After pacing around for a few minutes, Mariette decided she wouldn’t spend all day waiting in her hotel room—that was ridiculous. She made her way down the street, crunching through the snow, ready for anything.
Or so she thought.
She turned down the lane and rounded the corner, finding the house next to the blacksmith shop waiting for her. The snow had framed itself perfectly around the homestead, and her heart began to pound as she drew closer. This could be her home soon. Unsure of where to begin, she realized she could hear voices from behind the buildings. Curious and hopeful, she followed the sound.
A pile of snow flew past her cheeks, brushing her shoulder when Mariette rounded the corner. She jumped in surprise, and watched the three of them—Clinton with his sisters—trying to wrangle a loose pig. From what it looked like, the creature had escaped the pen. Noelle was standing by the gate, waiting for the opportune moment as Clinton ran after the animal and Serena threw snowballs at it. A giggle escaped Mariette’s lips before she could help it, and they noticed her. Hurriedly she covered her mouth but it was too late.
Clinton straightened, coming to a stop. He pulled off his hat, looking from the pig and back to her. He waved. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she offered sheepishly, eyeing the situation. Noelle crossed her arms and Serena looked away, fiddling with a new snowball. Mariette hesitated, but decided to speak. “You know, sometimes if you ignore them… and then fill their trough, they’ll come on their own…” She shrugged, smiling a little.
“We didn’t ask for your help,” Noelle shouted. Mariette stopped, and stared. Her heart began to pound as she tried to glance at the girl but the young lady wouldn’t look her in the eye. A lump began to form in her throat.
Clinton glared at his sister. He hesitated but decided to ignore her and then walked to Mariette. “You think so?”
A small smile managed to make it on her lips. “Yeah, it works all the time. Someone’s always leaving the gates open back home, you see. Some of the pigs don’t even leave their pens now.” As the words left her lips, she thought back to her home and family, and a pang of homesickness washed over, silencing her.
Clinton didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he ignored it. He took a deep breath and looked away. Just because he lived with his sisters, didn’t mean he knew how to act around women. Shuffling his foot, he pondered on what she said as he watched his youngest sister pelt the pig with snowballs. It was ridiculous, but he was also tired of running. There was work to be done, and he didn’t like falling behind.
“All right,” he said finally. “Serena, come here. Noelle, step away from the gate. We’ll see if that obnoxious animal will go back on his own. Get him some food, will you?”
“His name is Sir Isaac Watson,” Serena corrected him as Noelle obeyed.
Serena walked over and stood near her brother, peaking around his body to eye Mariette suspiciously. Clinton wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Sure it is,” he muttered to himself and glanced at Mariette gingerly. “I suppose it can’t hurt to try. It’s not like he’ll run very far in this snow.”
Chuckling, he turned to Noelle to wave her over, but she shook her head and marched inside. Mariette wasn’t sure if the young girl had shot her a rude look or if it was her imagination, but no one mentioned it. Her eyes dropped to the pig, snorting around in the snow.
She turned to Clinton. “Just give the curious creature a few minutes. Anyways, I came over because I wasn’t sure what else to do. Do we want to start making any plans? Is there anything I can help with?”
He glanced at her, mystified. “Plans?”
“You’re still getting married?” Serena wrinkled her nose.
Clinton’s face grew red. Of course that’s what she was talking about, what had he been thinking? Swallowing, he fiddled with his hat and tried to shrug it off as the ladies stared at him, waiting. “I… I suppose in a few weeks, to get things straightened out. Perhaps three weeks from er, tomorrow?”
He glanced at Mariette shyly as she cocked her head at him. Her honey-blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and those big eyes seemed to see right through him. Trying to muster up his courage, he found himself straightening up as she began to nod thoughtfully, and a small smile broke out on her lips. “It sounds lovely.”
“Great.”
“I guess,” Serena murmured, staring at the ground. “Can I come help you in the forge still?”
