Mail-Order Bride Switch

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Mail-Order Bride Switch Page 14

by Dorothy Clark


  Chapter Twelve

  Virginia slipped into her best dress, buttoned the pointed, waist-hugging bodice and straightened the scalloped edges on the sleeves and stand-up collar. It was a beautiful dress. The wool was so lightweight, the long, gathered top tier of the full skirt fell like cotton. She skimmed her gaze over the scalloped hems of the two tiers to make sure they were straight, then stood back and studied her reflection in the mirror. She’d lost a little weight due to all her hard work, and the dress fitted a little more loosely than the last time she’d had it on. A smile curved her lips. She ran her hands down the diagonal dove-gray stripes that joined in a V pattern at the centered buttons. They made her small waist look even smaller.

  She turned and glanced over her shoulder, shook the skirt’s top tier to make the fabric hang right, then lifted her gaze to her hair. Curls cascaded from the constraining gray velvet ribbon at the crown of her head to the middle of her back. She frowned, caught at her bottom lip with her teeth. She should brush them into an upsweep. She would be meeting the people of Whisper Creek at church, and she wanted Garret to be proud of her. Please, Lord...

  She hurried to the dressing table, removed the ribbon and brushed her curls up into a cluster and pinned them in place. The wide ribbon fastened under the curls insured they would not fall free.

  There was a sharp rap on her door. “Virginia, are you ready? It’s time to leave.”

  “I’m coming, Garret!” She slid hairpins on the underside of the bow to hold it in place, slipped a lace-edged handkerchief in her gray velvet reticule and hurried to open her bedroom door. “I’m ready.”

  He stared. Warmth crawled into her cheeks. She reached up to make sure her curls were still in place. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Nothing you can do anything about.” He growled the words under his breath, stepped back and walked down the hallway.

  Now what did that mean? What had she done to make him angry? She sighed, closed her door and hurried after him.

  He held out her coat. She slipped her arms in the sleeves, and he dropped it on her shoulders. He grabbed her hat off its peg and handed it to her. “Do you want your muff?”

  “No. It will only be in my way at church.”

  He shrugged into his coat and opened the door to the lobby.

  “Oh, my!” Mrs. Fuller smiled and set aside the Bible she was reading. “You look beautiful, Virginia. And you are quite handsome, Mr. Stevenson. You make a lovely couple.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fuller.” A lovely couple. She glanced at Garret. He was looking at her. Warmth stole across her cheeks. She settled her hat on her head and tied the ribbons beneath her chin to hide a sudden swell of shyness.

  “Well, I’d best go check on the stew I’m making for dinner.” The older woman rose from the chair by the hearth. “Don’t you be concerned about your guests, Mr. Stevenson. I’ll listen for the bell and do my best to take care of them, have they a need.”

  He nodded, put on his hat and tugged on his gloves. “We’ll be back before the next train comes. And I’ll pay you extra for your help, Mrs. Fuller.”

  The woman paused in the dining room doorway. “There’s no need of that, Mr. Stevenson. I’m pleased to be of help.” Her soft words faded away with her footsteps.

  “Until the day you leave.”

  Virginia caught her breath. The words were bitter and so quiet she wasn’t sure she heard him right. She looked at Garret. He was staring at the empty dining room doorway, his face taut. Lord, please heal whatever has hurt Garret. Please heal his heart, Lord.

  He turned and opened the door. Cold air swept into the room. “Shall we?”

  She nodded and took hold of his offered arm.

  * * *

  “My text for today is taken from Matthew chapter five. Verse forty-eight says, ‘Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.’” Pastor Karl grasped the sides of the altar, looked out over the people in the church and smiled. “I figured I was safe in using this text, as I know most of you sitting here this morning, and I know you’re not perfect.”

  “You are, Papa.”

  Ivy Karl gasped, leaned down and whispered to the small towheaded child sitting on the bench next to her.

  Laughter burst from the congregation.

