Rose: Bride of Colorado (American Mail-Order Bride 38)

by Margery Scott

  “Anything else you forgot to tell me?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip for a few moments, then shook her head.

  Charlie wasn’t so sure she was telling the truth. More and more, he was beginning to wonder if there was more to Rose Winchester than she was letting on.

  Chapter 5

  Charlie reined in his stallion, Pepper, in front of his parents’ house. His stomach was one giant knot.

  He had no way of knowing if someone from town had already told them his news, and he couldn’t decide which would be worse – if they already knew, they would have had time to calm down, but it might be easier if the news came from him.

  Still, if they didn’t know, he had no idea how they were going to react to the news that he’d done what his father had asked and found himself a wife. She just wasn’t the wife his father expected him to get.

  Charlie knew his father well, and he knew the way the man thought. Robert was well aware how much the ranch meant to Charlie. It had been obvious since he was old enough to handle a pitchfork. He remembered the day well, how surprised his father had been that he didn’t complain about the chores. He’d seen pride on the man’s face that day. It was too bad he hadn’t seen it often lately. Instead, lately he’d only seen frustration and disappointment.

  His father knew Charlie would do almost anything to keep this land, and he’d be sure Charlie would give in and marry Eugenie to unite the two families. But he’d be wrong.

  Spending his life with Eugenie … for Charlie, that would be worse than never setting foot on the Bar-H again.

  As long as he could remember, it had been a foregone conclusion that he and Eugenie would one day tie the knot. A banker’s daughter in the family would be quite an asset, according to Robert.

  But the older Charlie got, the more determined he’d become to steer clear of Eugenie’s clutches. He’d even gone out of his way to be everything he assumed a woman wouldn’t want in a husband, hoping she’d set her sights on someone else.

  He’d spent his nights in the saloon, drinking, fighting, gambling, and even making sure she found out about the nights he spent with the saloon women, hoping she’d be so angry she’d never speak to him again.

  None of that had worked.

  Deep down, Charlie wanted a woman he could love, could share a life with, raise a family with. But he’d never found one, and after several failed relationships, he was convinced he wasn’t capable of loving anyone.

  But he’d stay single until his dying day rather than marry Eugenie.

  Now, thanks to Rose, Eugenie would have no choice but to leave him alone.

  And if for no other reason, he was glad he was married. He didn’t expect to ever love Rose the way his parents loved each other, or the way George loved his wife. He just didn’t have it in him. But if they could live together in harmony and eventually become friends, that would be good enough.

  He barely knew her, but he already sensed they were compatible in other ways that mattered. And he was sure that one day, she’d come around and they could have a real marriage. Which would be nice, because he’d just lately been thinking that he wouldn’t mind having a few children to carry on his name.

  The parlor was empty when he went into the house, so he wandered through to the dining room and found his parents at the table. Removing his hat and hooking it over a knob on the back of one of the chairs, he rounded the table and leaned over to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  “Where have you been?” Robert’s voice boomed through the room. “Your mother has been beside herself with worry.”

  He turned to face his father. “Sorry, Ma. I was in town.”

  “Gambling again, I expect.” Robert’s coffee cup rattled as he set it down on the saucer and got up. For several long moments, the two men eyed each other. “I’m disappointed in you,” he said finally, resting his hands on the table. “I thought the Bar-H meant something to you, but it looks like I was wrong. You do realize what day this is, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re telling me you’d rather give up your inheritance than marry?”

  Charlie shook his head. “I don’t have to give up anything.”

  A frown creased Robert’s forehead. His eyes narrowed. “I was clear about what I expected—”

  “You were.”

  “Then—”

  “I got married.”

  Charlie heard his mother’s gasp. Her hand flew to cover her mouth.

  “What? You’re married? When? Where? Were Eugenie’s parents there? And why didn’t you tell us?”

  Charlie took a deep breath and let it out slowly while he tried to form the right words to explain what he’d done without causing his father to have a stroke.

  “I didn’t marry Eugenie.”

  The tension in the room was thick. “What did you say?”

  “I said I didn’t marry Eugenie. I married someone else.”

  Robert peered at him for a moment, then straightened and began to pace. He raked his fingers through his hair. Finally, he stopped and turned to face him. “And who did you marry?” he shouted.

  “Her name is Rose. Rose Winchester.”

  His mother’s small voice interrupted. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “She’s from Massachusetts, just outside Boston. She arrived yesterday and we got married.”

  Robert’s face grew mottled red, and Charlie wouldn’t have been surprised if the top of his head blew off. “Of all the messes you’ve gotten yourself into over the years, this tops them all.”

  Charlie closed the gap between them and met his father’s gaze steadily. Both men were the same height, although Robert outweighed Charlie by at least thirty pounds. But he’d heard enough.

  “If it’s a mess I’m in, then it’s because of your ultimatum. You demanded I get married or be cut out of the will. I got married.”

  “You were supposed to marry Eugenie.”

  A slow smile tugged at Charlie’s lips. “Actually, Pa, you didn’t say that. If I remember it right, you said I had to be married by midnight tonight. You didn’t say I had to be married to Eugenie.”