He squeezed his sister’s arm. “Of course. We’ll give Sir Isaac Watson some time, and get those horseshoes straightened.”
Serena smiled and accepted the plan.
Turning to Mariette, he realized he was now accountable for another woman. That thought hadn’t come to mind during a time like this, not when he had been so focused on finding another helping hand. Swallowing tight, he tried to find something to say to her. “I’m afraid there’s not much to do, but I suppose you could join us?”
Apparently it was the right thing to do as she grinned broadly. “Wonderful. I’ve never really been to one before.”
That was an incredulous thought to Serena who had always lived with one right outside her door. “What? But that’s crazy. I mean… where else do you go to get your horseshoes? And your tools? Even your shovels need to be taken care of at a place like this.”
Mariette feigned surprise. “Really? This is where they go to get straightened? I had no idea. What is that process like?”
Clinton was surprised to see Serena launch immediately into a proper explanation, something she had known about since she was permitted access to the shop. While she knew everything frontwards and backwards, the young girl had rarely spoken to others outside of the family, much too shy to make many friends. But by the time they had entered the building, his youngest sister had built up her momentum and was running around the shop showing Mariette everything.
They distracted him as he attempted to finish a few orders he hadn’t been able to do the other day, but he didn’t mind. Usually it was annoying to have company here—but he’d honestly never had anyone so pretty in the shop before. Mariette looked completely out of place here but she seemed to cozy right up and didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. It was amazing how quickly she seemed to have made a connection with Serena.
“Amazing,” she murmured, her eyes lighting up as she watched him bend metal. “Could I try?”
Focusing on the red hot poker, he shook his head. Eyes narrowed, he managed a short explanation, “Too dangerous,” and continued hammering away.
“Of course,” she hurriedly nodded, her smile flickering for only a moment. “Of course. Well I’d hate to bother you here any longer. We’ve slowed you down long enough. Serena, do you want to go check on what was the gentleman pig’s name, again?”
“Sir Isaac Watson,” Serena said stoutly.
“Yes, let’s go see if he’s back in the pen yet,” she offered, glancing at Clinton.
He’d tied his hair back and pulled back his sleeves. Wearing a heavy apron and thick gloves, he seemed more mature and older as he fell into a rhythm of his work. It was amazing, and it took her a minute before she was able to pull her gaze away.
She walked off with Serena, and they found Sir Isaac Watson relaxing next to the finished off trough, too content to move. The younger girl giggled as she closed the gate, their morning problem no longer a concern. Mariette glanced around at the world around them, pulling her cloak on tighter. It had been warm in the forge, but the fire was far away from them now.
“Glad that’s done,” Serena said and turned to Mariette only to fall silent, neither of them sure of what to do then.
Mariette’s heart hammered as she clasped her hands. Clinton was at work, the pig was taken care of, the snow was still there, and Serena was wrinkling her nose. “I suppose it’s nearly time for the noonday meal,” Mariette offered. Only then did she realize she hadn’t eaten breakfast. “Would it be all right if I made us something to eat?”
Seren
a beamed. “That would be wonderful! Noelle only makes the same things over and over. Porridge, then burned bread and cheese, and watery soups for supper. Sometimes we have butter, but it’s rather grainy. Do you think you could make some fresh pastries?”
“Of course,” Mariette said, “anything you like.” She followed Mariette into the house and they took off their coats.
“I can help too,” Serena declared proudly as she took Mariette into the kitchen. They both pulled up short when they found Noelle in the kitchen. Apron tied around her waist, she was up to her elbows various ingredients. Noelle stared at Serena. “What? My food isn’t good enough for you?”
Her little sister turned pale and turned to Mariette for help. “She didn’t say that,” Mariette said, trying to defuse any drama. “What are you making? Perhaps I could help you?”
