The Mistaken Mail Order Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  She gasped, looked over at Liz who didn’t seem to know what to think of the whole thing, and shook her head. “If Caroline did a better job of explaining things, I wouldn’t have misunderstood them.”

  Misunderstood them? He didn’t believe for one second she misunderstood them at all. “Ma’am, you heard what you wanted to hear, and what you heard wasn’t the truth.”

  Then, without wasting any more time arguing with her, he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder.

  “Oh dear,” Liz murmured, putting her hand to her cheek.

  Ignoring Ida’s protests, Eric headed right for the jailhouse. He didn’t bother looking to the right or to the left the entire way there. Yes, people saw him. And yes, most of them stopped to stare. A couple even asked what was going on, but he didn’t answer them. If they wouldn’t tell him about the gossip circulating through town about his wife, what made them think he was going to tell them what he was doing?

  Ida cried out for someone to rescue her, saying things like, “I can’t go to jail! I got children to take care of!” and “I’m a woman. I’m too tender for the horrors of the jail.”

  Horrors, indeed! There were only two cells in the entire place, and both were vacant at the moment. Her biggest worry was going to be boredom. There was only a cot to sleep on. It didn’t have anything to occupy one’s time. No games. No books. Nothing but endless silence so she could sit and contemplate why she was there.

  When he dumped her on the cot, she tried to escape, but he got to the cell door before she did and locked her in. “The tongue is a powerful weapon,” he told her. “It’d do you well to lock it up so I don’t have to lock you in here in the future. Next time, you’ll be here for a week. After that, you don’t want to know what I’m going to do.”

  He stared at her, waiting to see if she’d argue with him now, but to his satisfaction, she plumped down on the cot. Good. Maybe next time she’d think twice before going around and spreading her version of the truth to everyone in town.

  Without a word, he left her to sit and think about how she might avoid spending another night in jail.

  ***

  “He what?” Phoebe asked the next day, her eyes wide.

  Caroline added more flour to the bowl and glanced at her new friend, who was teaching her how to make pancakes. “I didn’t think Eric would make her spend the night in jail. I had no idea what he was planning when he left our cabin. I think he came up with the idea when he got to her home, but I’m not sure.”

  Phoebe laughed and handed Caroline the spoon. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  Caroline’s face warmed. “Because it’s not my place. I’m not to inquire after a gentleman’s business.”

  “Hmm… That’s where you and I differ. I have no trouble asking anything about what Abe’s doing.”

  “And he doesn’t mind?”

  “No. I needed to learn how to live out here in this wilderness. Back in Cincinnati, all I had to do was go to the general store to get what I needed. Out here, Abe grows his own fruits and vegetables, and he hunts his own meat. I wanted to help him. God forbid anything should ever happen to him, but I have to know how to provide for me and my mother.”

  Caroline thought over her words as she stirred the ingredients in her bowl. “I see the wisdom in why you did it. My situation is different. If something happens to Eric, I won’t take over his job of being a sheriff.”

  “You’re right. Your situation is different from mine, but I don’t think Eric would mind telling you what he does and why he does it. Especially since he cares for you.”

  Caroline stopped stirring the batter and looked up at Phoebe. “You think so?”

  Phoebe smiled. “It’s obvious. Anyone can see it.”

  Her heart warmed in pleasure. It was one thing to hear him say it, but it was much better hearing it from another person. “He’s a good man. I care for him, too.”

  “What was Charles Dunwick like?”

  “I didn’t get a lot of information from the missive he sent, but he seemed like a nice gentleman. He said it didn’t bother him that I didn’t know how to keep a home like other ladies. Take you for example. You’re familiar with cooking, cleaning, and sewing.”

  “I grew up learning those things.”

  Caroline nodded and resumed her stirring. “I’m sure most ladies did, too. But I learned how to host dinner parties and balls, how to sit up straight, and how to conduct myself in all situations. None of those traits are useful as a wife.”

