The Accidental Mail Order Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  She nodded as she put some pancakes on his plate. “We did some talking, too, but we were cleaning for the most part.” She jumped up and grabbed some syrup for him to put on his pancakes. “I almost forgot this.”

  “Caroline and Phoebe are nice women.”

  “They are. I’m glad I got a chance to meet them.”

  He poured some syrup on his pancakes then glanced at her. “You know, I like their husbands. Abe and Eric have always been nice to me.”

  He handed the syrup to her but didn’t continue talking. She sensed he had something else in mind, so she encouraged, “What is it?”

  “Well…” He picked up his fork and turned it over in his hand for several seconds before saying, “I was just thinking that since you get along with Phoebe and Caroline and I get along with Abe and Eric that maybe…” He cleared his throat. “Um, maybe we can have them over some time.”

  Not expecting this, she almost dropped the syrup as she was pouring it. “Really?”

  “Growing up, I never had friends. It was just me and my father. I got the scars when I was five, and people made fun of me for it. Until I came here, there wasn’t anyone I could trust not to make fun of me behind my back.”

  “Oh, Travis, that’s awful.”

  He shrugged. “After a while, I didn’t mind. I even liked being alone. It’s easier to work with things than it is to deal with people.” Shifting in his chair, he said, “I like being with you. You accept me as I am. When I’m with you, I feel like a normal person. I don’t have to worry that you find me lacking.”

  “You’re not lacking in anything.”

  “I know you mean that. I couldn’t be sure with some in the past, but you’re sincere. And because of that, you make me want to try new things. Caleb said Eric and Caroline have had supper with Abe and Phoebe. I thought it’d be nice if we could have all of them here whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, but are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

  “I probably won’t say much,” he said. “But if I never take a risk, I might miss out on something worthwhile. I know that’s true after marrying you. My life has never been better, and I’m not just saying that because you make the most delicious food I’ve ever tasted.”

  She grinned, pleased to note he’d told another joke. “My life is better with you, too.”

  He returned her smile and started eating his breakfast.

  ***

  Eric walked up to Ida’s house where the younger children were playing a game of tag in the yard. Ida was sitting in a chair on the porch, her ankle propped up on a pillow that rested on a wooden crate. He’d heard she had sustained an injury to her ankle when she was on Carl’s property. Well, if nothing else had come from the injury, at least he knew she wouldn’t be able to run off this time when he started talking.

  “How’s the ankle doing?” he asked as he pulled up the other chair and sat beside her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t come here to ask about my ankle. You came to give me another lecture about my tendency to gossip. But I haven’t been spreading any falsehoods.”

  “No?” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice so the children wouldn’t overhear him. “Jerry talked to me yesterday, and he was upset.”

  “He only has himself to blame. If he hadn’t sought out another woman’s bed, he would be just fine right now.”

  Eric groaned. “Ida, how many times do I have to tell you to stop this nonsense?”

  “You told me to stop gossiping. I did that. I even apologized to your wife and told other people I was wrong about her. And she wasn’t the only one I was doing that for. I’ve been doing that for everyone I’ve spread lies about. But,” she straightened in her chair and leaned toward him, “I will not apologize for warning a poor, unsuspecting woman that her husband is committing adultery. She has a right to know.”

  Eric shook his head in aggravation. “Just because you think Jerry is having an affair, it doesn’t mean he is.”

  “That’s just it, Sheriff. I don’t think it. I know it.” When he frowned at her, she continued, “Maybe you have to be a woman to understand, but we’re born with an intuition that lets us know if something’s wrong. Violet’s been sensing something has been wrong for the past six months. She just couldn’t tell what it was until I told her I caught Jerry hiding that green dress in his wagon.”

  With a groan, Eric rubbed his eyes. “He already explained that. It was supposed to be a gift for-” Something in the back of his mind told him Ida had just let something very important slip into the conversation, and after a moment of sorting through her words, he knew exactly what it was. “What color did you say the dress was?”

  “Green. It had buttons down the front, and it had little lacy frills around the edges of the sleeves. Violet wouldn’t wear that kind of dress. It’s not her style.”

  Eric’s eyes grew wide. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He knew Jerry. Jerry was a good man. He was the superintendent of the school. He housed the preacher whenever he was in town, and he helped him with the sermons. He doted on his wife and children. The family always looked happy whenever they were together.

  It didn’t make sense. Why would Jerry want to kill anyone, much less Lydia? Then Eric recalled she’d been expecting a child. The doctor even said she’d been about five months along. And Ida just said Violet noticed something was wrong for the last six months.

  As much as he hated where his thoughts were going, a lot of the pieces fit. Violet had said Jerry went to dump off their garbage at the landfill outside of town the evening Lydia was murdered, and since Hank said he saw Jerry heading out in that direction with his wagon, Eric hadn’t thought more of it than that.

