“Clark. I’m ashamed of you. Leave the poor men alone.” Mrs. Terry bought a few minutes quiet from her inquisitive husband. “There’s a newspaperman in town from Godey’s Lady’s Book interviewing the couples. You can read his article.” She winked at Debbie. “It’s plain to anyone with a female sensibility these two couples have chosen well. Pretty soon our little church might have so many weddings scheduled, we’ll have to hold two in a single day.”
Weddings. Debbie focused on the one word from Mr. Terry’s question that registered. She looked down at her dress, imagining it with a bustle, barely narrow enough to pass down the center aisle of the church. Such a thought was impractical—no one would wear a dress for only one day. That she couldn’t wear in the future. No, the outfit she had on would make a fine wedding dress as it was. That dark blue looked grand on Zack, but a vest and a tie would be nice additions for a wedding …
Conversation fell into a lull as they dug into the feast. After the ladies had finished cleaning up, Debbie searched for Zack and spotted him inside the garden room he’d made for her. She untied her apron. “Let’s join the men. I have a particular interest in that spot.”
Alanna looked at her with questions in her eyes, but Debbie didn’t explain. Instead, she sauntered in Zack’s direction, lifting her dress high enough to show a glimpse of her ankle, her hips swaying as softly as dandelions gone to seed.
Zack and Sidney stopped talking to watch her approach. Debbie held back a grin. Men were such predictable creatures. Her sisters had schooled her in how to catch their interest. Apparently their suggestions worked as well on the Kansas prairie as they did back in Maine.
Before Debbie had taken two steps, she drew Zack’s attention as if she were a snake, mesmerizing its prey. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. When Alanna joined her, the two of them prettier than any flowers in God’s creation, both men were lost. Zack crossed his arms over his chest and left them there, maintaining his resolve to reach his goal before he gave in to Debbie.
Alanna spoke first. “What’s going on in here? Why don’t you have a roof?”
The yard went silent, and Zack feared his secret plans would become the latest gossip around town. He looked to Debbie in a silent plea, but her face held no expression.
Support came from the most unlikely place—Charles. “He hasn’t even told me why there’s no roof. But I understand it has something to do with my daughter.”
“Then I’m even more curious.” Alanna moved forward. He had to move before she ran into him. She stepped away from the threshold, Debbie at her heels.
Alanna walked the perimeter, studying the misshaped squares of sod. “You’re not building a room over here. No floor, no roof.”
Debbie headed to the wheelbarrow in the corner. She peeked inside the burlap sack Zack had hidden in it.
He counted: one, two three—she smiled. Zack took a breath.
“No, he’s not adding to the soddy. He’s planting a flower garden.” She crossed the space between them and stopped, only a few inches separating them. “For me.” She leaned closer and whispered, “But when have you been working on it?”
“My secret,” he whispered. There hadn’t been enough time. He felt guilty for not finishing it, for not yet fulfilling his promise to her. “I hoped to have it planted by now, at the same time as the crops, but …”
“He’s been working hard enough for both of us,” Charles said. He didn’t mention his own illness, and Zack didn’t blame him. Who wanted to reveal his weakness?
Sidney grabbed the nearest hoe. “Then let’s get the job done. We can get this planted this afternoon, if we all help out.” He winked. “Anything to help a fellow mail-order groom, after all.”
Zack had never seen a dinner party turn into a work party so quickly, women included. Debbie, Sidney, and Alanna grabbed the tools standing in the corner and worked on turning over the sod. Zack’s heart turned in admiration as he watched his Debbie kneel, dirt scattering across her skirt and up the bright yellow sleeves of her blouse.
Today she looked like a flower herself, a green stem pushing up from the ground with yellow leaves and flowers, a full-grown tree, with the sunshine of her hair radiating warmth in every direction.
If he didn’t stop staring at Debbie, he wouldn’t get any work done. He turned his back on her.
Hardly any time passed before Charles clapped him on his back. “What do you think? Are we ready to furrow the rows?”