  Garret chuckled, an infectious rumble from deep inside him that she could almost feel. Virginia looked up at him, caught her breath. His eyes were twinkling, his mouth slanted in a crooked grin. The hint of a dimple indented his cheek, as if someone had lightly touched him there with a fingertip. Hers twitched. How would it feel?

  “Ah, out of the mouth of babes.” The pastor laughed, then sobered and looked down at the first bench. “Don’t speak out in church again, Nixie.” He looked up and the laughter stopped. “To continue...the word that bothers me the most in this verse is that word therefore. It harks back to all of the previous verses. And if you read...”

  Heat from Garret’s arm warmed hers. He was perfectly still, but there was something about him that made her very aware of him. Everyone here thought he was her husband. What would that be like? Her chest tightened. The pastor’s voice drifted into the background. She looked at Garret’s hand resting on his thigh, so close to her own. If she shifted her position a bit...

  Her stomach fluttered. She resisted the temptation, lifted her gaze to his face. He looked different. Rather...rakish, handsome and dangerous. The way he had looked when he was removing her boots that first night.

  He looked down. He’d caught her staring at him! Heat flooded into her cheeks. She jerked her gaze forward.

  “‘—pray for them which despitefully use you.’” Pastor Karl swept his gaze over the people, rested it on her for a moment, then moved on. “This is a hard command to follow. Most of us want to get even if we are insulted or injured or otherwise mistreated.”

  Emory Gladen flashed into her mind. She hadn’t wanted revenge. All she’d wanted was to escape him. And that had brought her to Whisper Creek to become Garret’s wife—his pretend wife. But it didn’t feel that way anymore. She felt as if she belonged to him.

  Tears stung her eyes. Her throat closed. She loosened the drawstring, slipped her handkerchief out of her reticule and stole a sidelong glance at Garret from beneath her eyelashes. His face had that closed, taut look again. She bowed her head and surreptitiously dabbed at her eyes, held them wide to stop the flow of tears.

  Lord, please help Garret. Heal his heart and make him happy, I pray. And please help me to be the best pretend wife he could have.

  * * *

  Garret shut his ledger and shoved away from his desk. It had been another prosperous day. People had to eat and sleep, even on Sunday. The dining room had been visited by passengers from every train that came to town until it closed. Mrs. Fuller had cooked delicious meals. And Virginia had been busy all day helping in the kitchen, serving the customers in the dining room, then cleaning up the tables and washing dishes between trains.

  He wished she would complain. Her composure kept him off balance. He kept waiting for her to leave—to abandon him. To run off with one of those cavalrymen who flirted with her, though he’d never seen or heard her do anything but politely remind them she was married. But then, none of them could offer her a decent lifestyle. She might work hard here, but she had a comfortable place to live. Of course, if a wealthy man came along...

  He lurched to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets and paced around his office, the images he’d been warding off all day flooding his mind. The way she had looked when she opened her bedroom door that morning—he’d been hard-pressed not to take her in his arms and—

  Stop it, Stevenson! Don’t even think about it! He yanked his hand from his pocket and scrubbed the back of his neck. It had been torture sitting beside her in church, with her hand so close to his and that look in her eyes he didn’t understand,
but sure wanted to explore. It had been the longest morning of his life. He’d thought the pastor would never stop preaching! And then—

  He had to get out of here—go outside where he could stretch his legs and breathe some cold air.

  He strode to the sitting room, tugged on his boots and yanked his coat off its hook. “Virginia!” He jammed his arms into the coat sleeves and fastened the buttons.

  “Yes?”

  He glanced at her, standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing her apron and drying a plate. She’d let her hair down when she’d changed out of her church dress. He clenched his hands. “Are you still working?”

  “We’re almost finished. Mrs. Fuller is setting bread dough for tomorrow, and I’m finishing up the dishes.” She glanced toward the windows, then back at him. “I see you’re going out. Did you want me to get you the lantern?”

