by Kit Morgan
“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Rose said politely.
“He’s looking forward to welcoming you to the family,” Mrs. Quinn replied with a huge smile. “I’ll send him back just as soon as he arrives.” She glanced between Rose and Matthew, eyes bright, and left the parlor.
Rose felt Charlotte stiffen, and wondered why. She was a pretty girl with chestnut hair and big, hazel eyes. Why she wasn’t married Rose had no idea, other than the obvious. But so far, Rose didn’t see the haughty girl people also described as a horrible gossip. She sat quietly and stared at her gloved hands, as if she were afraid to make eye contact with any of them. She’d borrowed a dress from Summer, a pretty pink calico with a lace trimmed collar. She hoped he liked it. Matthew that is, yes … of course Matthew.
Rose cleared her throat. “Has your father been away?” she asked him.
He’d been sitting, staring at the teapot, and jolted upright. “Oh, ah … no. Just to my aunt’s farm. She makes things, you see, and father goes to her place every few months to collect orders, and then brings them to the mercantile so people can pick them up.”
“What does she make?” Rose asked, curious.
He picked up the teapot and began to pour. “Different things, dresses, quilts, hats. She’s an incredible seamstress. None of us knows why she doesn’t move into town and set up shop.”
“Is she alone?” asked Tom.
“No,” Matthew answered. “I have three cousins. They take care of her and the farm, but there’s no reason why they couldn’t run the farm and let Aunt Mary move to town. My cousins take care of all the work on the place.”
“I remember your cousins,” Charlotte said softly. “I’ve not seen them in ages. I don’t blame your aunt for not moving, those are her sons after all, and until they marry, don’t count on it happening.”
Matthew shrugged. “I see your point, but have no idea why she stays either. My cousins always were an unruly lot. Probably why none of them are married! But enough of Aunt Mary, Tell us about your self, Rose. If we’re to be married, I want to know all about you.” He smiled and handed her a cup, then fixed another for Charlotte.
Rose took a deep breath. “Where do I begin?”
Matthew looked up from his work. “Why don’t you tell us about your trip? Charlotte tells me … well, she informed me life in New Orleans could be difficult. Did you … get out of the city without incident?”
Her face paled. She swallowed and looked at each in turn. “It’s all very silly, actually.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t inquire about your trip yesterday,” Matthew told her. “My bucket ordeal had me pre-occupied.”
She smiled, “I understand. Did the doctor come look at it?”
“He didn’t tell me anything I don’t already know. It’s twisted. Now, back to you.”
She took a sip of her tea, and set her cup down. “If you must know, I gave birth to a bundle of petticoats somewhere between New Orleans and the third stage stop.”
Matthew almost dropped his teacup. “I beg your pardon?”
Charlotte’s eyes grew wide, as she took on a bemused look.
Tom, on the other hand, leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I can’t wait to hear this.”
She smiled. “Now that I look back, it is funny. At the time, I was worried, but only for a moment, and made it out unharmed.”
“Then it’s all true?” Charlotte asked. “What Summer and Elle have told my sister?”
Rose nodded. “Men who look for women to put to work as …”
“You don’t need to say it,” Matthew cut in.
“What?” asked Tom, “that these are the same men Sheriff Riley’s wife had to deal with?” He was sitting straight as a board now, his face set like stone, his eyes bordering on outright fury.
Rose felt something deep within her ignite, like a tiny flame. “I … I don’t know. Mrs. Ridgley, the owner of the mail order bride service, had me stuff petticoats under my dress so I would look like …”
“You were pregnant?” Matthew asked in shock. He quickly dumped two teaspoons of sugar into his tea.
Rose looked to the floor. “I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you, but it worked. No one looked twice at me, and now here I am.” She raised her eyes to his and met them head-on. I apologize if the circumstances around my departing New Orleans have shocked you. Perhaps I should have kept them to myself.”
“No ma’am, I’m glad you told us,” Tom said. “We’ve been looking for more clues as to what happened a couple of weeks back.”
Rose looked from one face to the other. “Oh, that. Summer and Elle told me …” Her eyes widened and slowly gravitated back to the deputy. “I … I understand you had to shoot …”
“Enough!” Matthew said as he held up both hands. “Let’s start over, and talk about something more pleasant, shall we?”
Rose, Charlotte and Tom looked at each other, and sipped their tea at the same time.
Matthew took a sip of his own to calm himself, before setting his cup down once more. “Why don’t I start? I’ll ask questions, you answer.”
Rose set down her own cup. “All right. What would you like to know?”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“Can you read?”
She started at the question, but had to remember where she was, and where she’d come from. Her reading was decent, her father taught her when she was still quite young. “Yes,” was all she offered, she didn’t like to talk about her parents or how they died. As soon as that subject was opened, they would want to know the details.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“None, and if I had, I’m sure I could never have left them behind in New Orleans. You?”
He shook his head.
Tom and Charlotte watched them go back and forth, and leaned in during the pause, waiting for one of them to speak again.
Rose glanced about the parlor. “What did you study?”
Matthew pushed his spectacles up. “Study?”
“At school. Your mother told me you were gone for a long time.”