Debbie ran to Zack’s side. Dirt clung to her hands and smudged her face, but her smile rewarded him in full. “I think it’s ready. Don’t you?”
Zack was no more an expert than he had been when he arrived in Turtle Springs. This didn’t look like the field where they’d planted the crops. It looked better, and that was good news for the small plants. “Let’s do it.”
The Barkers and the Terrys took the rakes and hoes and worked on creating their first row. Zack, who’d partnered with Debbie, took her by the band. “Come with me.” He tugged her away from the garden plot.
She turned around, confused, but he smiled and pulled her toward the corner where he’d left the burlap sack. “This is a job only you can do. The mercantile owner has promised me all of these will grow well in the soil here, but I want you to choose which varieties.” He dug out a sample of the packets he’d purchased during their last trip to town.
Her smile faded a smidgeon. “I brought seeds with me from Maine.”
He had anticipated that. “I know you did, but—this year’s garden is an experiment. I don’t want you to waste those precious seeds on your first attempt. Next year we can try planting all the lilacs and roses you want.”
“Next year? Will there be a next year for us, Zack?” Her soft voice, the uncertainty it carried, broke his heart.
When she looked at him like that, the whole expanse of the sky swimming in her blue eyes, his heart jumped into his throat. He swallowed before he tried to speak. “God willing, I sure hope so, Debbie.”
She grinned and twirled about. “All right then. Let me see what seeds they recommended. I want to use them all.” She studied them seriously, separating them into four piles.
“Let’s start with these.” She handed him the first pile, which included flowers like Missouri goldenrod and Maximilian’s sunflower. “These are supposed to be yellow, and that’s my favorite color.” She tapped her mouth and picked out three more. “With some purple thistle and red verbena and white aster for variety. Let’s show them what we’ve chosen.”
Charles bumped into Zack’s arm. “What are you two up to while the rest of us are hard at work?”
“Choosing the seeds.” Debbie waved them over her head. “These seeds are Zack’s love letters to me. So treat them carefully, because I want to read them, all summer long.”
Titters ran across the group, but Alanna led in clapping. “Then let’s get started.”
Zack stood still for a moment, face burning with heat. If Debbie called them love letters, then she must like them. His heart singing, he rushed forward to finish the afternoon’s work.
Debbie sat on a stool by the door, directing where each group of seeds should be planted. The rows seemed too close together, but their helpers probably had more experience than he did. Was planting them so close to the soddy a mistake? While they planted the seeds, all the things that could go wrong raced through his mind. What good would his “love letters” do if they couldn’t be seen?
He looked up at heaven. Lord, please let some of these flowers bloom. Especially the yellow ones. And maybe some red, too, since that’s my favorite.
Before sunset, every last seed was in the earth.
“One final step.” Sidney raised his eyebrows at Zack, as if asking permission.
“Go ahead.” He grinned.
Sidney reached up for the highest block of sod. “Let’s tear down the walls so the sunshine can reach these plants.”
“Leave the first layer.” A smile hadn’t left her face. “Maybe it
will help discourage little critters from chewing on the plants.”
With that, they tore down the walls, adding to the stacks of sod Zack had already had accumulated at the edge of the clearing.
They said a prayer, dedicating both the fields and the garden to the Lord and asking for His blessing. Full of satisfaction and goodwill, their neighbors left, and Zack took Debbie’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. I love you. The words stuck in his throat. It was too soon.
Hopefully the flowers would say it for him.
Chapter 11
Oh what a glorious Saturday morning, this last day of June. After she finished her chores, Debbie went outside for a few minutes in the sunshine. Her first stop, the garden. She visited it the first and last thing each day, waiting and hoping for the plants to push through the ground.
Papa reported on the corn each day, while they continued to weed the fields and prepare new ground. She’d never seen anything more beautiful than the first green shoots which broke through the day before yesterday. Now a dozen or more shoots had sprouted down every row. She couldn’t wait to the see the riot of color.
