Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection

by Davis, Susan Page; Dietze, Susanne; Franklin, Darlene

  “Oh, Drew.” She shut her eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  His gut went hot and his hands numbed, but he willed his voice to stay even and gentle. “All right, then.”

  He started to withdraw his hand, but she gripped it in both of hers. “My whole life, I heard Pa tell Lemuel and me about all the hard work he had to do to earn the approval of my mother’s father before he could marry her. Pa was a man of character, but he had to demonstrate his worthiness to my grandpa, and he was happy to do it, because he said she was a woman worth working for.”

  “Sounds fair to me.” He squeezed her hand, glad she still held his. Did that mean she did care for him?

  A sad smile twitched at her lips. “I didn’t know it at the time, but all those years when Emory came around as Lemuel’s best friend, he was demonstrating his worthiness to Pa. My family chose Emory for me.”

  Drew’s jaw slackened. “Your engagement was arranged?”

  “Not like that. He loved me, and I loved him, too.” Her chin quivered. So did her hands. “But Pa said a family’s approval is more important than the strings that tug the heart. Feelings are fickle, but worthiness and family approval are solid and sure foundations for a marriage. If I’d loved Emory and Pa hadn’t approved, I couldn’t have married him. I wouldn’t have married him.”

  “You honored your pa. I appreciate that—”

  “You don’t understand. I didn’t love Emory until Pa approved. When I was a little girl, after hearing those stories about proving his worthiness to Ma, Pa made me promise I’d trust my family instead of my heart. Every time someone mentioned Ma after she died, or a local gal married a fellow Pa didn’t like, I heard the story and made the promise.”

  A promise she intended to still keep. Then something she’d said sunk to his marrow. “You didn’t love Emory until your pa approved. You’re afraid of your feelings?”

  Her hands shook harder. “Feelings are fickle, Drew. Pa taught me not to trust them.”

  So she did care for him, but was shackled to her dead pa’s admonitions. Drew prayed for wisdom. “He taught you to trust him, and I’d never suggest you disobey your pa, but he’s gone. Emory’s gone, too. Your promise was made in a different time. The war changed everything.”

  “I know. Every day I wake up to a life without people I love because of that war.”

  “We’ve both got our wounds, don’t we? But we aren’t alone. I may have fought for the Union, but Tennessee is my home, and my Confederate neighbors and kin are still suffering from the devastation of the war, just like thousands of other Southerners—and they’ll suffer for a long time to come. Homes, farms, railroad lines, and businesses were destroyed, and too many husbands, fathers, and brothers didn’t come home. I ache for those folks as much as I ache for the Union losses. There’s no easy way to heal from this war, not on either side, but recognizing and grieving over the other side’s losses might be a step in the right direction.”

  She stiffened. “I—I’m sorry. I haven’t thought of it that way.”

  “I’m not saying it’s easy, though. When Clement threatened me, it hurt me to the bone.”

  “It doesn’t look like it.” Her look was sharp.

  “Because I’m trying to be reconciled with him?”

  “You act like there’s nothing between you but goodwill.”

  He couldn’t hold back a snort. “There’s a world of hurt between us, but I chose years ago to follow God’s ways, even though it’s painful as a bayonet in the ribs sometimes. I have to forgive him, and he’s chosen to follow God, too, so he wants reconciliation. But the truth is, I bear some responsibility in angering him. Before the war, I pestered him about my opinions on federal rights. He agreed with my abolitionist views, but I thought if I preached at him enough against secession, he’d see things my way, when all I accomplished was to make him dig in his heels. That wasn’t brotherly love; it was condemnation. How can I not forgive him for his threat when I need his forgiveness, too?”

  “I’m so angry at him, though. I don’t want to forgive him for threatening you. And I’m sorry the war caused so much suffering, but I can’t blink and forget a Southern soldier killed Emory.”

  When her eyes squeezed shut, he rubbed her fingers with his thumb. “I can’t imagine how losing him feels, but I hope you start at least wanting to forgive the South, for your own sake. And as much as I appreciate you wanting to protect me from my brother, you’d do well to forgive him, too. It’ll be good for you, body and soul, and it’ll make life a lot easier for you, what with him and Frieda sweet on each other.”

