Bid for a Bride

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Bid for a Bride Page 10

by Nordin, Ruth Ann


  “Lucy?” he tentatively called out, hoping it wasn’t his ma or pa coming to give him unpleasant news, like Lucy’s buggy no longer being in the barn.

  “You’re up early,” came Lucy’s familiar voice.

  His relief was immediate as he held his hand out to her and stepped toward the sound of her voice. He felt her hand wrap around his and smiled.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” she said. “I wanted to make those muffins you like. You know, the ones with the sugar sprinkled on top? But I couldn’t find sugar and had to borrow some from Eliza.”

  Laughing, he reached up to feel her face. Cupping her face with his hands, he leaned forward and kissed her. She was still here. She hadn’t left him.

  She chuckled and brought her arm around his waist while they headed for the house. “I should make muffins more often since you love them so much.”

  “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind that.”

  She stopped walking and warned, “We’re at the steps.”

  Nodding, he lifted his foot and placed it on the step. After they entered the house, she let go of his waist. He listened as she went to the work table, set a cup down, and then walked to the cook stove.

  “Have a seat and rest,” she told him.

  The vibration of the chair scooting as she pulled it away from the table notified him which chair she meant, so he moved to that chair. Before he sat, he asked, “Do you want me to get anything for you? Maybe a pail of water?”

  “No. I don’t mind getting it.”

  When he felt her hands on his shoulders pressing down, he obeyed her silent command and sat down. Her lips touched his cheek before he heard her walk to the work table and gather the supplies she needed for cooking. “You’re going to spoil me,” he warned.

  “I don’t mind spoiling you, Brian,” she replied.

  The happy tone in her voice warmed his heart. He recalled how sad she’d been when they first got married. Though she’d been pleasant and did whatever she could to make him happy, there had been the underlying sense of sorrow in her voice. But now all of that was gone, and he was grateful for it. He liked knowing she was happy. And she was still here with him, sharing her life with him, making his house a home.

  “It’s a gorgeous day out,” she told him. “The weather’s just right, and the wind will make the house nice and cool. There’s not a cloud in sight.”

  “Will you be spending the day with Ma?”

  “No, not today. I want to work on curtains for the empty bedroom.” A bucket clanked as footsteps headed for the door. “I’d like to go to town soon and pick out a rug for that room, if you don’t mind?”

  “No, I don’t mind. We can go any day you want.”

  “How about in two days? I’ll be done with the curtains by then.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be happy to go with you.”

  “I hoped you’d say that.” She chuckled and the storm door squeaked. “I’m going to fetch a pail of water and then I’ll be back.”

  Smiling, he remained seated, content that she would, indeed, soon return.

  ***

  Smiling, Brian entered the work shed and called out, “Pa?”

  A knocking on a table in the room told him that his father was there.

  Setting aside his walking stick, he went over to where he heard the knocking. “What should we work on today?” He held out his hand and waited.

  John took his hand and signed words into his palm. You’re smiling.

  Brian’s grin grew wider. “It’s a nice day.”

  It’s more than nice. You’re smiling like a boy who just discovered candy.

  “I’m married, Pa, and to a wonderful woman. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

  Yes, she is a good woman.

  He chuckled and made a move to walk to his chair, but John grabbed onto his hand. “What?”

  You need to go back home and be with your wife.

  “I can’t leave you to work on all this furniture by yourself. We have too much to work on.”

  The furniture will wait. You need to be with your wife. Enjoy your honeymoon with her.

  Blushing, Brian cleared his throat. “Pa, I’ve already been married for almost a month.”

  So you’d rather be here? Working in a small building with your pa?

  “Well…no. But I can’t stop working because I got married.”

  I got news this morning from your uncle Aaron. We have an order for several pieces of furniture from a man who lives in Sioux Falls. We will take a week to make the delivery. Take a week to be with Lucy. Then come back to work. We will work on the order and deliver the furniture in September.

  “How many pieces of furniture are we talking about?” Brian asked, his interest piqued.

  Six bed frames, two dressers, a china cabinet, four tables, and three rocking chairs.

  Brian’s eyes grew wide. “Why so much? Who wants the order?”

  Someone named Michael. Your uncle said he’s a man of means who saw that table we made for your uncle Shawn. You remember visiting Shawn and his family?

  “Yes.”

  Shawn knows Michael and recommended our furniture. We will work out the details later. Go on to your wife. You’re still grinning like a little boy. I doubt you’ll be able to focus on work.

  “Alright.” Brian paused, his hand still over John’s. “Is there anything else?”

  No. Go on.

  “Thanks, Pa.”

  Brian retrieved his walking stick and hurried back to his house, eager to spend the day with Lucy. When he neared the porch, he heard footsteps on the wood floor of the house and the creaking of the storm door.

  “Brian?” Lucy asked, her tone giving away her surprise. “Did you forget something?”

  “No.” He tapped the first step of the porch with his stick and then brought his foot up. As he ascended the stairs, he continued, “Pa said I should return home. He wants me to stay here for a week.” He hesitated to say more but decided to add, “I think he knows what we did last night.” Her slight gasp made him laugh.