God created life to go on. He put all the potential of another stalk of corn, another cedar tree, another daffodil, in a seed. Like the mustard seed in the Bible. God took from a man and a woman, in ways she didn’t quite understand, to create a new human being.
Out of the death caused by the war, whether in Maine or in Kansas, life would go on. And that was beautiful. God willing, Debbie’s new life would include Zack. Her stomach tumbled in excitement at the prospect.
He’d worked so hard. He’d made his feelings clear, but he hadn’t said anything to her about a proper courtship. Maybe he’d talked with Papa. Maybe they had some sort of agreement. But why hadn’t he said anything more to her?
Zack’s hand landed on her shoulder. “They should bloom soon. In a week, two at the most.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Today might make up his mind. More than shopping took them to town. One of the mail-order grooms was marrying his bride, Emma Mason and Liam Logan. She was happy for the couple, but it made her long for her own possible marriage even more.
Determined not to bemoan Zack’s lack of courtship, Debbie wondered about the bride’s attire. Would she wear a special wedding dress? It was unlikely.
Of all her sisters, Debbie had always been the most interested in fashion. They teased her, saying she belonged in New York, if she wanted to dress like Lady Godey and not like a proper Maine Yankee.
Even less like a prairie homesteader. She tied on her prairie bonnet for practical purposes. Zack liked the way the sun struck her hair, but she had given in to the necessity of protecting her face. Sunburns were painful.
Like the blisters on Zack’s hands? They had hardened into callouses over time, and all the fieldwork had led to strongly muscled arms. Oh, he was a handsome man.
And he deserved to see her at her best. That decided for her—no bonnet. If her skin did burn, she would rub ointment on it later.
Before long the four of them had climbed on the wagon. Debbie tucked the tea towel she had stitched for the bride into her bag. She understood why Emma and Liam had married quickly; a widow and a widower with children, they had good reason to start their lives together as soon as possible.
After all, some mail-order brides married as soon as they met their prospective grooms. Maybe that was better than an ongoing delay that raised more questions than answers.
Debbie shook her head. The ladies of Turtle Springs had done the mail-order process in a sensible manner, and giving women some of the control appealed to her. If she decided to, she could ask Zack to leave. But how she wanted him to stay. She woke up in the mornings and checked for his well-worn Bible and his service revolver. When they were by his bedroll, she knew he hadn’t left.
The wagon rolled over a bump, and she grabbed Zack’s arm. He put his arm around her shoulder. When he held her close, she felt like they could run into the biggest rock in all of the Flint Hills and it couldn’t make her fall out. She relaxed in the shelter of his embrace.
His eyes sought hers, tender and strong at the same time, and she melted into a puddle of hot spring water. When she was in that shape, she couldn’t hold two thoughts together. Instead she admired him. Today he was wearing a green shirt that suited him as well as the dark blue she liked so much. Even if he wore something the color of swamp water, she’d still think he was handsome.
As they entered the church, she told herself they looked like a couple. People watched the mail-order pairs eagerly. They gaged the way he escorted her down the aisle, how he saw to her every need at the reception.
They clearly passed the test of public opinion. So why didn’t he ever say anything about it?
“He that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly.” Debbie had memorized the verse from Proverbs to help her stay patient, but it just made her mad. Sure, it was best to wait for God’s timing.
She just hoped Zack didn’t take as long to make up his mind as it took Noah to build the ark.
Zack had plenty of experience sitting still. Four years in the army involved a lot of marching and fighting, mixed with days of boredom. He’d passed those hours fighting sleep, to keep watch and stay alert.
All those years of practice did him no good today. He couldn’t stay still. Every rustle made him want to look to see if another auditioning couple was enjoying an intimate moment. If they looked happy, he felt jealous. He could only blame himself. Could he hurry things along by going to a larger town or the county seat? Probably not. He expected his order to arrive shortly. Waiting was just too hard.