  “No. The moonlight is sufficient. I only wanted you to know that I’m going out and will be back shortly.”

  “All right. I’ll listen for the bell.”

  Her smile took him like a fist to the stomach. He frowned and hurried through the lobby to the front porch. It had started snowing in a desultory way. He trotted down the steps and started down the road, his long strides eating up the distance. The moonlight filtered through the tops of the towering pines at the foot of the surrounding mountains and glazed the snow with a silver sheen. Even with the falling snow, it was bright enough to see. He frowned, walked faster. He might as well turn all this excess energy into some purpose.

  He left the road at the edge of the trees and followed a narrow path through the darkness beneath the overhanging branches to a small clearing. Flickering firelight beneath large laundry tubs led him to a patched canvas tent in front of a snow-covered shanty. Ah Cheng came forward to meet him.

  “Meester Garret, welcome. Ah Cheng come see you tomorrow.”

  “You’ve found me a worker?”

  The Chinese man bobbed his head. “Ah Cheng sister number three come tomorrow from bad house. Li Min be glad to get free. She learn fast. Work hard to no go back to bad men.”

  “That’s good news, Ah Cheng. I will pay you for finding help for me when you bring her to the hotel tomorrow.” If she is able to get away from the man who is selling her services to the railroad workers.

  “That very good. Money help Ah Cheng bring family from China. Need to pay bad man much to let family come.”

  “Perhaps I can help you reach your goal. I don’t want to endanger anyone, but have you any more...sisters who would like to come to work for me? My business has grown faster than I expected, and my wife needs more help than I anticipated.”

  “Ah Cheng will find. Tell Li Min. Maybe so she bring sister number four with her.”

  “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Be careful, Ah Cheng. I don’t want to be the cause of you or your wife or your sisters being hurt.”

  The Chinese man’s black eyes glittered. He patted what was obviously the handle of a knife beneath his tunic. “Ah Cheng, get free bad man in China. No bad man hurt me here. You make good work for sisters, Meester Garret. You save them from hurt.”

  He dipped his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started back up the path, focusing on his conversation with Ah Cheng to hold thoughts of Virginia at bay. Maybe he’d get some sleep tonight.

  The snowfall increased. He pulled up his collar and quickened his steps. The moonlight disappeared when he reached Blake Latherop’s store. He focused on the blurred yellow blotches that were the oil lamps on the hotel porch and hurried toward them, bumped headlong into someone coming down the steps and sent both of them tumbling backward.

  “Oof!”

  “Virginia?” He grabbed her arm and helped her to the porch. “What are you doing out here?”

  She pointed to a feeble yellow glow under the snow by the side of the steps. “I thought you might need a lantern.”

  “You thought—are you daft, woman! You were going to go out in this weather to bring me a lantern?” He leaned down and snatched it out of the snow to keep from shaking her. He put it down on the porch, stomped his feet, pulled off his gloves and used them to brush away the thick layer of snow clinging to her coat. “Look out there! No lantern would be seen in that thick a snowfall!” He dropped the gloves and shook out the snow trapped in her long curls. “You could have been lost or—”

  “There’s no need to yell.” She stepped back, brushed snow from her skirts. “I can hear you perfectly well. It’s like a cave in here. A snow cave.” She leaned over the railing, stuck out her arms, then immediately pulled them back. Her hands and wrists were piled with snow. She brushed them off, looked at him with a mixture of wonder and fear in her eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like a solid wall of snow. Thank the Lord you got home in time.” Her soft voice quavered.

  Home. He gritted his teeth, pulled off his hat and slapped it against his pant leg to keep from reaching for her. “We’d better—”

  Light streaked through the deluge of snow. Crack!

  “Oh!” She whirled, threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his chest, trembling.

  He pulled her tight against him and cradled her head with his hand, his heart thudding, his pulse pounding.

  Flash. Crack!