  But…what if he dropped off the garbage and then went to pick up Lydia? He would have been in a wagon, and she’d been pushed from a moving vehicle. That didn’t explain why she changed into a red dress, but Eric would have to let that question wait for a while. At the moment, he had to focus on Jerry’s motive. If Lydia had been carrying his child, it would do a lot of damage to his reputation.

  And now, with Ida telling others he was having an affair, his secret was in danger of being exposed. Carl Richie wasn’t attacked until Ida started that particular rumor. What if, in an act of desperation, Jerry was trying to coerce Carl into confessing to the murder? And what if, since Carl wasn’t going to confess, Jerry got desperate enough to kill Carl, too?

  Eric bolted to his feet. “I have something I need to do. Thanks, Ida.”

  Ida’s jaw dropped, but she didn’t say anything as he hurried off her property.

  ***

  Travis picked up the gun from the top shelf in the building and put it in the holster around his waist. He put on his hat and started heading for the door when he caught sight of Allie from the window. She was taking a pail out to the well.

  Just the sight of her was enough to make him stop. He still couldn’t believe she’d made love to him. And not just once, but three times. Then she’d welcomed him to the kitchen table for breakfast and shared another meal with him. It was something a normal husband and wife would do. He no longer had to feel like an outcast. He now had a place where he belonged. And that place was with her.

  He glanced at the box resting on the back shelf. After a moment, he went over to the shelf and took the box. He opened it up. All of Allie’s notes were in there, right along with his father’s pipe, the toy train, and his mother’s wedding ring.

  He picked up the ring and studied the gold band. His father had kept it in his pocket up to the day he died, saying it made him feel like Travis’ mother was with him. Then, as he lay on his deathbed, he gave it to Travis. “Give it to the young lady you marry someday,” his father had told him.

  At the time, Travis hadn’t had the heart to tell his father that he’d never have anyone to give it to. Instead, he’d assured his father that he would and left it at that because he hadn’t wanted to ruin his fa
ther’s last moments on things that would never be.

  But he had gotten married. Granted, it happened in a way he never would have expected. As his father often told him, sometimes good things happened when people least expected it. And he couldn’t think of anything better than having Allie in his life. For the first time in his life since his father died, he had someone who could accept him—really accept him.

  Sure, Abe and Eric did. Carl even did, too. They treated him with respect. But it was different with her. She had let him in her heart. She was willing to make a life with him as his wife, and she was willing to have his children. That made her special in a way no one else could ever be.

  He glanced at the window and saw Allie was returning to the cottage with the pail. She was worth giving the ring to. He shut the box and put it back on the shelf. Clasping the gold band in his hand, he left the building and followed her into the cottage. She had just put the pail on the worktable when she noticed him.

  “Do you think you’ll be back in time for lunch?” she asked.

  “Probably not,” he replied. “The ride to Carl’s will take about an hour.”

  Though she smiled, he noted the disappointment in her eyes. “I didn’t realize it took that long to go out there. So when do you think you’ll be back?”

  “If all goes well, a couple hours.”

  She dipped a cup into the pail and filled it with water. “You should have something to drink before you leave.” She lifted the cup and held it to him.

  As he took it, his fingers brushed hers and, once again, that familiar tingle raced up and down his spine. This time, he didn’t find it unnerving. It was a nice reminder of the previous evening.

  “I know this is going to sound silly since a couple of hours isn’t really that long,” she said as he drank the water, “but I’m going to miss you.”

  He stopped drinking just shy of emptying the cup, his eyes meeting hers. She was going to miss him? He couldn’t recall anyone ever missing him before.

  Setting the cup down, he closed the distance between them and opened his free hand to show her the ring. “This was my mother’s. I thought you might like to wear it. You know, because you’re my wife.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit of his former shyness returning. “Um, I can adjust the size so it’ll fit.”

  “You want me to wear your mother’s ring?” Allie asked, the tone in her voice letting him know she was touched by his offer.

  “Well, you’re the most important person in my life, and the ring is one of the few things I have that mean something to me. I’d like you to have it.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she accepted it. “Travis, that’s such a beautiful thing for you to say. I’ll be happy to wear it. In fact, I won’t ever take it off.”

  “Well, we need to see if it fits first.”

  After she brushed away her tears, she slipped it on her finger, and he noted it was loose. Taking her hand in his, he judged how loose it was. “When I come back, I’ll make it smaller so it fits better.”

  “In the meantime, do you mind if I keep it in my pocket?”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.”

  She slipped it into her pocket and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He brought her into his arms and deepened the kiss. He didn’t know if his father or mother could look down from heaven to see them, but if they could, he imagined they were smiling, knowing the ring was with someone deserving of it. More than that, they would be happy he’d found someone who sincerely cared for him, and that made his joy all the more complete.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carl glanced at his gold panning supplies. He shouldn’t be stuck inside his cabin. He should be at the stream seeing if he could find gold. If his father hadn’t been so certain there was a good amount of gold somewhere along the twenty acres, Carl would have given up a long time ago. But his father had been certain of it.

