“Thank you,” she said, clutching her chest to steady herself. He didn’t move away or give her the space to walk towards the house. Instead, he stood in front of her, looking directly into her eyes.
“You’ve come all the way from New York?” he asked as she blushed and squirmed under his gaze. She couldn’t understand him; he was indecipherable.
“Yes, like I said in my letter,” she told him, growing nervous. He looked like this was not what he was expecting. Isabel was so afraid that he was disappointed in her.
“What made you decide to become a mail-order bride?” he asked, and she felt her nostrils flare. She wasn’t prepared to relay her whole life history to a stranger, let alone to a man who seemed so hostile towards her.
“Personal reasons,” she stated. She tried to raise her chin up and meet his eyes directly, but she was too shy to hold his gaze.
“You gave up your life and now you’re in Mitchell Town… for personal reasons?” he asked. She noticed how his eyebrows arched up sharply.
“Is that a problem for you?” she asked.
He suddenly bent down to pick up the bags. He only grunted in response. “Follow me.” He turned on his heels and started walking towards the house. The bags looked like simple empty sacks in his hands. They were not a problem for him to carry, and Isabel felt herself stir with a sudden desire for this strong rugged man even though he was proving to be more difficult than she had hoped he would be.
“Is there a problem, Liam?” she asked in lieu of following him and watched as he stopped in his tracks.
“What do you mean?” he asked and turned to look at her. That face again. Those piercing blue eyes, the tanned skin, those thin serious lips. Isabel felt nervous every time he looked at her.
“You don’t seem too pleased with my arrival. Have you changed your mind?” she asked him, and realized that her voice was quivering. She didn’t want him to change his mind. Where would she go? She didn’t want to go back to New York. Not after everything that had happened. This was the only way to get away. And the thought that he could ruin all of it by claiming that he had changed his mind filled her with dread again.
“Stop worrying, Isabel, and just follow me in. You need to get out of the sun before your skin starts sizzling like bacon,” he said, turning away from her again.
He didn’t sound encouraging or friendly… but at least he wasn’t turning her away. Isabel picked at the pleats of her thin cotton dress with her fingers and followed him towards the house. He was right, she needed to get out of the sun.
She climbed the stairs and Liam held the screen door open so that she could walk through. Their arms lightly grazed each other when she passed him and goosebumps bloomed on her flesh.
There was another surprise waiting for her indoors. The inside of the house looked nothing like the outside. The best word to describe it would be “cozy.” The house was small, indeed, but everything was clean and neatly in its place. There were lace curtains covering the windows. A flood of bright sunlight streamed into the cute living room and its adjoining kitchen. The furniture looked immaculate in beautifully polished wood. The wood floors were clean – no dusty footprints from outside to be found.
There was a small television facing two couches in the living room. There was even a bookshelf with a small collection, decorated with a few crystal figurines at its ends. The upholstery was all done in a pastel paisley design, and even though a bit old and faded, none of it looked ill-maintained. The ramshackle, dilapidated interior that Isabel had expected was nowhere to be found.
Sophie was at the kitchen counter, stirring a spoon in a jug full of what looked iced tea.
“Your home is lovely,” Isabel said, twirling around on the spot, noticing the stairs that led to a floor upstairs.
“Daddy and I take turns in keeping the house clean. Just the way mom left it,” Sophie said and placed the glass gently on a metal tray.
Behind her, Liam had dropped the bags on the floor by the door. The mention of the word “mom” had garnered a reaction from them both. Liam appeared to be inflamed upon hearing the word and it made Isabel nervous.
“Hand the glass to the lady and go to your room, Sophie,” Liam growled behind her. Isabel didn’t dare to turn around and look at him.
“She can stay here if she wants. We can get to know each other,” she said in a meek voice as Sophie handed the glass to Isabel.
“No, I think you both should get to know each other first,” Sophie said with a sly wink and a toothy grin. And then she was gone, bouncing up the stairs to her room and whistling a happy tune.
Chapter Four
So Isabel was alone with Liam again. Instead of feeling excited and giddy like the young blushing bride-to-be that she was, she felt uncomfortable and slightly scared in his presence.
Liam Mayer looked big and burly in his own house as he took off the hat he had been wearing and flung it onto the kitchen counter. He then walked over, poured himself a glass of iced tea, and walked back towards the couch. Isabel stood nearby. There was a silent calm in the room, and Isabel suddenly missed all the traffic sounds of New York that had annoyed her every day. And, yet, she wasn’t really homesick. That life was behind her now, and she didn’t want to go back to it.
“Your wife… your ex-wife or your late wife…?” Isabel was fumbling with her words; she didn’t quite know how to frame the question.
“Late wife. She passed away when Sophie was two,” Liam said, taking a long sip from his glass as he sat down on the couch. The couch too looked too small for him, and Isabel nearly smiled at the sight of him sitting on it with his big long body. This was her husband-to-be. This rugged cowboy.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He suddenly looked at her with his eyes narrowed. “Are you prepared for this life, Isabel?” he asked, almost like he hoped that her answer would be, no.