  For several long seconds, neither of them spoke. Suddenly, his mother’s soft voice broke the silence. “He’s right, Robert,” she said. “You might have expected him to marry Eugenie, and maybe even suggested it, but you never did say he had to marry Eugenie or lose the ranch.”

  Robert’s gaze swung from Charlie to his wife and back again. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Looks like you win,” he said, the defeat in his voice making Charlie’s stomach twist.

  “I’m not trying to win anything,” Charlie assured him. “You wanted me to get married, so I got married.”

  “Where did you meet this woman?”

  “Her name is Rose,” he reminded his father. “I sent for her.”

  Robert’s brows lifted. “A mail-order bride? What kind of woman goes off by herself to marry a stranger?”

  “It worked out for George. Angel is a good woman. And I’m hoping it’ll work out for me, too.”

  “And what do you know about this … Rose? What kind of family does she come from? ”

  “I don’t know much about her yet, but I do know she didn’t marry me for our money. That’s a good start, isn’t it?”

  His father crossed back to the table and poured himself another cup of coffee. His hand shook as he picked up the cup and took a sip.

  Charlie thought he heard him mutter something that sounded like “I suppose so.”

  His mother got up and crossed to where Charlie was standing. She rested her hand on his forearm and looked up at him. He thought he saw tears in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Of course I’m very disappointed that we didn’t have a chance to attend your wedding, but I’m sure Rose is lovely and we’ll get along just fine.”

  “She is,” Charlie told her.

  His mother reached up and whispered in his ear. “Now you go on home to your bride. I’ll handle your fathe
r.”

  “Oh … there is one other thing …” he began.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Do you have a cookbook to spare? Seems Rose doesn’t know how to cook.”

  His mother chuckled. “Well then, that’s something I can help with. I do miss cooking, and I don’t get to spend much time in the kitchen these days.”

  She bustled off, disappearing through an open doorway, leaving Charlie and his father alone. Silence again filled the room.

  Feeling more awkward than he’d ever felt, Charlie dug his hands in his pockets and gazed out the window to the stretch of land reaching to the foothills of the mountains. Why didn’t his father say something? Were they never going to speak again?

  Finally, his father cleared his throat. “I suppose I’d better get in touch with Eugenie’s father and let him know there isn’t going to be a wedding after all.”

  Charlie turned and studied him. His father seemed to have aged ten years in the past few minutes, and guilt suddenly clawed at Charlie’s stomach like a hungry grizzly. There was nothing he could do about it now, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. But his family meant everything to him, and knowing how much he’d upset them weighed on him. “Eugenie knows,” he responded quietly. “I ran into her this morning in town and she’d already heard.”

  “How did she take the news?”

  How could he put it nicely? “She wasn’t happy about it.”

  “Here you are.” Ada bustled into the room with two books and a blue pottery bowl covered with a towel in her arms. “I can’t have you both starving the first night home,” she said.

  Charlie wrapped his arms around his mother and hugged her, mindless of the fact the bowl was between them. “Thanks, Ma.”

  She patted his cheek and smiled softly. “That’s what mothers are for.”

  “I’ll see you both soon,” he said, taking the bowl from her hands and picking up his hat off the chair with one finger.

  “Come for supper tomorrow. We want to meet her.” She sent a pointed look at her husband, who nodded reluctantly.

  A few minutes later, Charlie was on his way home, two well-used cookbooks under his arm and a bowl of beef stew on the seat beside him, if he hadn’t lost his sense of smell.

  Now that the secret was out, he felt more relaxed than he had since the day he’d gone into the matrimonial agency and asked LouAnne to advertise for a bride.

  And now that they weren’t going to starve, at least for one night, he could focus on wooing his wife. With any luck, tonight would be the real beginning of their marriage.

  * * *

  Rose wandered through the house, familiarizing herself with each of the rooms and the conveniences Charlie had included when he’d built the house.

  She was impressed by the quality of the workmanship in the heavy oak tables, the armchairs facing the stone fireplace, even the piano filling one small wall. And she couldn’t help but be excited at the possibility of a necessary inside the house. For a few moments, she stood in the doorway admiring the cast-iron bathtub inside. Oh, how wonderful it would feel to be able to close a door, relax and enjoy a bath.

  Long shadows filled the rooms by the time Rose was finished unpacking. She lit the oil lamps in the parlor and the kitchen, but she couldn’t help feeling a little jittery being all alone in the house so far from any neighbors. She wasn’t used to the silence, other than the odd mournful howl of some wild animal, and every creak and groan in the house made her heart jump.

  She’d been wrong in lying to Charlie about her abilities, but she’d honestly felt she’d had no choice. But she could make it up to him – if he didn’t send her away.

  He’d done his best to hide it, but she sensed that beneath his light-hearted comments, he’d been angry when he left. And she couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t gotten what he’d advertised for, and now he was legally bound to a woman who knew nothing about running a home.

  What would she do if he came back and told her he didn’t want her? What if he was so angry that she’d lied to him that he sent her back to Boston? How would she survive there? How would she survive anywhere without a husband or a job?