  Birdy’s head dropped. “When I saw you all come in together tonight, I wondered. I hoped I was wrong.”

  “Did you see him take Minnie on his lap? Or carry her home?”

  She shook her head.

  “Even Diggory likes him.”

  “Diggory likes everyone.”

  “Well, I aim to be more like Diggory, less judgmental and friendlier.”

  “So you’re saying I’m judgmental.” Her tone was tired, not angry.

  He pressed her now-warm hands in his. “No, I’m saying you’re human. And I’m not challenging your pa either. I don’t know how you feel about me, or if you want to be friends, even, but you’re an adult with good mind and a beautiful heart. If your pa was alive, I’d do all I could to prove my worthiness for your hand, but he’s not. Only you and the Lord together can decide what’s worth fighting to keep the same, and what you’re free to change.”

  One final squeeze, and he let her hands go. “I’ll walk you home.”

  She nodded and gathered her things.

  Drew had a hunch it would be a long, silent walk home.

  Chapter 7

  Birdy didn’t trust herself to speak during the walk home. What could she say to Drew, when he had asked if there was room for him in her heart? When he said he’d prove his worthiness to Pa if he could?

  She cast him a quick glance as he walked beside her, hands loose at his sides. No matter how she felt, she owed him better than to talk about the weather or another inane topic after his heart-stopping revelation. But she couldn’t very well talk about their relationship either. How could she, when she didn’t even know her own heart?

  It was such a confusing muddle. She cared for him, too. Being around him was restful, yet invigorating at the same time, appealing to her mind as well as her heart. Oh yes, how she cared for him.

  But was she wrong? She’d thought she was a confident person, but Pa’s well-intentioned insistence that she couldn’t trust her feelings made her feel foolish and inadequate. And what she’d been taught to trust—her family’s judgment—was no longer with her.

  Drew was right that the war had changed things. He was also right about forgiveness. She needed to at least want to try forgiving Southerners and even Clement—and maybe even herself for having feelings for a man other than the one who’d worked to earn Pa’s approval.

  She glanced at Drew again, walking beside her in the twilight, and she let her imagination wander for an instant. She could take his hand and choose to be with him. But was it worth the guilt and shame she might feel later? Was Drew worth the risk?

  Trudging up the path to the house, she wished she knew the answer.

  Little squares of light shone from the windows, a welcoming sight as dusk deepened to dark. Birdy looked up at the pinpricks of stars beginning to shine through the sky. “Would you like a lamp?”

  “Nah, thanks.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I live next door, remember? And there’s a moon to see by.”

  She couldn’t hold back a snicker. “It’s a good quarter mile to your shelter, according to Frieda—and copperheads are out at night, sometimes. That’s not much of a moon either. It’s only been three days since the new moon.”

  “It’s waxing.” He looked up at it and smiled. “A good time to plant skunk beans.”

  Laughter bubbled up her throat. “I’d almost forgotten Mr. Toovey and his skunk beans.�
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  Drew’s smile changed. It was almost sad. “It was the day we met.”

  “And I’m so glad we did.” Even though meeting Drew seemed to be breaking her already fractured heart. “Good night, Drew. Thank you for seeing me safely home.”

  “Good night, Birdy.”

  When she reached the door, she waved, and for a minute, she watched him walk away.

  Inside, the girls were energetic, stirring Diggory into a jumping, barking frenzy. Instantly, a headache started pounding in Birdy’s temples. Birdy offered Frieda a tight smile. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go up to bed early.”

  “Of course, after such a busy week. Would you like me to bring you some chamomile tea?”

  “Thanks, but no. Good night, girls.” She bent for kisses, patted Diggory, and prayed for escape from her contradictory, perplexing thoughts.

  Pity she’d decided against the chamomile, because she didn’t sleep much. Maybe that accounted for her sour mood the next day, despite the air of festivity surrounding the wedding day for the mother of two of her students, Fred and Benjy Piner. Watching Maggie and Sam exchange vows, Birdy was happy for them, but she still felt … blue.