“Yes, I am,” she said, raising her chin up.
“Have you ever been out here to this part of the country before?” he asked. This time he was studying her body. His eyes rolled over her big chest that stretched the thin material of her dress, her wide hips, and then finally her face that was glowing with nervousness. She felt naked under his gaze and also conscious. She felt like he was judging her. Was he scrutinizing her weight?
“I haven’t been here before, no,” she admitted, still standing before him with the glass of her iced tea in her hands.
“And yet you’re prepared to spend a lifetime here, in these parts, as my wife? As Sophie’s stepmother?” Liam asked, draining the last bits of the drink into his mouth. Again, he sounded like he wanted her to change her mind.
But she was going to hold her ground. It was a deal. She had come all the way up here to escape and she wasn’t going to allow him to simply backtrack.
“I am. Are you prepared for it?” she asked, and he suddenly burst into laughter that surprised her. She hadn’t even so much as seen him smile before, and here he was laughing… at her.
His smile was wide and his whole face seemed to change when he laughed. His shoulders shook too. “Am I prepared?” he asked and laughed some more. As attractive as he looked when he laughed, Isabel couldn’t ignore the fact that he was laughing at her.
“Sure, why not? I could use an extra pair of hands around the house, braid Sophie’s hair, nag her to finish her homework and whatnot. It’s hard work for a man like me to care for a little girl. She needs a woman’s touch,” Liam said and slapped his knee.
Isabel felt her neck burning. She knew this was what the deal was. This was why he had placed the ad. It was obvious. He needed a wife who would care for his daughter. A glorified nanny. But for some strange reason, it instantly made Isabel angry, even a little jealous. She was hoping that he would also say that he needed the loving touch of a wife. That he found Isabel attractive. That he was lonely and he wanted her to fill the void.
But Liam Mayer said no such thing, and instead stood up from his chair and clapped his ha
nds. Like it was all settled.
“Why don’t you start off with the dinner, I have to get back to my horses.” He said and walked past her to place the glass back on the counter.
Isabel glared at him, still hoping that he would miraculously display a softer side.
“What about the wedding?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. She needed concrete evidence that he wasn’t suddenly going to change his mind. A wedding, what she had come here for, would bind him to contract.
Liam looked at her with his usual steely narrowed gaze. His eyes dropped to her breasts and then he looked up at her face again.
“Not so fast, dear girl,” he said and Isabel suddenly felt like a small child. She licked her lips and he smiled again. “You have to prove yourself,” he added.
“Prove myself as what?” she asked, but she knew what he was about to say. Liam Mayer didn’t strike her as a man who was a gambler, as someone who was willing to take his chances.
“Prove yourself to be the wife that I need,” he said, and she raised her chin again. If there was anything that Isabel liked, it was a good challenge.
“If you insist,” Isabel said and shrugged her shoulders. Two can play that game, she thought. If Liam was going to be difficult, she would play hard to get too. He needed her. That was evident. He needed a woman to take care of the house and care for Sophie. And Isabel was determined to prove to him that she was the perfect woman for the job.
She had expected a wedding this evening, to be in the arms of a husband by this time. What she was getting instead was a test. And Isabel was up to the task.
Chapter Five
The next time Isabel saw Liam was when it was already dark outside.
She had spent the past hour, chopping vegetables and making a thick creamy soup with whatever ingredients she could find in the cupboards in the kitchen. She was also baking bread. Dinner rolls, rather, which her own father had taught her how to bake when she was a small girl.
Sophie had come downstairs sometime after her father had left the house, curious to know what had transpired.
The two of them bonded instantly. Sophie hung from the edge of the counter, watching Isabel cook with wide, curious eyes. She claimed she had finished her homework for the next day. She spoke incessantly, filling Isabel in on all the friends she had in her school. She didn’t talk much about her father and she didn’t mention her mother either.
“This smells delicious,” Sophie said with a smile as Isabel plopped thin slices of butter into the boiling soup.
“I can’t remember the last time we had a dinner like this,” she added and Isabel looked up.
“What do you usually have?” she asked. Sophie shrugged her shoulders.
“Instant noodles or ham sandwiches. Daddy isn’t a good cook,” she said and giggled, still watching Isabel closely as she stirred the broth.
“We should go together and shop for some more ingredients. Maybe we can roast a chicken tomorrow,” Isabel suggested and the little girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Can you bake a cake?” she asked.
Isabel nodded. “And cookies, buns, and cupcakes. We need the ingredients, that’s all.” She wiped some of the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Isabel…” Sophie began, watching Isabel with so much interest.
“What was your life in New York like? Was it magical?” Sophie asked, looking up at her with wide eyes. Isabel sighed and opened her mouth to say something, but Liam came into the house right then and interrupted them.
“Daddy!” Sophie shrieked, distracted, and jumped into her father’s arms. He hugged her tightly and lifted her up onto his shoulders.
“Doesn’t it smell lovely?” she asked, rubbing her father’s cheeks affectionately.