  She jerked and pressed closer, tipped her head up and looked into his eyes. “What—”

  “It’s lightning.”

  “In a snowstorm?” Her eyes widened. “It can’t be. Can it?”

  Flicker, streak. Boom! The porch shook.

  She all but crawled inside his coat. It was too much. He lowered his head, touched her lips with his, then claimed them. She stiffened, then clutched his coat and raised up on her toes. Her soft, warm lips yielded, parted beneath his inviting ones. The kiss sent a shock streaking through him greater than the lightning flashing through the snow. It rocked him to the center of his being, more powerful than the quivering in his chest from the claps of thunder. What had he done?

  He set her away from him, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Virginia. I lost my head and my manners. I didn’t mean to violate our agreement. Please forgive me. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then swallowed and nodded. “It was my fault as much as yours, Garret. The storm...” She made a helpless little gesture, opened the door and walked into the hotel with her head held high.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Now pull the sheet tight and tuck it beneath the end of the mattress. Fold the corner under like this, then smooth it out...” Virginia made a perfect corner, smiled at the memory of her first attempts at making a bed. “Now you do the same on the other side.” She straightened and watched the Chinese woman follow her instructions, amused that she had become the teacher. It was such a short time ago that she had learned how to make a bed from Mrs. Fuller. How thankful she was for the older woman’s friendship. “Very good, Liu Yang. Now, do the same with the cover sheet and blanket, but only tuck them in at the foot of the bed.”

  She moved to the window and opened the shutters. The sunshine had melted the clinging snow, and drops of water slid down the small panes of glass and dripped off the wood that framed them. She blinked at the bright light and looked out at the towering pines. The visible branches were bowed, many of them broken by the weight of the snow that clung to them. The large bottom branches were hidden beneath deep white drifts deposited by that strange thunder snowstorm. It had lasted only a few hours, but it had almost doubled the depth of the snow left by the blizzard.

  Thank You, Lord, that Garret reached home just as the thunder snowstorm began. She wrapped her arms around herself, remembering what a close thing it had been. If he’d been caught out—

  “What next, mee-sus?”

  She turned from the window, pulling her thought
s back to the business at hand. “Put this on the pillow and place it at the head of the bed.” She handed Liu Yang a pillow slip, then lifted a quilt from the chair. “And then spread this over the bed.”

  She glanced at the bedside table. “Do you know how to light an oil lamp?”

  “Yes, mee-sus.”

  “Good.” Her thoughts drifted back to the night of the thunder snowstorm. Garret had been furious when she’d told him she’d been going out in the storm to bring him a lantern. Surely that meant he cared for her at least a little.

  She closed the shutters, skimmed her gaze over the Chinese woman’s work and smiled. “The bed looks fine, Liu Yang. Now I want you to go to the wardrobe in the hall, get the linens you will need and make the bed in room number ten without my instruction. When you finish that, I will show you how to clean the dressing rooms.”

  She followed the Chinese woman into the hallway, watched to be sure she chose the right linens, then waited by the door while Liu Yang made the next bed.

  Boots thudded on the stairs. Garret came into view, carrying a bucket of coal. Her pulse quickened. She’d seen very little of him since he’d kissed her. Since she’d kissed him back. Warmth spread across her cheeks.

  He walked over to her and stopped, looked down at her. “How is Liu Yang doing?”

  “Fine.” She smiled, grateful for the dim light in the hallway that hid her blush. “She’s already learned how to make a bed.”

  “That’s good.” He shifted his grip on the pail, frowned. “Have you told her she’s not to touch the heating stoves?”

  “Yes. That’s the first thing I told her.” She looked down and smoothed the front of her long skirt to keep from staring at him. “It’s good that the trains aren’t running today. I have time to teach her the things she needs to know.” She smiled and shook her head. “I keep thinking how strange it is that I am teaching her how to make beds and clean the dressing rooms. It was such a short time ago that I learned those things from Mrs. Fuller.”

 

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