  “Not here,” Phoebe allowed. “But I’m sure those were valued things for a wife back where you grew up.”

  “They were. A lady had no hopes of securing a husband without them. Appearances were everything. Out here, it’s more about practicality. I was so relieved Charles was understanding about my lack of homemaking skills that I agreed to marry him.”

  Phoebe put her hand on her arm.

  Surprised, Caroline stopped stirring again and glanced her way.

  “You are perfect for Eric. I don’t think it was a mistake you got off the stagecoach to marry him, though I know it looks like it was.”

  “Eric says it was fate we ended up together.”

  “I think he’s right.”

  Caroline was beginning to think it, too, though she was still too shy to admit it.

  “Alright,” Phoebe said as she went over to the skillet. “Now that the batter is ready, let’s make some pancakes.”

  ***

  “I want to ride,” Caleb told Eric and Abe.

  “Not this time,” Abe told him, his tone pleasant but firm. “You need to get comfortable with the horse before you can ride him.”

  Though Eric agreed with Abe, he couldn’t help but sympathize with the boy. Caleb’s first lesson was to lead the steed around the fenced area with a rope. It was hardly an exciting activity.

  “What if one of us gets on the horse and lets him ride with us?” Eric whispered to Abe as Caleb led the horse away from them. At least then, Caleb would have a chance to ride the horse, even if he wasn’t doing it himself.

  “I see no harm in that,” Abe replied. “Caleb,” he called out as he walked over to the boy.

  Caleb stopped and turned toward Abe. Eric couldn’t hear what Abe was telling him, but he gestured to the horse and then pointed between him and Eric. Caleb glanced at Eric and then Abe. Then he pointed to Eric.

  Abe nodded and went over to Eric. “He wants to ride with you.”

  “Me?” Eric asked, not hiding his surprise. He thought for sure, if given the choice, Caleb would feel more comfortable riding with Abe since Abe had more in common with him.

  “Yes, you.”

  Detecting the chuckle in Abe’s voice, he shot him an amused look before he went to grab the saddle. When he came over to them, he glanced at Caleb. “Are you sure you want to ride with me?”

  Caleb indicated he did.

  Abe took the saddle from him and shook his head in exasperation, though a slight smile betrayed his humor. “You didn’t take my word for it? I don’t know whether I should be offended or not.”

  “I just wanted to make sure,” Eric told him.

  Eric glanced at Caleb to make sure the boy really wanted him. He’d been so sure Caleb would rather take his first ride with Abe.

  Abe put the saddle on the horse, and as he passed Eric, he whispered, “Caleb likes having you for a father. Don’t fight it.” Then he gave Eric a pat on the back and stepped away from him. “The saddle’s secure. Go on and get up there. Then we’ll get Caleb up.”

  Eric put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle. “One day,” he said, “you’ll do this without even thinking about it, but it’ll take time to master the move.” He held his hand out to Caleb. “Put your foot in the stirrup, and I’ll help you up.”

  Caleb reached out and took his hand. Eric waited until his foot was in the stirrup before pulling him up. Caleb’s foot slipped from the stirrup, so Eric put his free hand under his arm and pulled him o
nto his lap.

  “You alright?” he asked Caleb.

  Caleb laughed. “That was fun.”

  Surprised Caleb laughed, Eric asked, “You liked almost falling?”

  “I didn’t fall. You caught me,” Caleb replied.

  Well, when he looked at it like that, Caleb was right. With a grin, he put his arm around Caleb’s stomach. “I’ll always catch you,” he told him.

  “If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s your father,” Abe told Caleb.

  Up to now, Eric hadn’t thought of Caleb as his son, but he supposed when he married Caroline and agreed to take care of Caleb, he did assume the role as his father. So Abe was right. And if Caroline was right—if Caleb had a special gift for being able to tell which people were good and which were bad—then Caleb had given him a high compliment in wanting to ride with him. Touched, Eric encouraged the horse forward, careful to hold Caleb so he’d feel safe during the ride.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I ought to tell the judge you arrested me,” Ida said late that afternoon when Eric unlocked her cell.