  All around her, the maids and widows of Turtle Springs were pairing off with gentlemen. Romance carried on the June breeze, and Frieda hadn’t stopped humming all day, except for the moments when she brought Clement into the conversation by sharing something funny he’d said, or how she needed to have fresh cream for his coffee tonight, or how Minnie almost fell asleep when he carried her home from graduation last night.

  After the whole debacle with Mr. Toovey and his skunk beans, Birdy had promised to keep her mouth shut about Frieda’s suitors. Her tongue was raw from biting it all morning.

  It was a relief to part from the Lomaxes after the wedding to go open the schoolhouse for the boys. It didn’t take long for them to replace the benches with the desks, and once they’d finished, she locked up and returned home. As she retraced the steps she and Drew took last night, she repeated their conversation in her mind.

  Pa. Emory. Promises. Forgiveness. It hurt Birdy’s head as well as her heart.

  Once she’d returned to the house, the smell of onions cooking in hot fat met her nose and made her stomach grumble. She hurried to the kitchen, where Diggory curled on the rag rug while Frieda and Minnie worked, still in their Sunday dresses from the wedding, just like Birdy was. After saying hello, she pulled her yellow gingham apron over her head.

  Minnie stood at the sink, drying a spoon with a dishtowel. “Want me to tie your bow, Aunt Birdy?”

  Minnie could tie a bow? Birdy nodded her assent and turned her back for Minnie. “When did you learn how to tie bows?”

  “Mr. Cooper taught me yeth-terday.” Minnie’s little fingers were gentle against Birdy’s spine. “I’m good at it now.”

  “Yes, you are.” Frieda stirred the onions. “But you, Birdy, are awful quiet today.” Then she giggled. “I mean awfully. Sorry.”

  Was she that bad? Shame crept up Birdy’s chest. “I’m sorry for correcting you on something so unimportant, Frieda.”

  “Adverbs are always important, Miss Schoolmarm.” Frieda adopted a mock expression of shock, and then sighed. “I guess I’m not funny.”

  “Yeth you are.” Minnie stacked the utensils.

  “You’re uproarious.” The hyperbole came out glum, and recognizing the irony, she chuckled. “Very well, you found me out. I’m a gloomy goose today.”

  “You must be exhausted, after graduation.” Frieda’s concerned expression vanished when she caught sight of something out the window. Birdy turned. Two male figures strode past toward the barn. The Cooper brothers had arrived to see to the animals. Frieda waved, and they waved back.

  Minnie patted Frieda’s backside. “May I go?”

  “Yes, but be a help, not a hindrance,” she called, even though Minnie and Diggory were already out the back door by the end of Frieda’s sentence. Frieda sighed. “What was I saying? Oh yes. Graduation. How nice it will be to have a rest from teaching this summer.”

  Birdy shut her eyes for a moment. The girls weren’t in the room, so she could speak freely. “I’ve decided to attend a teacher training and job fair in Topeka this summer.”

  Birdy counted to five until Frieda’s face changed. “A job fair? What does that mean?”

  “It means I might not come back to Turtle Springs.”

  “But why?” Frieda’s voice was soft with hurt. She abandoned the pot on the stove and took Birdy’s hands. “You want to leave us?”

  “I think I need a clean slate, and I’m not sure I can stay in this house if you get married again.”

  “But we discussed this when I told you I planned to participate in the auditions—oh. This isn’t about me marrying. It’s about me being friendly with Clement.”

  “When he walked past just now, your eyes lit up like roman candles. I know I said I’d trust you to make your own decisions, but he’s—”

  “A nice man.”

  “Is he? I said I’d be quiet, but as your friend, I must remind you he told Drew he’d kill him. I’m not at all sure that’s the sort of man who should be around you and the girls.”

  Frieda’s grip tightened on Birdy’s hands. “He and I have discussed his hideous threat against his own brother. Twice, for a few hours at a spell. I told him I wouldn’t marry a violent or angry man.”

  “You’ve already talked about marrying him?” Oh dear.