Liam looked over to Isabel, who was now pouring the soup into three deep bowls. She had already arranged the dinner rolls on plates. And she tried to suppress a smile as she glanced at him. He looked pleasantly surprised.
“It does, indeed,” he said and lifted Sophie off his shoulders and onto the floor.
“Let’s sit down,” Isabel said as she placed the plates on the small four-seater table. She was careful to place the bowl and plate for Liam at the head of the table and the other two on either side.
“Isabel said she can bake cakes and cookies too. And cupcakes. I’ve never eaten a cupcake. Only seen them on TV.” Sophie was talking excitedly as she sat down at the table and carefully tucked a napkin into the collar of her blouse.
Isabel stood behind her chair as Liam sat down, and she followed next.
Sophie was quick to dig into the food. She made loud slurping sounds as she ate and smiled widely at them both. “See daddy, I told you,” Sophie said and Liam shot her an angry look.
Isabel’s brows raised and she looked at them both quizzically. “Told him what?” she asked Sophie. Her spoon was poised over her bowl of soup. But Sophie wasn’t going to answer, not after the look her father had thrown at her.
“We don’t talk at the table, Isabel,” Liam said as he dipped his own spoon into the soup and slurped it off. She saw his tongue peep out when he did and noticed the way his mouth moved. His lips were covered with the liquid and it shone under the bright light of the lamp hanging on top of the table. He didn’t bother to look at her as he ate, and Isabel proceeded to eat in silence. Sophie was still happy, giggling and enjoying her food exaggeratedly.
Isabel was itching to talk. She couldn’t remember the last time she had remained silent in the company of others for this long.
More importantly, she didn’t know anything about this small family she was sharing her dinner with. Who she had cooked for. She was supposed to marry him and be a mother to Sophie, yet she knew nothing about them. Whatever she could see, she knew. The rest was a mystery.
“I need more supplies for the meals,” she said after several minutes of silence. She could see that Liam was almost done with his dinner. Sophie was nearly done as well, while Isabel wasn’t even halfway there. She couldn’t eat because of the way her stomach was turning. She was hugely attracted to him, but afraid and curious at the same time. Her mind was swimming with mixed emotions.
Liam grunted in response. Then he stood up. “Tuck Sophie into bed when she has finished her dinner. Then go upstairs to the bedroom. Sophie will show you,” he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin. Isabel stared up at him in shock. What was he even talking about? Were they supposed to share a bedroom?
“What’s the matter? You look surprised, Isabel. You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” he asked and another one of his defiant grins began to spread over his face.
Isabel raised her chin and met his eyes, even though her throat was closing in. “Of course,” she said with a weak smile.
“What’s for dessert?” Sophie asked, interrupting their conversation. The little girl obviously had no idea that Isabel’s mind was about to give out. That she nearly fainted from the way Liam was looking at her.
Chapter Six
The bedroom was small. It was neat, like the rest of the house, but it was bare of everything other than the essentials. It didn’t seem like Liam had made any special arrangements for greeting his new bride.
Isabel had helped Sophie brush her teeth, then change into her night clothes and eventually tucked her into her big four-poster bed. Sophie’s room was fit for a princess. It appeared that Liam had pulled out all the stops necessary to make his daughter’s room comfortable and modern.
His own bedroom remained stuck in the nineteenth century, Isabel had never seen anything like it. There were barely any lights in the bedroom. His mirror was old and silver polish was chipping from its sides. She couldn’t see any of his clothes. There were no carpets and only a thin lace curtain hung from the window, the room’s only embellishment.
Isabel smiled as she stood in the middle of the room, thinking about how peaceful it was to read Sophie a story. She had even watched the little girl’s
face as she drifted off to sleep. Sophie held onto Isabel’s little finger as she read. She knew instantly that it was going to be very easy to fall in love with this charming young girl.
Now she was in Liam’s bedroom. Her two bags had been placed by the door and she looked at them with dread.
This was supposed to be their wedding night, but they weren’t even married yet. He had hinted earlier that he wanted to test her worthiness as his wife, even in bed!
Isabel gulped at the thought of that. She was twenty-four years old and still a virgin. She had only had one boyfriend in college and she had never felt comfortable enough with him to go all the way. And here she was, planning on losing her virginity to a man who she didn’t even know. A man who was testing her to make sure that she was marriage material.
Isabel slowly walked over to the window and, to her surprise, found Liam rocking on a chair on the front porch beneath her.
He had his cowboy hat on and he was smoking from a pipe. Again, something she had never seen. He looked like he was stuck in time. He had taken off his jacket, so she could see the faded checked shirt he was wearing, rolled up to his elbows.
He was looking out into the darkness, sitting under the only dim overhead lamp on the porch, rocking silently. Isabel watched him, for several minutes, wondering what it was about him that drew her to him. He barely spoke to her, refused to answer any of her questions, and didn’t seem to appreciate her or even want to marry her. And, yet, Isabel couldn’t help but feel excited.
He wanted her in his bedroom, which could only mean one thing. That he wanted her in his bed.
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