  He stared at the missive he was writing to Juliet Gilbert. Not many women were answering mail-order bride ads, so he considered himself fortunate she had. At the rate he was going, he would need another five years to cover the portion of the stream he hadn’t panned yet. In order to have that much time, he needed to get the child, and to have one, he needed to have a wife.

  He let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know what prospect frightened him more: having to get the wife pregnant or risk being killed by Lydia’s murderer. Both seemed equally unpleasant.

  He rose from the small desk and studied the land. He lived on the slope of a hill, and that hill was covered with trees. Thick ones. Anyone could be out there, and he wouldn’t know it.

  But he had to get to town and mail off the missive to Juliet tomorrow. That’s when the next stagecoach was coming in. If the killer was out there, he supposed he’d just have to deal with him. He let out a heavy sigh and returned to the missive so he could finish it.

  After he was done, he addressed the envelope and sealed it up. A knock at the door made him bolt upright. Who’d be knocking on his door? Was it the killer?

  As soon as the thought came to mind, he dismissed it. That was ridiculous. The killer wouldn’t come right up to his door and knock. He’d be lying in wait for him and tackle him to the ground like he did last time.

  To be sure, though, he peaked out the window to see who it was. Travis stood at the door. He relaxed and went to answer it.

  “I wanted to make sure you’re alright,” Travis greeted.

  “I’m doing as well as can be expected,” Carl replied.

  “You’re still not getting much sleep?”

  “It’s hard to sleep when you know someone wants you dead.”

  “Maybe you should come over to my place. It’s not doing you any good to stay here by yourself.”

  Carl considered the offer but hated the thought that the killer might come through his cabin and destroy the few things he cared about, his mother’s oak desk being one of them. “I’ll be fine as long as I stay inside.”

  Travis glanced at the small barn. “Are you feeding your horse?”

  “Yes. It’s about all I do outside.”

  “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

  “Well,” he went over to the desk and took out the missive, “I would appreciate it if you’d take this to the stagecoach tomorrow.” Recalling how self-conscious Travis was about his looks, he quickly amended, “On second thought, you don’t have to.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ll take it.”

  Carl studied him. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded and held his hand out. “I’m sure.”

  Carl handed him the missive. “Thanks.”

  Travis took the missive but didn’t leave.

  “Is something wrong?” Carl asked.

  Travis glanced around, and Carl followed his gaze, wondering if there was something Travis had picked up on that he had missed.

  “I don’t know if I should say anything,” Travis said, his voice low, “but it’s been on my mind ever since the sheriff told me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Did you know Lydia was expecting a child?”

  Lydia was what?

  “I take it by your expression, you didn’t,” Travis said. “The sheriff had her body dug up and asked the doctor to do a thorough examination. She was five months along.”

  “Well, the child wasn’t mine. I only managed to get her into bed at the end of June.” And that had taken a lot out of him. Just thinking about it drained him. “Before then, we hadn’t done anything for three years.”

  “Then the sheriff might be right. Whoever killed her wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret.”

  It also explained why Lydia kept laughing at him and saying that he’d never get the child he needed in order to hold onto the stream. She’d only allowed him to be in bed with her so she could remind him of how inept he was. It was just another way to make him miserable. If the killer wasn’t after him, he’d be inclined to thank the man for getting rid of her.

  “If you can t
hink of anyone who might be the father, it’d help the sheriff narrow down the suspects.”

  Carl snorted. “She slept with so many men even I lost track of them all.” And she hadn’t been shy about telling him all about her escapades while in town, either.

  “Well, it might help to write them down anyway. I can give the sheriff the list for you.”

  He didn’t see how it’d do any good, but since Travis seemed to want him to say yes, he said, “I’ll think about it. Going over a list of my dead wife’s lovers isn’t exactly something I want to do.”

  “I understand, but if you can give the sheriff anything to help him catch the killer, it’d be worth the unpleasantness you’d have to go through.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he repeated. After a moment, he added, “Thanks for delivering that letter for me.”

  Travis tucked the missive into his pocket and tipped his hat.

  Carl gave one last look around his property as Travis got up on his horse. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. But then, nothing had seemed unusual that day he was attacked at the stream, either. With a shiver, he closed the door.

  He went over to the chair and looked out the window as Travis headed off his land. Sometimes he envied Travis. All of his scars were on the surface. Carl had to carry his around inside.

  With a sigh, he leaned back and stared at the wall in front of him. What had once been a home was now a prison. Maybe he should let the murderer kill him. At least then, his worthless life would be over with.

  A noise on the porch caught his attention. Bolting out of the chair, he looked out the window and saw a dog sniffing around the front door. His eyebrows furrowed. He hadn’t seen that dog before. Sure, a stray would come through here once in a while, but this large brown and white dog hadn’t been one of them.

  He opened the door, and the dog sat down, looked up at him, and whined. Surprised, he knelt in front of the animal and patted its head. The dog wagged its tail. The dog wasn’t wild. By the looks of it, it was used to being around humans.