  “But how can he…?” she began.

  Brian walked across the porch. “He said I was grinning like a boy who just discovered candy. I’m afraid I’m too obvious.” He touched the open storm door before he brushed past her, noting the nice curves on her figure that he was now familiar with.

  The storm door settled into place as she shut it. “Well..I suppose there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We are married. Surely, he expected this.”

  Amused that it bothered her at all, he set the walking stick by the door and reached for her. Her hand closed around his and she stepped into his arms. “Pa was right. He said I’d rather spend the day with you than him.” Then, with a wicked grin, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  Chapter Twelve

  Two weeks later, Lucy decided to join Eliza and go into town while Brian and John stayed behind to work on the furniture.

  Eliza looked over at Lucy and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind going in the buggy. It’s easier to manage than the wagon is.”

  Lucy returned her smile. “I can’t help thinking of how I got this buggy whenever I see it, but it doesn’t bother me so much anymore.”

  Eliza squeezed her hand. “Some things can’t be helped.”

  Lucy adjusted her hat as they arrived in town. “I think I’m about done fixing up the house. Would you and John like to come by for supper and see what I’ve done?”

  “We’d love too.” Eliza pulled back the reins on the horse to slow down and nudged Lucy in the side. “There’s Charity with her two daughters and her aunt. You remember them from church, don’t you?”

  Lucy nodded. It was still taking her time to get used to the people in town, but she found it wasn’t the daunting task it originally seemed. She’d grown up in Minnesota and never moved to a new place, so she hadn’t had to adjust to new surroundings until she came here. As Eliza pulled the buggy to a stop by the side of the street and set the brak
e, Lucy grabbed her small purse and got ready to get out of the buggy.

  Charity was the first to notice them as they stepped onto the street. “Good morning, Eliza. Good morning, Lucy,” she called out.

  Lucy followed Eliza to the women and two girls, one thirteen and the other eight.

  “I’m glad you’re in town,” Charity said. “We were going to make a trip out to see you, but now we don’t have to.”

  “Oh?” Eliza asked, her brow raised in interest. “What did you need?”

  Charity glanced at her aunt. “We didn’t need anything. We were going to ask if you’d like any books. You see, my grandmother sent me a trunk full of books, and some are ones I already have.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, Charity.” Eliza glanced at Lucy. “What do you think?”

  “I’d like to take a look at them,” Lucy admitted.

  “That settles it then,” Eliza said. “We’ll be delighted.” As they walked toward Charity’s house, Eliza looked over at Charity’s daughters and smiled. “I know you two get tired of hearing it, but I really can’t get over how fast you two are growing up. It seems like every time I come into town, you’re not so little anymore.”

  Charity’s aunt laughed. “Melody and Sophie grow like weeds. Why, with that tall marshal for a father, they’ll be taller than the rest of us in a few years.”

  Lucy noted the height of the girls and judged that the aunt was right. The thirteen year old was already up to her mother’s eyebrows.

  “Well, they’re turning into beautiful young ladies,” Eliza said.

  “I’m not ready for them to be ladies yet. It seems just like yesterday when they were babies.” Charity sighed and hugged her girls who groaned. “I know, I know. I say it all the time.”

  Lucy hid her smile and followed the other women up the porch steps that led to Charity’s front door. When Lucy entered the house, she felt as if she’d just stepped back into the past—her past. The parlor was so much like the one at her house in Minnesota. The chairs and couch were by the piano. The bookcase was against the wall adjacent to the fireplace. Even the long curtains and frilly rugs were similar to the style her mother fancied.

  Charity’s aunt came up to Lucy and whispered, “Charity never did give up the way we decorated back east.”

  Lucy blinked. Maybe that was it. Her mother was also from back east. Even so, she thought of how her sister used to practice the piano for hours on end in a room similar to this. Shivering, she forced her attention off the piano and the haunting memory of her sister as she sat, humming along with the music. Turning her back to the piano, she watched as Charity walked to the bookcase.

  “This is the row of books I already have copies of,” Charity said. “Help yourself to any you like.”

  Lucy joined Eliza and selected a couple of books she thought might appeal to Brian. “Does Brian enjoy being read to?” she asked Eliza.

  “I read to him from time to time while he was growing up,” Eliza replied before lowering her voice. “Though I wouldn’t read The Scarlet Letter to him. Have you read it?”

  Lucy shook her head.

  “Oh well, the father in that book refused to acknowledge his child as his own,” Eliza whispered. “Needless to say, Brian didn’t care for it.”

  Lucy frowned and turned back to the other books, wondering if there might be something in them that would upset him.

  Eliza put her hand on Lucy’s arm. “The ones you picked will be fine.”

  Hesitant, Lucy glanced over her shoulder and saw that Charity and her aunt were fussing over the girls so they weren’t paying attention to what she and Eliza were saying. “Eliza, is Brian still upset about his past, even after all this time?” It’d been twelve years since his real father deserted him. She’d think it’d be enough time to heal.