  “Go ahead. He’s due back next month. Of course,” he added as he opened the door for her, “if I catch you spreading lies about anyone in the meantime, you’ll be here for a week. I knew you gossiped, but I didn’t realize you went out of your way to hurt people’s reputations.”

  Ida opened her mouth, as if to argue with him, but Mike came around Eric and took her by the arm. “The Sheriff’s right. You’ve been doing this nonsense long enough. It’s not good for anyone. From now on, if you can’t say anything nice, you won’t say anything at all. Is that clear?”

  Eric blinked. He couldn’t recall a time when Mike had ever put his foot down with his wife before, and apparently, Ida was just as shocked since she didn’t protest.

  Mike looked at Eric. “I assure you, she’ll stop. Come along, Ida. You won’t be leaving me with the children alone all night ever again.”

  Well, if Eric had to make Mike uncomfortable for a night in order to get Ida to behave, then so be it. He closed the cell door as Mike led Ida out of the jailhouse. With any luck, in time, people would forget all Ida had said about Caroline.

  He did some light paperwork and was just about done when Lydia Richie came into the jailhouse. She slammed the door, clasped her dark blue skirt in her hands, and marched over to him.

  “You have another complaint, Mrs. Richie?” Eric asked.

  Lydia nodded. “I want you to arrest my husband.”

  Of all the things she could complain about, this was the last one he expected. Lydia had made complaints about almost everything from Palmer’s chicken coming onto her property to the Smiths’ two-year-old child who’d been having a temper tantrum in the general store. Whatever inconvenienced Lydia, she made sure he knew about it.

  Knowing he was going to regret it, he asked, “What is Carl doing?”

  “He’s demanding I go to bed with him.”

  He almost laughed at the absurdity of such a thing. “You’re his wife. Being in bed with him is part of the marital arrangement.”

  “I don’t see why I should be forced to suffer just because he wants to get a child to inherit that stupid land he wants.”

  Eric frowned. “Forced to suffer. Is he rough with you in bed?”

  “No, he’s not rough. He’s lousy. He thinks he’s good at it, but he’s not. I don’t feel like staring up at the ceiling and wondering when it’ll be over.”

  Eric stared at her for a long moment, not believing what he’d just heard. No man, regardless of whether he really was a satisfactory lover or not, wanted his wife to claim he lacked proper lovemaking skills. He, for one, would be horrified if Caroline ever did such a thing.

  “Look,” Lydia said, glaring at him, “you either lock him up or you go out to my place and demand he stop trying to touch me.”

  “Mrs. Richie,” he began, choosing to emphasize the Mrs. part of her name, “I just put Mrs. Conner in jail for the night for spreading falsehoods about someone. I don’t care whether you’re happy with your husband’s efforts in bed or not. If I hear that you’re telling anyone in this town what you just told me, I’ll be putting you in jail.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Yes, I would. Now keep private things private.”

  She gritted her teeth for a moment then let out a low grunt. “I should have expected that response from you. You’re a man, and you men all stick together. Every last one of you thinks he’s great in bed, but only a few manage it correctly. Let’s hope your wife thinks you’re one of them. As for me, I will not spend one more dreadful night with the man my father forced me to marry. And you better not try to make me. I don’t care if it’s my duty or not. I won’t do it.” She paused then added, “Don’t you tell him I’m in town, either. If he tries to talk to me, I just might kill him.”

  She spun on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her.

  Eric grimaced. Well, that went as well as could be expected, given it was Lydia he was dealing with.

  He put his paperwork away and then headed home. Thank goodness Caroline was nothing like her. While Carl had been known to give Abe grief, there were times when Eric couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Carl hadn’t wanted the marriage any more than Lydia did, and it showed. The two had never been happy together.