Zack ached while he watched Emma and Liam exchange vows. He wanted to study Debbie’s face, to picture her lips repeating those words.
But if he did, he’d give in to the temptation to propose then and there. And it wasn’t the right time. Not quite yet. He needed a fortnight to prepare. A month at most. He clamped his teeth together and feared she could hear them grinding on each other.
From the periphery of his vision, he saw her face in profile, focused on the tableau in front of them. People said women dreamed of their wedding day all their lives. How much more so for Debbie, who’d watched two older sisters get married. She probably had her wedding dress planned down to the buttons on her sleeves, the most beautiful bride in the world.
He studied Charles and Kathleen. Charles would like to see the crops in before he had to worry about a wedding. Zack suspected a part of Charles wanted to postpone the wedding of his youngest daughter as long as possible.
But Zack wasn’t Jacob, working for the right to marry his daughter. Kathleen had let slip Debbie’s twenty-fifth birthday was coming up in July. If all was right in God’s world, the first flowers would have bloomed.
And Zack knew just what he’d do to celebrate her birthday. The years might make Debbie feel uncomfortable, but as far he was concerned, her quarter century was a perfect match to his own three decades. Since the war, he’d felt as old as his grandfather. Debbie helped him feel young again.
After they left the reception, he went with the Barkers to the mercantile. He asked Kathleen to keep Debbie occupied while he attended to business. When everything came together in a few weeks, Debbie couldn’t say no. He’d start with something as beautiful and as strong as she was.
Now to engage the clerk who was helping him without Debbie’s noticing. Half the couples from the audition milled through the store’s displays, and Debbie talked with each one. Once she was in deep discussion with Alanna, Zack excused himself.
Debbie’s dazzling smiled stung him with a moment of guilt. Ever since he’d seen her absolute delight with the French soap, he’d purchased some small thing for her every week. Today he had bigger projects to undertake.
Kathleen waved to him, and Zack slipped into the storeroom, where he found the man who ordered supplies for the mercantile. He’d gone to him for help when he learned the town didn’t have a lumberyard.
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br /> “Mr. Gage. I was hoping to see you today. The wood you ordered came in.”
Zack ran his hand over the black mahogany. He couldn’t wait to get started.
“What do you plan on making with that wood?” The clerk asked, as Zack paid him.
Zack smiled mysteriously and unrolled his sketch. “We don’t have much room in the soddy, so I figure this is a good size. I plan to fill it with mementos of our memories.”
“Your lady will like it.” He nodded. “How are things working out between the two of you?”
Why did everyone in Turtle Springs feel they needed to know his personal business? “Well, I hope.” Zack rewrapped the paper around the wood. “She deserves so much, and I have so little to offer.” He tucked the package under his arm. “Except myself, which, God willing, will be enough.”
“She did invite you—well, all the mail-order groom candidates—here. Such an upside-down way to do things. I bet your character is the most important thing. You’ll be fine. We’re rooting for all of you.”
“I’d better get on to my next order of business.” Zack took the back exit, set the wood in the wagon, and headed down Main Street. He prayed, pleaded, with God the parcel he wanted would be available. If farming wasn’t profitable in the Flint Hills, Zack had some other ideas—and he wanted it in his hand before he proposed.
Half an hour later, with storm clouds gathering overhead, he ran to the mercantile, grinning from ear to ear.
Debbie met him at the door. “Where have you been? Papa’s after us to get home before the rain breaks.”
Zack entered the store just as Charles joined Debbie outside. He called over his shoulder. “I need another minute. I’ll be right out.” He went straight to the clerk. “Do you have it?”
“Will this work?” The young lady held up a slim yellow ribbon, about ten inches long.
Zack breathed in deeply. “That’s it. Thank you.” He slipped it in his pocket and headed for the door. “What are you all waiting for?” He grinned at Debbie.
Seven Brides for Seven Mail-Order Husbands Romance Collection Page 30