  “I don’t know,” Eliza quietly replied. “He never talks about it. When John and I adopted him, he cried a lot. A couple of times, he even hid under the porch. He was afraid. At the time, I thought he worried John and I would abandon him too, but over the years, I’ve suspected there was another reason.” She sighed. “I’ve learned that if a man doesn’t want to talk, there’s nothing that will make him. Men aren’t like women. Women might not be open to talking in the beginning, but deep down, they’re hoping another person will listen to them. So they respond well to prompting. I’ve told Brian he can always talk to me, but he doesn’t want to.”

  Lucy nodded. In many ways, she could understand that. She didn’t want to talk about her past, but she figured those wounds were still fresh. She thought if she had enough time to heal, it wouldn’t be so hard to face what once was. Her gaze traveled to the piano where she could almost see her sister playing. Her sister often chose morbid tunes, though once in awhile she chose something cheery. But in the last twelve months, whenever Lucy entered the parlor while her sister played, her sister would pound on the keys and glare at her.

  “Lucy?” Eliza asked.

  Blinking, Lucy shook her head and stood up with six books in her arms. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking…” She cleared her throat. “Um…I need to remember sugar when we’re at the store.”

  Eliza stared at her for a moment and slowly rose to her feet. “You know you can talk to me, if you ever need to.”

  Lucy nodded and then headed over to the others in the room. “Thank you for the books.”

  Charity turned from her youngest daughter. “Oh, good choices, Lucy. Those are among my favorites.”

  Eliza stepped up to them and smiled. “It was right generous of you, Charity.” She hugged Charity and then her aunt before looking at Charity’s daughters. “Now, you two mind your mother and great-aunt. We’ll see you in church this Sunday.”

  Grateful to get out of the parlor, Lucy hurried out of the room. She waited for Eliza to join her before she left the house, glad to put her memories safely back where they belonged—back in Minnesota.

  ***

  Another two weeks passed, and it had become a habit for Lucy and Brian to go to the creek so they could rest under the shade of a tree. She would, more often than not, read to him, and such was the case on this particular sunny day. She held the book up while Brian rested his head in her lap. As she caressed his hair with her free hand, she read:

  “Aye, aye, mates,” said Long John, who was standing by, with his crutch under his arm, and at once broke out in the air and words I knew so well:

  “Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest--”

  And then the whole crew bore chorus:--

  “Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”

  And at the third “Ho!” drove the bars before them with a will.

  She stopped reading when she realized Brian was stroking her thigh. “You’re not paying attention, are you?”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m just excited about the baby.”

  Her cheeks warmed as she set Treasure Island down on the grass so she could brush his cheek with her fingers. With her other hand she continued to run her fingers through his hair. “I’m excited too.”

  It was still unreal to her, but she was late with her cycle and there was nothing else to conclude. She supposed a trip to the doctor next time she was in town would confirm it.

  “Ma was happy too, you know,” he softly said. “When I told her, she was laughing and crying at the same time. I don’t think she ever expected to have a grandchild.”

  “I’m glad she’ll have one,” she whispered and then traced his lips, mentally noting their soft texture compared to the rest of his face. “My joy is complete when I’m with you.”

  He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “I feel the same way, Lucy.”

  Her smile grew wider. “So, do you want me to read the book or should we go for a walk?”

  “I can’t concentrate on the story right now. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Alright.”

  She waited for him to stand up before she grabbed the book and his walking stick. Once she got to her feet, she handed
him the stick. Slipping her arm around his waist, she led him along the creek. She leaned against him and sighed in contentment.

  “Do you want a girl or a boy?” she asked.

  “I don’t care,” he said. “It’d be nice if the child could see, but I’ll love the child regardless.”

  “Well, I’d like a girl. When I was a child, I used to dream of having a daughter. She wouldn’t be a twin though. She’d come into this world by herself, and I’d name her Charlotte. What do you think of that name?”

  “Charlotte’s a fine name, but why did you mention her not being a twin?”

  She bit her lower lip and tried to determine how much to tell him. How much of her past was relevant now that she was safe here with Brian and his parents? Weighing her words carefully, she said, “I have a twin sister. Her name is Meredith. We look the exact same, and no one can tell us apart. When we were children, we thought it was funny to pretend to be the other one, but then as the years passed, something happened.” She stopped when she saw a large tree root in their path and led him around it.

  “Do you want to tell me more about it?” he asked, following her lead and avoiding the root.

  Exhaling, she said, “I’m not sure what changed or even when. In time, I became aware that she didn’t like me. Only, I thought I was imagining it. On the surface she was nice to me, but I sensed something was wrong. I asked her about it. She assured me nothing was wrong, so I figured it had to be in my head. You know how it is when you think something is a certain way but you find out later on it’s not? I thought it was like that.”

  “Except it wasn’t?” he quietly asked.

  “No, it wasn’t. We have an older brother, and he was the one who confirmed that I wasn’t imagining things. He said she was jealous of me.” She laughed, just as she’d laughed when Phillip told her that was the root cause of the hostility she sensed whenever Meredith was around. “I still don’t understand why. She could sing and play the piano more beautifully than the rest of us. She had a sense of fashion that made her the envy of our friends. The young men were lining up to court her. She has a way with people. Our mother called it the gift of gab. She could charm anyone into doing anything.”

 

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