Mail Order Match Maker

by Kirsten Osbourne

  She stared down at her hands for a moment, hating that he was upset with her, but hating even more that she didn’t have the courage to tell him what was going on.

  *****

  Max left out the front door, noticing the rain had started again. It fit his mood perfectly. He’d known from the start that Harriett was the woman he wanted to spend his life with, but he needed to know what she was hiding from him. How could they have a good marriage if she was hiding something important from him?

  He walked through the rain, kicking at rocks he saw on the way. Why didn’t she trust him? He loved her with everything inside him. She was exactly what he’d hoped for when he’d sent the initial letter for a mail order bride. He’d been so certain everything would be perfect when she arrived, and now that she was there, she was hiding something from him.

  His only guess was that she’d been abused somehow, but why wouldn’t she admit that to him? Was she ashamed of something that had been done to her? He didn’t know why she would be, so he hoped that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t imagine what else she was hiding from him.

  As he walked, he found himself heading toward the beach. He loved to watch the rain from the beach. The waves would roll in and he would sit under an awning and just think. He found his favorite spot and sat on the ground, his knees raised in front of him.

  He’d been there for only a few minutes when he noticed someone crouch in the sand beside him. He glanced over and noticed an older man with dark hair sitting beside him. “What’s troubling you?” the man asked in a husky voice.

  Max shook his head. He couldn’t talk about his troubles with a total stranger. He needed to work them out with his wife.

  The man watched him for a moment. “Must be woman troubles. No man has that look on his face when it’s not woman troubles.” He threw a small rock out toward the water.

  Max eyed the man. “You know about women?” The man looked scruffy, as if he lived on the beach, and Max didn’t think he could know much about anything, but he was willing to listen if he thought he knew about women.

  The man laughed deep in his belly. “There’s not a man alive who really knows about women. It’s just not possible. Don’t let anyone tell ya different.”

  Max sighed heavily. “You’re probably right.”

  “Got a new wife?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “You have that ‘I’d rather be home with my wife, but I need to figure something out first’ look about you. I saw it in the mirror a hundred times during my first year of marriage.” The man turned to him fully. “Tell me your troubles.”

  Max shrugged, wishing he knew the right words to say to explain what was happening. “She’s hiding something from me.” That wasn’t all of it, of course, but there it was at the base of it.

  “How do you know?” The man studied him as if trying to figure out if he was nervous for no reason.

  Max struggled to find the right words. “She moved here from Massachusetts to marry me, but she brought her butler with her. She even sent him two weeks before her for some absurd reason.” He paused for a moment. “She was delayed by a month coming out here because her butler was sick. Who delays their wedding because they have a sick butler?” He knew his words made no sense, but he was confused by Harriett’s behavior.

  The man shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing it. Are you afraid she’s doing something wrong? Or are you just curious?”

  Max shook his head. “I don’t think she’s doing anything wrong. Just trying to figure out why she doesn’t trust me.” He looked down at his work boot, still wearing the clothes he’d worn to the lumber camp that day. “When I got home from work today, she greeted me, but then ran off to the butler, and they were whispering in the hall. When I asked what was so important that she had to talk to him instead of me, she just said she had to send him on an important errand, but wouldn’t tell me what the errand was. She said it was only important to her.” How could an errand be important, but only important to her? She didn’t make sense to him.

  “But you trust her enough to know she’s not doing something she shouldn’t be doing? You don’t think she’s having relations with that butler do you?”

  Max laughed. “The butler is old enough to be her father. She seems to genuinely think of him as a father-figure. She even asked him to give her away at our wedding.” He shrugged. “It’s just strange that they’re so close.”

  “Are you sure they’re not related somehow? Did you ask her?”

  Max shook his head. “I guess that’s possible, but then wouldn’t she have just introduced him as her uncle or cousin or father? It doesn’t make sense.” He got to his feet and brushed the sand off his wet pants. “I need to go tell her I’m sorry for storming out like that, I guess. She’s the type to worry.” And he was sorry for running off as he had. He needed to give her time to trust him completely.

  “It sounds like you have a good woman. Give her time. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

  Max nodded. “I’m trying to.”

  He walked briskly through the rain for the ten minutes it took him to get home. Once he was there he wandered through the house calling for Harriett.

  Harriett emerged from their bedroom with red rimmed eyes, and forced a smile. “I knew you’d be wet when you got home, so I had a hot bath readied for you. Get undressed and I’ll wash your back for you.” She gestured for him to come into the bedroom.

  Max stood looking at her for a minute, wanting to hug her close, but not wanting to get her wet. “I’m sorry I ran off when I did.” His eyes pled with her for understanding.

  Harriett’s eyes met his with a surprised look. “I’m sorry I’m not ready to talk about everything.” She walked to him and unbuttoned his shirt for him, certain his fingers were numb from the cold rain. “Can you give me a little more time?”

