Winning the Mail-Order Bride

by Lauri Robinson

  If not more. Rhett and Wyatt were sound asleep. He’d checked on them twice.

  Fiona was probably asleep too. He’d let her sleep if she was. He just wanted to see her one more time before he crawled into bed. But he didn’t dare sneak downstairs until he knew Joyce was asleep in the parlor.

  He hadn’t thought about sneaking around after dark for years and years. Back then it usually had been to snatch something to munch on out of his mother’s kitchen.

  Pushing off the bed, he walked to the window. The big yellow moon filling the night sky hadn’t moved much since the last time he’d looked out, and he smiled at his own impatience.

  And his happiness. He almost couldn’t believe Fiona would soon be his wife. He could look far and wide and not find a finer woman anywhere. Or a prettier one. The way her eyes changed colors amazed him. They could be gray one minute and hold an entire rainbow of colors the next. He’s seen that this evening when she’d agreed to marry him.

  That was what he wanted to talk to her about, if she was still awake. He needed to tell her about Hannah Olsen. Fiona already had enough on her mind, having to admit to Josiah that she wouldn’t be marrying him, yet not telling her about Hannah would be wrong. He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t being completely honest with her.

  He’d reassure Fiona that as soon as Hannah arrived, he’d apologize and tell her that he couldn’t marry her, and that he’d help her find someone else more suitable. Or pay for her passage back home or somewhere else. Whatever she wanted. Hannah might have changed her mind too. That was always a possibility. Which could be reason enough to wait before talking to Fiona about it, he pondered. There was no sense bringing up something that might never happen.

  There was no sense standing here either.

  Brett made his way down the hall and the staircase. Joyce was stretched out on the couch in the parlor. He couldn’t tell if she was sleeping or not and decided he didn’t care.

  A few steps later, the moonlight shining in the bedroom revealed Fiona definitely wasn’t sleeping.

  “Not tired?” he asked while shutting the door behind him.

  She shrugged. “I haven’t done anything to make me tired.”

  He picked up the bottle Dr. Graham had left with Martha yesterday off the top of the dresser.

  “I don’t want any more of that,” she said.

  “Don’t blame you.” He put the bottle down again. “But it does help with the pain.”

  “There isn’t a lot of pain anymore. It’s just uncomfortable because it’s still so swollen.”

  “Anything I can get for you to help with that?”

  “No, but thank you for offering. Joyce put a cool cloth on it earlier, so it’s not so bad right now. What are you doing still up?”

  He sat in the chair next to her bed. “Not tired either.”

  “To hear Rhett and Wyatt talk, you should be as tired as them.”

  “They were asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows,” he said.

  “I can believe that.”

  The softness of her voice, whispering with her in the dark like this, made him smile.

  “It was kind of Maggie to offer to take them out to see her sister,” she said. “To see the baby raccoons. They’re very excited at the prospect.”

  “They’ll enjoy it,” he agreed. “And you have nothing to worry about. Steve Putnam owns the Circle P. He’s a good man. So is Jackson. They’ll all keep a close eye on Wyatt and Rhett.”

  “I have no reason to believe otherwise,” she said. “The entire town of Oak Grove is full of good people.”

  A tinge of guilt splattered his insides, and Brett sighed. “I have something to tell you, Fiona. It’s nothing bad, just something I think you should know.”

  She shifted, pushed herself up in the bed. “Did the boys do something?”

  “No, the boys haven’t done anything.”

  “Then what is it?” she asked.

  “You know I’ve been looking for a bride for a while, that I contributed to the Betterment Committee?”

  “Yes.”

  This was more uncomfortable than he’d thought it would be. He stood and walked to the window. “Well, when all of those brides chose others and I had doubts whether Josiah’s plan would bring any more to town, I sent a telegram back home and ordered one for myself.”

  “A bride?”

  He turned around. The muted darkness obscured the expression on her face, but he could tell she was looking at him. “Yes. She could be arriving any day. Or she might have changed her mind—I can’t say for sure.”

  “What do you mean? Didn’t you exchange letters?”

  “No, I wired my mother and asked her to find someone. She wired back saying I should expect someone to arrive this week.” He crossed the room and sat down in the chair again. “It doesn’t change anything between me and you. I’m going to tell her I can’t marry her. That I’m marrying you instead.”

  * * *

  Fiona’s heart was sinking faster than a rock tossed in a pond. Her happiness had been short-lived, yet the loss was one of the greatest she’d ever known.

  “I’ll tell her as soon as she arrives, and I’ll help her find a suitable husband or pay her way back home or—”

  Shaking her head, Fiona had to force herself to say, “You can’t do that.”

  “I know it doesn’t sound very nice,” he said, taking a hold of her hand. “But I’ve thought about it. Long and hard. I can’t marry her.”

  Though it hurt, Fiona had to point out the facts. “She’s coming all the way out here expecting to marry you.”

  “I’ll help her find someone else. Someone who will want to marry her, and whom she’ll want to marry. I promise.”

  Fiona’s throat burned. Compared to him, the other men in town didn’t hold a candle, and wouldn’t to this other woman either.

