Callie didn’t say anything, but she pressed her hand to her heart.

  “We’ve been studying the pattern of the robberies, and it’s not unlikely that they’ll attempt something here.”

  “I think we should set up a trap,” Andrew said. “Lure them here and then arrest them.”

  “But that idea carries dangers of its own,” Peter continued smoothly, his calm voice overriding Andrew’s impassioned speech. “We should be alert and mindful, not foolhardy.”

  “I don’t think it’s foolhardy to take matters into our own hands,” Andrew insisted, and Callie thought it sounded like a conversation they’d had many times before. No doubt they’d
been discussing it for hours at a time, deciding what course to take.

  “We’ve kept this quiet because we didn’t want you ladies to be brought into town right in the center of a crisis,” Peter went on. “I’ll ask you not to say anything just yet, Callie. I know that’s hard because these brides are your friends, but we need more information before we can say anything definitive.”

  “All right. I won’t say anything.” It would be hard, that was true, but she knew it would be easier for the other girls to accept the situation if there are concrete facts attached and not just a bunch of speculation. She could hold her tongue until things were more explained.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Peter didn’t say more, but Callie understood that it was time for her to go. No doubt he had many pressing things to do that didn’t include entertaining his wife.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said, standing. “I’m making beef stew for dinner.”

  “I can’t wait,” he replied, and she picked up her basket and left. Her heart still ached for the loved ones of the Mountie who had been killed. What would she or any of her friends do if something like that happened in White Fox?

  ***

  “I don’t know how much longer we can keep from discussing this with our wives,” Andrew said as Callie pulled the door shut behind her.

  “I think we can tell them fairly soon. We just want to stay calm about it. We’re officers of the law, and they married us knowing full well that we encounter danger on a regular basis. They need to get used to the notion.”

  “I’m sorry your wife had to find out about it at the general store,” Andrew said. “I’m sure that wasn’t the most pleasant way.”

  For a small moment, Peter wondered if Andrew was rebuking him for the delay in informing their wives, but then he realized that his friend was concerned about Callie’s welfare. Peter had been rebuking himself. “You get a bunch of men together and the talk’s likely to turn to unladylike topics,” he said. “We can’t keep it from them forever, but we can assure them that they’re safe. That’s about the extent of the promises we can make, though.”

  “True. Very true.” Andrew stood up and grabbed his hat. “Going on rounds. See you in a bit.”

  Peter nodded, then bent back to his paperwork. The never-ending pile. At least today, he had the prospects of a hot meal and a sweet wife to look forward to.

  Chapter Six

  The first thing Callie did when she got back to the cabin was to set the yeast in some warm water. While it worked, she put away her purchases, setting the fabric on her bed. She was eager to begin her sewing, but that would wait until she had some proper food in progress. Once the bread was mixed and set to rise, she turned her attention to chopping vegetables for stew, but was startled at a knock on her door.

  Miss Hazel stood outside, her eyes twinkling merrily. “And here you are!” she said. “I’m visiting all my new brides today, and it’s your turn.”

  “I’m sorry if you came by earlier and missed me,” Callie said, stepping aside to let the woman enter. “I went over to the general store for a few minutes.”

  “That’s quite all right. I’m really in no rush.” Miss Hazel looked around the room and nodded. “Much the same as the other cabins, but I imagine you’ll put your own touch on it soon enough.”

  “I certainly plan to. I got some new fabric for curtains.” Callie paused. “Miss Hazel, have you met Chip?”

  “The buffalo?” the older woman laughed uproariously. “Yes, I certainly have, and I’d love to know who came up with that brilliant name. I don’t think I could have done better myself, and I have a penchant for naming things.”

  “I don’t care for his name, but I really don’t care for the way he looks through windows. He scared me right out of my chair during dinner last night. I bought new fabric for curtains just now, and I’m getting them sewn up as quickly as I can.”

  “He’s definitely a nuisance, I’ll grant him that.” Miss Hazel took a seat by the fireplace. “I wonder if I could trouble you for some tea.”

  “Of course you could. Please excuse my manners—I should have offered you some as soon as you came in.” Callie busied herself with the kettle. “You say you’ve been out visiting?”

  “I have indeed. This is my reward for what I do—seeing happy couples preparing to spend their lives together. I also love it when they write to me a few months down the road and assure me that they’re still basking in wedded bliss. It’s so comforting to know that one is right so much of the time.”

  Callie smiled. Miss Hazel wasn’t trying to sound in the slightest bit conceited—she spoke very simply, as though it was all an accepted fact. She handed the woman a cup of tea and sat across from her.

  “Tell me what you think of Peter,” Miss Hazel said after she’d swallowed a few sips.