  Max nodded, happy she was willing to admit there was something she was keeping from him. “You will tell me everything someday?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Higgins has been as close to a father as I’ve had for the past ten years. I know our relationship must seem odd to an outsider, but he looks at me as a daughter. I’ll explain more when I can, but for now, I just need a bit more time.”

  “That’s fine.” He stripped off his pants and stepped into the tub of hot water she had sitting in the middle of their bedroom. “Thanks for having the bath filled for me. It’s exactly what I needed.”

  She stroked his wet hair back from his forehead. “You need a haircut.” She started toward the door. “I’m going to go get you a cup of hot coffee and make sure dinner is almost ready.”

  *****

  Harriett closed the door behind her, almost collapsing in relief against the wall. She couldn’t believe he had apologized for storming off. Arthur had never apologized for anything, always making her believe that anything bad that had happened was her fault.

  Her entire fight with Max tonight, if it could even be called that, was her fault and not his, and he was the one to apologize? She stood for a moment staring at the doorknob, thinking about going back in immediately to tell him everything, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Instead she made her way to the kitchen to get him a cup of coffee. She didn’t want him getting sick.

  Chapter Six

  The following evening, Max got home from work early and walked into the parlor where Harriett was sewing the new curtains. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth and pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back. “I thought you’d be happy to have them to match your new sofa.”

  She smiled and took them from him, inhaling deeply. “Thank you, Max. They’re wonderful!” She was thrilled he’d thought to surprise her with a gift.

  He sat beside her on the sofa, leaning down to kiss her once more. “My sister asked us to come to dinner tonight, and I agreed. I meant to tell you last night, but with everything that happened, I forgot.”

  Harriett smiled, thinking about all
of their crazy nieces. “That sounds like fun. I’d love to go.” She stood up, putting the roses on a table beside the sofa. “Let me just get a vase for these, and then I’ll get changed to go.” She folded the curtains she’d spent the afternoon working on and set them aside to finish up later.

  He eyed her with confusion. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

  She laughed. “This is a simple day dress. To go to dinner, I need to wear something prettier.” Why did men never understand anything about women’s fashion?

  “I think you’re beautiful in whatever you wear.” He stood up and pulled her into his arms, kissing her. “Let’s never fight again. I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.”

  “I wasn’t angry at all. I was worried you were angry with me.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out of the room to get the vase. She hated the idea of the flowers wilting because she wasn’t paying enough attention.

  When she got back, she carefully arranged the flowers, while he sat on the couch watching her. As soon as she was finished, he caught her hand and pulled her down onto his lap straddling him. “We don’t have to be at dinner for another hour and a half,” he whispered against her ear.

  She giggled. “I know you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting. You wouldn’t want to do that right before going to your sister’s house.” She gave him a stern look. “Besides, the door is open and there are servants all around.”

  The sofa was close enough to the door that she could lean back and close the door from her position on his lap. “Lock the door,” he whispered against her ear.

  “I can’t do that!” She couldn’t believe he couldn’t wait until bedtime to make love. Every day it was this way with him.

  “Give me one good reason why not,” he said, while he applied his attentions to unbuttoning the back of her dress.

  She swatted his hand away. “I don’t want the servants to think we’re in here making love!” she protested, blushing.

  “I don’t know why not! We are!” His tongue found the inside of her ear and he took her lobe between his teeth, feeling her writhe against him. “Lock the door, sweetheart.”

  After a moment of indecision, she leaned back, closed the door, and turned the key in the lock. She knew she was acting like a wanton woman, but she didn’t care. She loved her husband, and if the only way she could show him was this, then she was certainly willing to do it.

  She’d never made love anywhere but a bed before, so she had no idea how to go about anything, so she just sank down onto his lap and kissed him, figuring he could take care of the rest.

  He smiled with delight when she actually locked the door. He’d been certain she would tell him to wait until bedtime like she usually did. He kissed her with all the bottled up passion he’d been feeling. The night before was the only night they hadn’t made love since their marriage, and he was feeling more than a little desperate to feel her surrounding him.

  His hands went to the hem of her skirt and he lifted it off of her hips, finding the small slit in her undergarment that would give him access to her body. He spread the slit wide before reaching down to unbutton the front of his breeches and breathed a sigh of relief as his manhood sprang free.

  His eyes looked into hers as he asked, “Are you ready for me?”

  She nodded, blushing slightly. Someday she’d be used to his randiness, but that day was not yet there.

  He slowly lowered her onto his shaft, arching slightly, but allowing her weight to aid his penetration. Once he was fully imbedded inside her, his eyes closed and he let out a low groan. “That’s what I needed.”

  She stared at him, amazed that she was sitting on his lap with him inside her, but they were both fully clothed. She sat for a moment, waiting for him to start moving inside her, but when he didn’t, she asked, “Why are you waiting?” Shouldn’t he be moving inside her like usual?