  “When Mary McCary arrived, she didn’t plan on marrying Steve,” Brett said, “but that’s who she married. Same with Maggie, who married Jackson. Neither Steve nor Jackson had donated to the Betterment Committee.”

  She wanted to pull her hand out of his, but it was as if her muscles wouldn’t work. “That doesn’t matter. She’s coming here intending to marry you—”

  “You came here to marry Josiah.”

  “That’s differ—” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It really wasn’t different. If he was wrong, so was she.

  “I can’t marry someone else, Fiona,” he whispered fervently. “Not when I love you.”

  Her insides buckled. She loved him too. Had already admitted that to herself. It was amazing how fast it had happened. Unbelievably fast. She figured it was because he was exactly what she’d dreamed would happen. That she’d find a man she could love. One Rhett and Wyatt could love too. She’d let herself believe she deserved that. Deserved to be happy.

  “I wasn’t going to tell you,” he said. “Thought I’d just wait and see if she even showed up, but in case she does, I wanted you to know about it. Wanted you to know that I will always be honest with you.”

  Fiona wanted to tell him she wished he hadn’t said anything. Then she could go on believing in her short-lived happiness. Go on believing that for once in her life things were happening just as they were supposed to. Maybe they were. Maybe she wasn’t ever supposed to be happy. Truly happy.

  “No one else knows,” he said. “Other than Teddy White.”

  Fiona bit her lips together, wishing she could come up with something to say. The only thoughts racing around in her head were ones she didn’t want to say. Ones she didn’t want to hear or believe. She was comparing Brett with Josiah again. Despite all that had happened, Josiah had fulfilled his promise. He’d offered to marry her and was fully prepared to do just that.

  She couldn’t help bu
t think about this other bride, of her hopes and dreams and how devastating it would be to arrive only to be told the man who’d invited her to Oak Grove was marrying someone else.

  Fiona pulled her hand out of Brett’s and scooted down in the bed. “I’m tired. I need to rest.”

  It was a lie. She might never rest again. Her entire being felt broken. Right down to her soul. She couldn’t knowingly crush someone else’s dream, not while realizing exactly what that felt like.

  His silence filled the room for several long moments before he whispered, “All right.”

  The warmth and softness of his lips touching her forehead was almost her undoing. Willing every muscle to remain still, Fiona held her breath and squeezed her eyelids together more tightly to combat the tears.

  “Good night,” he murmured.

  She didn’t trust her voice to work. Once the door was shut, she let out a shaking breath and then let the tears fall.

  When the sun finally rose, Fiona wondered if that had been the longest night of her life. She’d contemplated many things while lying there, staring into the darkness. Her life. Her sons. Brett. Josiah.

  Staying up all night hadn’t done any good. None whatsoever. Neither was trying to convince herself that she could still marry Brett. It was all her fault. Hungry or not, she should never have agreed to have supper with him that first night.

  The anger inside her grew so ugly and consuming she couldn’t stay in the bed any longer. She needed a way to release it.

  Tossing aside the covers, she flipped her legs over the edge of the bed, and not really caring how badly it might hurt, she stood. The first step sent a river of pain all the way to her hip, but she ignored it—the best she could—and took another. By the time she arrived at the window, the throbbing was so intense, she stuck her head out the opening and sucked in air, praying for a way to ease the pain.

  “What are you doing out of bed?”

  “I can’t lie around any longer,” Fiona growled against the pain to answer Joyce’s question.

  The woman grasped her arm. “But your leg’s still too swollen and walking will only make it worse.”

  “I can’t—” She had to suck in more air to continue. “I just can’t.”

  As sweet and kind as all the others, Joyce said, “I know it’s hard, but it’ll be harder if you don’t let that leg heal properly.”

  Fiona refused to move, even turning to look at the other woman was beyond her.

  Joyce left her side, but only for a moment.

  “Here, the chair is right behind you,” Joyce said. “Let me help you sit down.”

  With few options, since her good leg was trembling as badly as the injured one, Fiona sat.

  “Stay right there,” Joyce instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Fiona leaned her head back and closed her eyes to block out some of the pain in her leg. What was in her heart might never ease. Which was all her own fault. She wouldn’t be hurting, wouldn’t be disappointed, if she’d used some common sense the past few days. Making a mistake was one thing, as was breaking a promise, but she wouldn’t shatter someone else’s dream. Couldn’t. That had happened to her too many times.

  “Here,” Joyce said as she arrived. “I have a stool and a pillow. Let’s prop that leg up on it and I’ll get a cool cloth. It’s hard to be laid up. No one likes it.”

  Fiona didn’t trust herself to speak.

  The understanding smile on the other woman’s face slowly dissolved. “Goodness, you look like you haven’t slept a wink. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  With renewed tears threatening to fall, Fiona just shook her head.

  “I’ll send Brett for Dr. Graham and—”

  Fiona grabbed Joyce’s arm. “No, I’ll—”

  “I’m already on my way.”

  Fiona covered her face with both hands at the sound of Brett’s voice.