“Help me? Like you think you’re helping my brother? Helping Serena?” Noelle scoffed and shoved several things to the floor angrily. “We don’t need your help! We don’t need you!” She tore the apron away and stomped off before Mariette could react.
Serena sighed, looking at the apron at her feet before gently picking it up and dusting it off. “It was our mother’s,” she murmured. Mariette watched the young girl clean off the flowered apron delicately before folding it up and setting it down on the table. She sighed, and then sat down beside it.
Mariette didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to go talk to the young lady. She knew this had to be hard, and they hadn’t begun on the right foot—which she still felt annoyed with Clinton for. But perhaps if they could just talk to each other, then they could sort this out. She took a few steps into the hall, but didn’t know where to go from there.
Grudgingly, Mariette turned back around and started to clean up. She could see what Noelle had been doing with the ingredients. A plate of pickles, cured meats, cheese, and bread was partially put together. Her stomach growled and as she didn’t know what else to do.
“Here Serena, you slice the bread.”
Serena grinned, popping up from the table and taking the stirring spoon gladly from Mariette. At least one of the girls seemed to be warming up to her, Mariette thought thankfully. Maybe she could help convince her sister that it was good to have her here. Maybe she could convince her brother, too, since it seemed he still wasn’t excited for their marriage.
Chapter 6
A few days passed, and they still hadn’t started to make any plans for the wedding. At least, not that she was included in. When Sunday arrived, she crossed the town’s streets and attended church but didn’t find Clinton or his sisters there.
The following Monday, she headed over in the afternoon to see if she could be of help, but none of them were home. Mariette waited on the doorstep for a few hours, only to find them coming in from a ride in the mountains. Though she kept on smiling, her nerves began to eat away at her. Clinton never seemed interested in spending much time with her, and Noelle was constantly cruel to her. But no one said a thing about any of it, just acted as if it was normal.
Mariette offered to make supper and Noelle immediately disappeared, storming off in a huff. Clinton agreed and disappeared himself, going to take care of the horses and then work in the forge. Thankfully, she had Serena for company. She happily knitted, chatting about their ride as Mariette cooked.
Mariette was humming a song softly to herself, and it was only when she realized it was a Christmas song, that she realized something else. The day Clinton had set for them to wed was on Christmas Eve. Glancing to the window, she wondered if he had ever realized that himself.
When she finished cooking, she set up a spot for Serena, as well as a bowl that the girl could take out to her brother. Then Mariette set up a tray and went to hunt down the other sister. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to keep moving. It was time to take care of this situation, whatever it was. She found Noelle at the end of the hall in a small bedroom with a lovely little canopy and dried flowers hanging from the walls.
“I brought you some supper,” Mariette offered as she entered, holding out the tray.
“I’m not hungry,” Noelle muttered, her voice muffled as she hid her face in a pillow, collapsed on her bed.
It was time to swallow her fears. Two weeks had passed since her arrival and she wasn’t going to let this continue any longer. Mariette walked fully into the room and set the tray down at the end of the bed. “You sound just like my brother, Henry. One year we didn’t have enough to have bacon on Christmas—and bacon is his favorite, you see—so he locked himself up in the attic. It’s the only place you could have any peace or quiet in our house, and he wouldn’t come back down. Not for the world could we convince him to leave that place. It took him two days to come out, so starving he even ate his green beans. And Henry really, really hates green beans.”
Noelle peaked her face out of the pillow. “That’s because they’re awful.”
Mariette made a face. “Yes, yes, I’m afraid they are.” Grinning, she shook her head and sighed, glancing at the food before turning back to Noelle with a serious expression. “I’m very, very sorry that my arrival was such a surprise to you, Noelle. I honestly thought Clinton would have told you. It wasn’t fair to you, and I’m very sorry.”
“We still don’t need you,” Noelle mumbled, but it was more of a pout now, less malicious than it had been the previous times she’d said it. Mariette hid a smile, knowing she was wearing the girl down.