“Oh,” he said and looked at Charlotte. “Yes, I was. Four years.”
Rose watched him. He wasn’t looking at her like that. Hmmm … maybe she should think about Elle’s suggestion, and pay attention to Tom Turner for a while to see what her “intended” would do.
“Do you like being a deputy, Mr. Turner?” she tossed out, and then adjusted her position on the love seat, to add to the effect.
His eyes darted between her and Matthew. “Ah, I like it fine, Miss Smith,” he said slowly.
Charlotte’s face, meanwhile, had softened as she looked at Matthew much the same way he was looking at her. Was she showing her true colors, and vying for his attention like the Riley women said she would?
“Do you like being a mail order bride?” Tom drawled.
She stared at him, her mouth half-open to speak, but she didn’t dare say the word that rushed to the tip of her tongue. No! She smiled instead and picked up her cup. “This is all so very new, I don’t know what to think.” Which was true enough, and at this point, she really didn’t know what to think. Matthew was looking at Charlotte like she could do no wrong, but with a sadness she didn’t understand. What was going on?
“Where were you born?” Tom asked.
She pulled her gaze from Charlotte and Matthew and gave him her full attention. “Philadelphia.”
“Me, I was born and raised in Clear Creek. I imagine I’ll raise a family, grow old, and die there too.”
“Clear Creek? Where is that?”
“Couple hundred miles south of here, nice place. You outta see it sometime.”
Right now, Rose wanted to see Matthew look at her, but he was staring at the teapot again, his brow furrowed in … what? What was he thinking? Charlotte too, had turned away, and gazed at the door which led to the storefront.
Rose sighed. Th
is tea was about as productive as a room full of turnips trying to out grow each other. She thought today would be better, but Matthew was distracted, and not as interested in her as she hoped he’d be. There had to be something they could talk about! Then she remembered, “I hear there’s a Valentine’s dance.”
Matthew’s head snapped up, and he looked directly at Charlotte.
Rose’s shoulders slumped. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was more interested in Charlotte, than he was in her. But how could that be when everyone told her she was such a difficult person to be around?
“Yes, it’s held every year,” Matthew said matter of fact. Finally, he looked at her. “I would be honored to escort you.”
A chill went up her spine, but not out of anticipation. If not that, then what? Shouldn’t she be happy he said he’d be taking her to the dance? “Do … do you think we’ll be married by then?”
Tom sipped his tea with a loud, slurp.
Everyone turned to him. He looked at them over the rim of his cup, his cheeks red, then set it down. “Ah, mind if I have some more of that? I’m plumb out.”
Matthew picked up the pot, and poured.
Rose turned to Charlotte. “Who is escorting you to the dance?”
The pot hit the table hard, causing Tom’s tea to slosh. Charlotte sat up a little straighter. “No one, I’m going … alone.”
Rose watched at Matthew’s jaw tightened. What was he so upset about? She then studied him. He was looking at the tabletop, his lips pressed together in a firm line, his body rigid.
“Miss Charlotte?” Tom asked.
She looked at him, and gave a tentative smile. “Yes?”
“If’n you like, I can escort you to the dance. You’re too pretty to go by yourself.”
She blushed at his compliment.
Matthew snapped a biscuit in two and plunged it into his tea. He then stuffed it into his mouth and chewed as he eyed the deputy. Was he scowling? Intrigued, Rose quickly looked to Charlotte, who was now staring at Deputy Turner with the same look she’d been giving Matthew. Oh good grief!
Rose grabbed the teapot and poured herself a second cup. When she set the pot down, no one had so much as glanced her way as they sat frozen in place, staring at each other. She sat back with her cup, and sipped slowly. This was going nowhere, fast. She almost choked on her tea as she fought against a giggle. Nowhere. Fast. Name of the town …
“I …” Charlotte began.
Both men leaned forward, Matthew in mid-chew.
“I’d be honored to attend with you,” she told Tom.
Matthew quickly picked up his cup, and drained it. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to … step out.” He stood, favoring his injured ankle as he did, and limped to the back door.
“You need any help, Mr. Quinn?” Tom asked.
“No, need some air, and the privy.”
Charlotte and Rose blushed, and turned their faces away at the announcement.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” the deputy asked again.
“Fine! I’m fine!” he snapped, shoved his spectacles up his nose, and headed for the hallway. “I’ll be back momentarily.
They watched him go, listened to the kitchen’s back door open, and the subsequent slam that followed.
“Is it just me,” Tom drawled. “Or does he seem upset?”
Rose and Charlotte looked at each other. “I don’t know him well enough yet to say,” said Rose.
He looked to Charlotte. She shrugged. “I’ve just realized I don’t know him at all…”
“But didn’t you grow up together?” Rose asked.
“Yes,” she said in a soft voice. “But I guess I should have paid closer attention.”
* * *
Matthew stumbled down the mercantile’s back steps to the privy. He didn’t really need to use it, the thought alone made him shudder. He much preferred the water closet in his family’s living quarters. They were one of the few families in town that had one, but preference aside, he needed to get out of the parlor. He’d begun to entertain visions of a shoot-out with Deputy Turner, and the thought drove him to the street in hopes the cold air would bring him to his senses.