  “Marriage in general. He said his actions grieve him to no end. He also suggested I talk to Drew, so I did. He said Clement never lifted his hand against anyone before the war, and Drew explained that he’d had a part in goading Clement. It’s no excuse, but I’ve made mistakes, too, Birdy. I’m watching carefully, but I truly believe Clement regrets his threat, and he’s truly a gentle man—with the girls, Diggory, me. The cow kicked him on Thursday, and he didn’t get angry. So I’m going to give it time and let him demonstrate that he’s a man of honor and peace now. He’s found God, and he’s willing to confer with the reverend with me over the matter.”

  “Even if that threat was a one-time occurrence that he regrets, he was a Confederate. Hank’s enemy.”

  Frieda’s head shook. “The war is over. Clement isn’t my enemy. He’s the man who’s taken care of my livestock and helped Drew fix my house and played with my girls and looked at me like I was the prettiest thing in Kansas and made me feel alive again. I think I love him, but it’s awful—I mean awfully—soon to tell for sure.”

  Birdy sniffled back tears. “I love you. I want to protect you.”

  “Love me enough to trust me, Birdy.” Frieda pulled her into a hug.

  Birdy remained tucked into Frieda’s shoulder, reveling in her friend’s comfort. “Do you think Hank would mind you loving Clement?”

  “Hank was a gem, and while there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss him, or feel a twinge because I see him in the girls, I am so grateful he didn’t place the horrible burden on me that your pa placed on you.”

  Birdy pulled back and swiped her damp cheeks. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a loving thing to make sure the man who marries your daughter is worthy of her. But it’s another thing altogether to shackle her to a life of singleness because he’s not here to be in charge. In fact, I think he’d agree with me. He always struck me as a gruff sort of fellow, but he loved you, Birdy. He’d want you to be happy.”

  Memories flashed through Birdy’s mind, of Pa’s laughter and teasing and hugs. Yes, he’d want her to be happy. But he’d thought only he knew best what that was.

  Frieda could be trusted to make up her own mind. Could Birdy?

  God, would You and Pa mind—

  A scream from outside pierced the late afternoon air. Birdy and Frieda broke apart and dashed out the back door to the yard. Red faced and crying, Minnie waved her arms as she ran from the barn toward the house.

  Frieda met her daughter halfway and scooped her up in her
arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m th-orry.” Minnie sobbed. “It’s my fault. The piglet-th.”

  Birdy patted Minnie’s back. “What happened to the piglets?”

  Polly and Mary Ann ran from the house. “What’s the matter?”

  A yell Birdy recognized as Drew’s came from behind the barn, accompanied by Diggory’s barks. And then Birdy understood.

  The barn door yawned wide open. The pen doors within must have been opened, too, because livestock scampered free in the yard, including little lumps of pink and black—the piglets. All watched by a lean coyote on the edge of the yard.

  Drew marched away from the yard toward the coyote watching them from the edge of the brush. Usually coyotes were scared of folks, but the lure of a pork supper must be too strong for him to resist, since he didn’t run off despite the noise and activity, and even Diggory barking and running circles around Drew’s legs.

  Unless the coyote was rabid.

  Muttering a prayer that it wasn’t the case, Drew waved his arms and charged at the coyote. “Git! Go on, now!”

  “Careful, Drew!” Birdy’s voice was tight.

  “I am. Get the piglets. And Diggory.” And every other animal Minnie had let escape by opening the pen doors inside the barn. Drew glanced at the ground for a stick to brandish to make himself look bigger, but couldn’t find one, so he continued to wave his arms. “Git!”

  The coyote twitched then stepped to the side but stood its ground. Stubborn thing. Young, too, by the looks of his paws. Drew marched forward as Birdy dashed up to him to scoop Diggory into her arms.

  Maybe it was the sight of two humans coming close, but at last, the animal turned tail and disappeared into the brush. Drew waited a moment, and sure enough, the coyote appeared on the small rise a few yards distant. Drew jogged after it, waving his arms and shouting. This time when the coyote ran, it didn’t stop, and Drew watched until the coyote’s brown coat melded into the scenery.