  He smiled. “You’re in control this time, baby. When you’re ready, take care of us.” He buried his lips in her neck, nibbling at the side of her throat.

  “I don’t know what to do!” She wiggled a little, wanting to feel the sweet release he always brought to her, but having no idea how to get them there.

  He grinned, one corner of his mouth turning up at the side and his brown eyes dancing. “Figure it out.” He sat back against the couch, content to just stay still for as long as she needed.

  Harriett frowned at him, concentrating on the feeling of having him so deeply inside her. She wiggled her hips a little more, her right leg starting to pain her from her position on his lap. “I’m not sure I can. My leg.” She bit her lip, not wanting him to be disappointed in her, but knowing she couldn’t sit there for much longer.

  His eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that. Is it hurting a lot?” He gripped her hips in his hands and started to lift her off him. When she moaned he realized that even if it was hurting her some, she was enjoying what they were doing as well. “Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “But you could help me?” She wasn’t sure how, but she knew he’d know what to do.

  He smiled, settling her on top of him again, before helping her move with his hands at her hips. He began thrusting up as well, knowing how she liked to be touched. They’d only been married a week, but he already knew her body as well as he knew his own.

  He was careful of her leg at first, but when she was obviously enjoying herself, his thrusts became harder and deeper. It was only moments before she arched her back, making a sound deep in her throat that let him know she’d found her release. He thrust upward a few more times, before shooting his seed inside her.

  Groaning, he lifted her off him, settling her on his lap sitting sideways, where there would be no pressure on her leg. “I’m sorry about your leg. I didn’t think.”

  She smiled against his throat. “No need to be sorry. I enjoyed it.” And she had enjoyed it more than she cared to admit.

  He pulled her face away so he could see her eyes, wanting to make sure she wasn’t hurting more than she’d let on. “You’re not hurting because of it?” The concern in his eyes warmed her heart.

  “It always hurts some, but it’s certainly not as bad as it was when it was first broken,” she told him honestly. “I’ll be fine.” She sat for another minute resting against him before standing, and letting her skirts fall back into place. “I need to clean up and change clothes. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Her legs were shaky as she headed to the door.

  He smiled, catching her hand as she headed for the door. “I love you, Harriett.”

  Her face lit up at his words, but instead of replying, she put his hand to her lips, kissing it before rushing out the door.

  *****

  When they arrived at the Sullivan’s house for dinner, Mary looked ready to rip her hair out. Rose was sitting in the parlor holding court with three different young men. Harriett rose her eyebrows as she watched the young girl practice her flirting. After a moment, she stepped into the room and smiled at her new niece. “Good evening, Rose. I haven’t met your friends yet.” She looked at the three young men surrounding Rose, making it clear she wanted an introduction.

  Rose smiled her sweetest smile. Harriett knew it was her sweetest, because she’d seen her practice them all the day of her wedding. “Aunt Harriett, these are my beaux. This is Daniel,” she said indicating the young man beside her on the sofa. “This is Alexander,” she said motioning to the boy on the floor at her feet who had a piece of paper in his hand as if he had just read her a poem of his own composition. “And this is Theodore,” she announced as she pointed to the boy in the chair across the room, leaning forward earnestly as if he were trying to catch Rose’s attention.

  “It’s nice to meet all of you,” Harriett murmured before leaving the room to talk to Mary. “Why does Rose have three beaux?” She couldn’t believe her sister-in-law was putting up with such wild behavior from her oldest daughter.
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  Mary shook her head. “The whole situation is a mess! There are so many more men than women here, because of the lumber camps. For each girl there are eight men. Rose likes men. So she’s playing them all. They compete for her attention and she drinks up their affections like a bee drinking nectar. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Harriett frowned. “Why don’t you make her choose? Or more importantly, why don’t you make her wait a couple of years before she’s allowed to receive them? You can’t think she’s old enough to be seriously considering beaux.” Harriett had married when she was younger than Rose was, but her marriage had been a disaster. She firmly believed that a girl needed to be at least eighteen to know her own mind well enough to choose a man to court her.

  Mary shrugged helplessly. “I was hoping that by having her learn about them all, she’d be able to make a better decision. All it seems to do is spur her on to find even more boys to chase after her.”

  Harriett shook her head. “I’ve never had a daughter, so I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you should put a stop to it.” She knew she was out of line giving advice, but she was worried Rose was headed down the path she’d gone down at sixteen.

  “And tell her what?” Mary asked. “I never dreamed my daughters would be so sought after.”

  “If you want my opinion, I think you should tell her she’s not old enough to marry, and when she is old enough to marry, you’ll help her make her decision.” She shrugged. “I think with the number of men here, you need to check out the background of each man, make sure he has no violent tendencies, and then let her choose between the two or three best candidates.”

  “I don’t know anything about choosing the best man. I married the only boy I ever kissed as soon as I finished school.” Mary gave Harriett a bewildered look as if she had absolutely no idea what to do about Rose and her beaux.