What was he thinking? Good Lord! If Tom Turner wanted to escort Charlotte to the dance, he had every right to do so! It’s not like she was committed to go with him, even though he did ask her first, before Miss Smith showed up, that is.
Matthew plopped down on the porch steps. What was he to do? His feelings for Charlotte were out of control! He wanted to scream in Tom Turner’s face to get away from her, but what would that do? He had to think about poor Miss Smith and what to do about her.
“Hello, son!”
Matthew looked up to see his father driving their team down the back street toward him. He’d not seen the man since his return home. “Pa!” He stood to greet him, and held to the porch rail for support.
His father brought the team to a halt, set the brake, and climbed down from the wagon. He grabbed Matthew into a fierce hug. “I’ve missed you, Matt.” He pulled away and looked him up and down. “Your ma been stuffing you already?”
“Not yet, but she’s warming up.”
His father looked him over a second time. “What’s the matter, you sound like someone died.”
Matthew waved a hand toward the mercantile. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just needed some air, that’s all.”
“You’re still a rotten liar, son. You never did have a poker face.”
“Well, if you must know,” Matthew said, put both hands to his head, and pulled on his hair. “Mother … ordered me a mail order bride.”
“Oh. Yes, that. She’s here already, I take it?”
Matthew nodded.
“Your ma and I only want what’s best for you, Matt, and you know there aren’t any womenfolk of marrying age around here. It could be years before any your age come to town, and after seeing how well it worked out for Leona’s boys … ”
“I know, I know. You thought it would work out for me.” He looked at his father, and let go a weary sigh. “I wish you would have waited, let me handle the details. I would have gotten around to at least thinking about marriage, and you forget, there are women in this town ready for marrying.”
“Abbey Davis is taken, there is no one else,” his father stated in a calm voice.
“There’s her sister, Charlotte …”
“Charlotte Davis! Matthew, have you gone plumb loco? Charlotte Davis,” he shook his head followed by a few tsk, tsk, tsks. “You’re not getting any younger, Matt. And your ma keeps talking about grand children ...”
“Grandchildren!” He let go of him. “Not right away, first things first, after all, but she’s adamant about them.”
“Well, she can be adamant about them a little longer. Let me get married first!”
His father laughed. “The bride your ma sent for, what’s she like?”
“Miss Smith?” Matthew shrugged. “She’s pretty … beautiful in fact. She can read …”
His father laughed again. “Always a plus. What else?”
“She’s in the parlor.”
“The parlor? Then what are you doing out here?”
“I told you, I needed some air.”
His father put an arm around him. “Son, you don’t leave a beautiful young woman alone in the parlor.”
“She’s not alone, Deputy Turner is with her.”
“What!” His father narrowed his eyes on his son as he looked at him. “Matthew, I spent a lot of money to bring that gal out here, and if she’s pretty and she can read, then what’s the problem? Take your time, get to know her, but give it try at least. I know you’re angry with us but …”
Matthew held up his hand to stop him for saying anything more. “I’m sorry. I forgot about the expense, and … I know you did it out of love … but this isn’t a horse or a dog we’re talking about.”
“Give the girl a chance … wait a minute, what are we doing wasting time out here when your ma
il order bride is inside alone with Deputy Turner!”
“She’s not alone with him. Charlotte Davis is in there too.”
“Great Scott! Everyone in town will know what went on!”
“Pa …”
“Does your ma know?”
“Yes, she helped arrange it, now calm down.”
His father went to the horses and patted the nearest one. “Why don’t you ask the good deputy to come out here and help me unload this wagon while you spend some time with your future bride.”
Matthew looked to the wagon. It would take them a while to unload it, and get Tom out of the parlor and away from Charlotte. “All right, I’ll do that.” He turned and hobbled up the steps.
“What happened? Why the limp?”
“Long story. Part of why I’m out of sorts, I guess.”
“Matt, promise me you’ll give it a try, get to know her … marry?”
He stood stock still a moment before he turned to his father. “I’ll … try.”
“Good man. Now fetch me that deputy.”
* * *
“And then … ha, ha, ha! Then, Mr. Berg, he done ate seven pies in one sitting! That man was sick the next day, let me tell you!”
Matthew stood in the doorway in stunned silence as Tom regaled the women with some sort of tale. They were laughing so hard they had to hold onto each other for support.
“And then what happened?” Rose asked excitedly.
Tom tried to stifle his laughter but didn’t quite manage it. He snorted instead. “He was so sick …the next day-snort- he not only lost the pies, but my pa’s horse- Mrs. Poppins- kicked him so hard she broke a couple of ribs!”
“That’s awful!” Charlotte cried.
“That ain’t the worst of it! That old draft horse shoved him into a wall with a nail sticking out of it, and it stabbed him in the chest!”
Both women gasped.
“By the time Miss Madeline found him, he was covered in blood and …”
“What sort of story is this?” Matthew bellowed. “Imagine, telling womenfolk such things!”
“I think they’re exciting!” Rose chimed in, her eyes bright.
Matthew’s jaw dropped. “You find a man being stabbed in the chest, exciting?”