“I know,” Mariette sighed. “But perhaps with time, you could at least want me here? And,” she paused thoughtfully, “did you ever think that perhaps it was me that needed all of you?”
That made Noelle pause, frowning. “But you have a family. Back from wherever you came from.”
Nodding, she brushed back a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I do. I love them very much, and I miss them. However, it was time that I left my home. The Lord wanted me somewhere else. I’d like to think He wants me here.”
Noelle slowly straightened up. “You go to church?”
Mariette smiled, hoping in her heart that perhaps she would no longer sit alone on the benches there. “Yes, every Sunday. Would you like to come with me?”
The girl hesitated and grudgingly nodded. Biting her lip, she avoided Mariette’s gaze and picked up the bread and added some meat and cheese. Noelle stared at it skeptically before finally tasting a bite. “Oh this is so much better than anything I’ve made,” she groaned. “Please don’t make me come up with something for supper ever again.”
Mariette couldn’t help a laugh, and patted the young girl on her knee. “You just need to know a few tricks, that’s all. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you every one of them.”
From there, the days began to grow a little bit easier. Noelle was slowly opening up, and Serena was glad to have peace in the house. But even then, Clinton stuck mostly to his blacksmith work. Every now and then Mariette was able to convince him to do something with her.
She suggested a ride in the wagon, a walk in the trees, and even reading together, but he was rarely interested. While he was polite and courteous, Noelle was beginning to notice that he wasn’t doing much more. Certainly, it was nothing like the marriage that their parents once had. There was no sign that he might fall in love with her, no sign that he even really liked her. There was no affection in his words or actions towards her, and slowly it was wearing her down. But she didn’t know what to do.
So she did nothing. She continued to build relationships with the girls, but she really wanted to get to know the man she was supposedly there to marry.
Chapter 7
Clinton walked into the house and found all three of the girls decorating the Christmas tree.
“Come, join us,” Mariette offered, waving around her basket of berries. “At least help us wrap the strings around the evergreen, won’t you?”
Clinton rocked back and forth on his feet, hesitating. “I wouldn’t be much help,” he muttered. “I don’t know how to sew or—no,
I’d be no help.”
He shook his head and slowly collapsed onto a chair, closing his eyes. Deep down he knew he should help but he was exhausted from work.
“Serena,” Mariette said while threading her needle, “You do know I can see you, right? Put that cookie back, or you’ll ruin your appetite. I spent all yesterday preparing tonight’s dinner, you silly goose.”
Serena giggled and obeyed before returning to Mariette’s side. He was impressed with how quickly Mariette had grown on the girls, how the spirit of the house seemed to have improved. It was incredible how much had changed in just a year.
Last Christmas had been the worst. They had just lost their parents in that terrible fire and Christmas cheer had certainly been absent from their house. Noelle had cried all day and Serena had put together little bouquets for them, but he couldn’t recall ever thanking her or if he had even left his room.
Then Noelle stood and stalked over to him. “I want to talk to you,” she demanded of her brother, grabbing his arm with both of her hands and pulling him to the kitchen as they heard Mariette and Serena pick up a Christmas melody. It was their parents’ favorite, ‘Away in a Manager’, and for the first time in a long time, Clinton didn’t cringe at the melody.
Noelle slapped his arm. “Stop that,” she hissed.
“Ow, what?” He scowled, freeing himself from her grasp. “What is it, Noelle? Because no, I don’t have any money.”
Offended, she hit him again. “I haven’t asked you that in a long time,” she reminded him. “Not since she arrived.” Noelle paused. “You do know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”
Clinton shrugged. “Mariette?”
“Oh good, so you do know she exists,” Noelle crossed her arms, and gave him a purposeful look that he accepted with a blank expression. Frowning, she stomped her foot. “Why are you marrying her, if you don’t love her?”
Christmas Miracles: Mega Mail Order Bride 20-Book Box Set: Multi-Author Box Set Page 58