  She had to learn to be a good homemaker. And quickly. Growing up, she’d seen the servants clean and wash clothes. How difficult could it be? She was an intelligent woman. Surely she could master the skills she’d need. But what if she couldn’t?

  No, she wouldn’t think about that. She’d become the best cook and wife in the state, and give Charlie no reason to regret sending for her. She definitely should have warned him that her skills in the kitchen were basic at most, though.

  Thanks to Emma, she had learned to make eggs – and mouth-watering apple cobbler - but even then, she’d never had a huge cookstove like the one in Charlie’s kitchen.

  As the dusk deepened, she busied herself checking the supplies in the heavy oak cupboard standing near the stove. Bags of flour, sugar, oatmeal and cornmeal sat on the bottom shelf, the upper shelves filled with jars of molasses and honey, preserves, pickles and other canned fruits and vegetables.

  She hadn’t seen this much food in one place since she was a young girl and she’d sneaked into the kitchen at the farm and stolen a few cookies.

  None of the supplies did her any good, though. She had no idea how to use any of them. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to her friends when they’d tried to teach her to cook.

  Oh, how she missed them. Here, she had no friends, no family, no one. A lump formed in her throat when she thought of the days when she and her friends had shared the small apartment. Before they’d scattered to the four winds. Would she ever see any of them again? Or would the letters grow more and more infrequent until they stopped altogether.

  No, she wouldn’t let that happen.

  With nothing else to occupy her time, she sat down at the desk in the parlor and wrote a letter to her cousin, Emma, back in Lawrence. Emma had been writing to a wealthy horse breeder in Kentucky, and Rose wasn’t sure if Emma was still living in the apartment they’d shared with Gillian and Willow after the fire at the factory. If not, hopefully, someone would forward the letter to her in her new home.

  Dearest Emma,

  I hope this letter finds you well, and that your future is looking bright, whether or not you decided to follow Gillian, Willow and I and become a mail-order bride.

  My trip to Colorado, although long and tiring, gave me the opportunity to see much of this great country.

  We married immediately after my arrival, and came to Charlie’s ranch, which is much grander than he led me to believe.

  I have fallen in love with this land and with my new home, and I believe I am already developing feelings for my husband. However, I fear you were right in your admonition to be truthful, particularly about my lack of homemaking skills. Charlie (he prefers that name to Charles) seemed rather annoyed when he discovered the truth. I am sure I can learn to be a good ranch wife, and if he is as patient as he seems to be, he will allow me the time to learn.

  I miss you dreadfully. Please write back soon and tell me what you decided about marrying and moving to Kentucky.

  Your loving cousin,

  Rose

  She was finishing up the letter when she heard the door open. Startled, she bounded up to see Charlie coming inside. He was cradling a pot and had something else rammed between his body and one of his arms.

  As he moved toward her, the tantalizing aroma met her nose, and her mouth watered. “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Supper,” he replied, setting the bowl on the table. “Beef stew. Did you happen to light the stove while I was gone?”

  She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t sure if there was anything I needed to know and I didn’t want to risk burning your house down.”

  “Thanks for that,” he said. “There’s no trick to it. Just put the wood in and light a match.”

  “Where did this come from?” Rose asked, her attention turning to the bowl on the table.
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  “Fetch some bowls and spoons and we’ll talk while we eat. The stew’s getting cold.”

  A few minutes later, Rose sat across from Charlie at the table. The stew was delicious, and she’d sliced some bread and buttered it to have with it.

  “After I finished my chores, I went to see my parents. To tell them about our marriage,” Charlie said, wiping up the gravy in his bowl with a chunk of bread. He popped it into his mouth and leaned back in his chair.

  Rose was confused, and a little annoyed. Was he ashamed of her? Didn’t he want her to meet his parents? “What do you mean, to tell them? Didn’t they know you were getting married?”

  A slow flush rose on Charlie’s neck. “Uh … no, they didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He leaned forward and reached across the table to wrap one of his hands around hers. “Look, Rose, it was … I was worried they’d try to stop it. I know I should have told them, but I didn’t. And to be honest, I didn’t take you there today to meet them because I wasn’t sure how they’d react to the news.”

  “I see,” Rose said quietly, setting her spoon in her bowl. “And how did they react?”

  “Pa isn’t happy about it, but he’ll come around as soon as he gets to know you.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She was disappointed she wasn’t at our wedding, but she’s already planning to be your best friend,” he said with a smile. “They want us to come to supper tomorrow.”

  “So soon?”

  “They really want to meet you, Rose,” he went on. “And meanwhile, Ma sent over supper so you didn’t have to worry about cooking your first night here. And when I told her you didn’t know how to cook—”

  Rose’s eyes widened. Humiliation washed over her. “You told her that?”

  “I shouldn’t have?”

  He seemed genuinely confused. How could he be so … oblivious? Didn’t he realize that she’d want to make a good impression on his family? What would they think of her now, a woman who had no idea how to even make a meal for her husband? “No, Charlie,” she replied. “You most certainly shouldn’t have.”