  Whether Abe realized it or not, Carl had done Abe a favor without meaning to. Yes, Carl’s motives weren’t the best, but there was no doubt Phoebe and Abe made a good couple. Eric couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen Abe happy, but he was definitely happy with her. What a contrast to Carl and Lydia. Two couples couldn’t be more different. And that just went to show when someone did something for their selfish gain, the other person could be blessed for it.

  With nothing else to do, he locked up the jail and went home. He had expected to help Caroline make supper, but when he opened the door, he saw Lois helping Caroline make the meal.

  Caroline glanced over at him and smiled. “Lois offered to teach me how to make fried chicken.”

  Eric closed the door and put his hat on the hook. “That’s awfully nice of you, Lois.”

  “Nice has nothing to do with it,” Lois said. “You know I had that old chicken to get rid of, and I can’t eat the whole thing by myself. Caroline’s doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.”

  He noticed the way Lois had worded things and thought it was so much like her. Lois was a rare person. No doubt she heard the rumors Ida had been spreading and decided to come over to help under the guise of asking Caroline to do her a favor.

  “I just hope it turns out well,” Caroline said as she placed a plate of the chicken on the center of the table. “Lois told me how to prepare it, but I did the actual work on it.”

  “I told you my hands aren’t as good as they used to be,” Lois told her. “That’s yet another reason why you’re helping me by cooking it.”

  As sweet as it was for Lois to tell the fib with the intent of making Caroline feel good about herself, Eric couldn’t help but tease the old woman. “If memory serves, you made a quilt the other day. Doesn’t holding a needle take its toll on those hands?”

  Lois met his gaze head on. “I’ll have you know that’s why my hands aren’t doing so well today.”

  He couldn’t be sure if that was the truth or not, but either way, her heart was in the right place, something he admired her for. “Alright. That excuse sounds as good as anything I could have come up with.”

  “Sheriff,” Lois said, “you save that suspicious nature of yours for those who need it. I’m a poor, old widow who happened to have a chicken. You can’t fault me for wanting to eat it.”

  “You make a good point,” he replied, his lips curling up into a smile.

  Recalling Caleb, he glanced around the cabin and saw that he was sitting on the hardwood floor writing the letter A on a small chalkboard.

  “I thought I’d teach him how to read and write,” Caroline spoke up. “Lo
is told me other children his age have already started learning how to read and write, and I can teach him how to do those things since I know how to do them.”

  “Now you know how to make fried chicken and potato salad,” Lois added. “The Sheriff likes my potato salad recipe. My mother brought it with her when she left Germany.”

  “It is a good recipe,” Eric admitted. “So Lois had you make that, too?” he asked Caroline.

  “You make it sound like I was forcing your wife to do these things. I’ll have you know, she offered to do it. Cutting up potatoes isn’t easy on the hands, you know,” Lois protested, though he caught a slight smile which betrayed her indignation.

  “Lois has been very kind in teaching me how to make tonight’s dinner,” Caroline intervened.

  Eric smiled at Lois. “Well, we like having you over.” He glanced at Caroline. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Just sit and make yourself comfortable,” Caroline said. “You’ve had a busy day.”

  So had she. She was the one who made the pancakes at Phoebe’s that morning. But by the excited expression on her face, he gathered she was having a good time with Lois. After the whole thing with Ida, it was nice Lois had stepped in to lend her support.

  He went over to Caleb, who seemed to be concentrating on getting the letter A written properly. “I remember when I learned how to write,” he told the boy as he sat next to him. “It took me a couple years before anyone could read my handwriting.” Caleb looked up at him, and, recalling their horse ride, Eric grinned. “I thought learning to ride a horse was easier.”

  As he hoped, Caleb returned his smile before returning his attention back to the slate.

  Eric watched him, thinking the boy was doing his best. He wasn’t haphazardly writing down the letter A. He was being meticulous about it. Eric had a hunch the boy was highly intelligent. He was quiet and took time to think things through before speaking, which might lead some to assume he wasn’t very smart. But anyone who watched him could tell he was definitely intelligent.