  * * *

  Brett ran at full speed to Nelson Graham’s house. Why hadn’t he asked Fiona what was wrong last night? He’d assumed she’d grown quiet after he’d told her about Hannah because she was upset—the one thing he hadn’t wanted to happen. He hadn’t thought that her leg might be hurting. Might be full of infection.

  He was almost to the stoop when Nelson opened the door.

  “What’s wrong?” the doctor asked. “I saw you coming out my kitchen window.”

  “It’s Fiona,” Brett answered abruptly. “She’s hurting. Been up all night.”

  “I’ll get my bag,” Nelson said, already heading into his examining room.

  Moments later when they started toward his house, Brett wanted to fling Nelson over his shoulder and run as fast as he had earlier. The man was full of questions. None of which Brett could answer.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she tried walking and fell again.”

  “Again? When did she fall?”

  “Night before last. She tried getting out of bed without help.”

  “I declare, Brett, a sick woman is worse than a sick man. They just can’t stay down. No matter how much I insist.”

  “What’s happened?” Martha asked as she ran across the field. “Is it Fiona?”

  “Yes,” Brett answered.

  “Well, hurry,” Martha said, passing them both as she ran toward his house. “Hurry, I say.”

  Both he and Nelson picked up their speed and Joyce met all three of them at the door. While the others asked questions, Brett brushed past and hurried into the bedroom. Fiona was sitting in the chair and didn’t appear to be injured or hurting. Relief washed over him as he walked closer.

  “What happened? Did you fall again?”

  She shook her head.

  He knelt down beside her chair. “Then what happened?” he pressed, concerned. There were bags beneath her eyes and no color in her cheeks.

  “I just couldn’t lie there any longer,” she said, turning to look out the window. “There was no need to fetch the doctor. There’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  “Yes, there is,” he said.

  “I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I can’t take someone else’s husband.”

  Brett’s stomach fell. “I’m not—”

  “She believes you are.”

  “Brett,” Dr. Graham said from the doorway. “Wait out in the kitchen, please.”

  It went against his better judgment, but Brett did as Nelson requested. Partially. He walked through the kitchen and out the back door. What he’d seen on Fiona’s face gutted him. There was no shine in her eyes. In fact, she appeared to be as sad and dismal as when she’d first arrived in town.

  It was all his fault. He wasn’t any better than Josiah.

  Flustered and needing to release it, Brett headed over to feed his horses. It wasn’t long before Nelson found him there.

  “She’ll be fine,” Nelson said. “Once she stops worrying about others taking care of her.”

  “She’s not used to that,” Brett explained.

  Nelson nodded. “You doing all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Brett answered, although he knew he might never be fine again.

  Nelson laid a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t say I envy you, Brett. Going from being a bachelor to having a houseful overnight, but I do admire you.”

  “No reason to.”

  “Yes, there is, and I’m not the only one.” Taking a step, Nelson added, “I’ll be back around noon to check on her.”

  Brett nodded and walked around the side of his building. The house was too full for any time alone with Fiona, not that it would do any good. He’d seen her eyes.

  An hour or so later Maggie Miller stopped at the shop with Rhett and Wyatt in tow.

  “Brett, is it all right if Rhett and Wyatt go with Jackson and me to
see Mary today? Jackson needs to speak to Steve about a cabinet he’s building. Angus is riding with us.”

  “What did Fiona say?”

  “She’s sleeping,” Rhett said. “Can we go? We’ll be good.”

  Knowing they’d be well watched, Brett said, “I don’t see why not.”

  Rhett wrapped both hands around his leg. “Thanks, Brett. You’re the best.”

  As Brett patted the boy’s back, he told himself it wasn’t over yet. He’d find a way for them to be together. Fiona and him, and these two little boys. He’d make Fiona see that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She’d had a few close friends over the years, but Fiona had never known any quite as dedicated as the ones she’d acquired since arriving in Oak Grove. Especially Martha, who was pacing the room and fluttering her arms.

  The commotion that had awoken her earlier had been a heated discussion between Josiah and Martha. One that had ended with Josiah leaving. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “He said he needed to speak to you and I informed him you were sleeping. Which you still would be if he hadn’t been so loud.” Martha planted both hands on her hips. “He told me it’s my fault the town expects him to pay for the house next door. It seems Josiah drove around the township yesterday attempting to get people to sign a decree that he’d written, and no one else had approved, that states the town will give him that house just because he’s the mayor. When Otis told me that last night, I put my foot down. That’s not why the house was built. Half the people in Oak Grove made donations of money and supplies to build that house with the understanding that once it is sold, the profits will go to build another house, and so forth. Giving this first one to Josiah won’t benefit anyone but him.”

  “Why would he expect the house be given to him?” Fiona asked curiously.

  “I don’t know,” Martha said, “but I can tell you, he’s expected an awful lot since he became mayor, and the more he’s given, the more he wants.”

  The regret washing over Fiona was piling up so high, she soon wouldn’t be able to breathe. “It’s my fault. Josiah said he’d buy it and move his furniture in there before the wedding.” Fiona buried her face with both hands. “I’ve made such a mess. Such a mess for everyone. I should never have come here.”