  “I think he’s wonderful. He’s kind, considerate, strong—he thinks of everything. Miss Hazel, he put two beds in the bedroom. Have you ever heard of anything more considerate?”

  Miss Hazel smiled. “He’s a good man, that Peter. You still seem a bit troubled, though. What’s the matter?”

  Callie let out an exasperated breath. “You’re going to think I’m ridiculous, but I’m starting to get annoyed by his perfection. He was up before me this morning and fetched fresh water without being asked, he ate leftovers for breakfast without a single complaint or even waking me, and right now, he’s down at the Mountie office looking incredibly handsome in his uniform and giving orders and being in charge, and that’s so attractive. Miss Hazel, he darns his own socks.”

  “No!” The woman looked suitably scandalized. “He doesn’t!”

  “Yes, he does, and he does it better than most women I’ve seen.” Callie sat back, feeling as though that explained everything that needed to be explained. “Where is the flaw in this man?”

  “He snores!” Miss Hazel said.

  “No, he breathes. And not loudly.”

  “Does he pick his teeth at the table?”

  “No.”

  “Does he come to the table in his undershirt?”

  “He put on a clean shirt and combed his hair.”

  Miss Hazel looked baffled. “You must have married an immortal being. That’s the only explanation I can think of.”

  “Exactly! And what am I to expect from this pillar of perfection? I certainly can’t keep up with him, and everyone will pity him. Poor Commander Murray—he’s such a wonderful man. How did he end up with such an unfortunate wife?”

  The two contemplated the issue for a long moment.

  “Perhaps if you looked,” Miss Hazel said. “Really looked. He must have flaws—he’s just hiding them well. He can’t keep it up forever, though. No one can keep a secret that long.”

  “You’re right. I’ll be on the alert.” Callie smiled at the older woman. “I’m very glad you found me on that train station platform, Miss Hazel. I’m not sure what life will bring me here in White Fox, but I know I would have been miserable with Victor if I’d gone with him. I’ve thought it over quite thoroughly, and I’ve realized just what a manipulator he was.”

  “Long train rides are excellent for thorough thinking,” Miss Hazel replied. “I’m just so grateful you were there for me to find. I want the Murrays to have the very best, and I believe Peter has found that in you. Don’t be disheartened, dear. You’ll find something wrong with him eventually, and then you’ll be able to fall head over heels in love with him and start having dozens of auburn-haired babies.”

  “Dozens?” Callie asked as her cheeks began to burn. She wasn’t ready to think about having babies, but she was even less ready to consider dozens of them.

  “You pick how many.” Miss Hazel stood up and put her cup on the table. “I need to be on my way. I’m glad to see you looking rested, my dear. You must have had pleasant dreams.”

  “I did, because my perfect husband let me sleep in.” Callie shook her head. “I’ll keep looking, Miss Hazel. I’ll find those flaws if it�
��s the last thing I do.”

  “And then you’ll write me and tell me all about it.” Miss Hazel gave her a hug. “Take care, my dear.”

  “You too, Miss Hazel. Have fun with your next set of brides.”

  “I always do.”

  After Miss Hazel left, the cabin certainly seemed a bit more dreary—she had a way of lighting things up wherever she went. Callie went back to chopping vegetables and getting the stewpot simmering. She’d been able to put the train robbers out of her mind during Miss Hazel’s visit, but now that she was on her own again and doing a task that didn’t require much thought, she found herself worried again.

  The other brides had known for a while that they were going to be married to law enforcement officers. They’d had time to prepare themselves for the idea. Callie, however, barely had time to consider anything at all before she said “I do,” and the ramifications of that decision were just now starting to make themselves known to her. She had married a man who could be shot and killed at any moment. She could become a widow even faster than she had become a wife.

  Thankfully, the town of White Fox didn’t seem particularly dangerous as a general rule, but train robbers could come from anywhere and show up anywhere, and if they could, what was to keep other criminals from doing the same?

  Callie gave a few extra frustrated thumps to her bread dough and put it into loaf pans. Peter had thought of everything—she’d found every pan and bowl and tool she’d needed as she worked. She was already outlining in her mind how she’d reorganize everything, but truth be told, she needed more distractions, and Colleen was the perfect person to call upon.

  Callie made sure that the fire in the stove wasn’t too high and then grabbed her shawl. Colleen and Marshall’s cabin was just a short distance away, and she should be able to pay a call and return before the stew was done.

  “I’m so glad you came by,” Colleen said when she opened her door. She grabbed Callie’s wrist and all but dragged her inside. “What do you think of our cabins? Yours looks like this one, doesn’t it? I think they’re all the same, at least in the basic design. Was yours clean? The first thing I did was sweep and dust. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it definitely wasn’t ready for me to start unpacking or even cooking. These poor men needed us more than they even realized.”