by Barbara Goss
Joe Simmons rolled his eyes. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The more we twist the truth, the higher our chances of being found out.”
Cam took a seat across the desk from his partner. “Why do you want this for me?” His friend took so long to answer that Cam wondered if he ever would.
Finally, Simmons spoke. “Hunter’s Grove is dying. The salt mines have closed, and people are leaving in droves. We need the railroad to change its course from Hays to Hunter’s Grove instead of Great Bend. If you were to become our senator... well, let’s say we’d have a good chance of making that happen.”
“Why me? Why not you?” Cam asked.
Simmons sighed. “You know what my personal life is right now. My wife ran off with the undertaker, and I can’t get a divorce because I have no idea where she is. Even if I could find her... a divorced man could never be elected.
“As to why you,” Simmons continued, “it’s because I think you’d be a great senator. As you know, people are leaving Hunter’s Grove. Soon there won't be enough business for two lawyers. If you become elected, I can hold our firm up, at least until the railroad comes through Hunter’s Grove.”
“Hold on!” Cam said, standing. “So, I have to marry a woman I don’t love and acquire two children just so I can persuade the railroad to come through Hunter’s Grove?”
Simmons nodded with a smirk. “Yes, pretty much.”
Cam paced his office. He felt used and angry. How could his best friend do that to him? He re-read the letter Joe had edited, balled it up, and threw it into the trash. He wouldn't do it. Joe Simmons was using him. Still, he loved the idea of running for a senate seat.
He paced some more. Hannah did seem like a perfect wife for him, for she was pretty, and she came from a good family. Her letters showed distinct class. He already felt a bit fond of her. The poor woman had lost her parents, her home...
Would it be such a sacrifice to marry her? A lot of men married women they didn’t love for companionship or to have someone to cook and clean for them. He already had a housekeeper, but now, he’d have an intelligent companion, and who knows? Perhaps they would become a good match.
Cam retrieved the letter from the trash and flattened it out. He rewrote the letter using Joe’s editing and added at the bottom, Alas, I failed to mention that I have two children. Would that change things between us? He thought hard on his next words. Would you consider marrying me by proxy and coming to Hunter’s Grove as my wife? Cam added an explanation as to why the marriage had to be by proxy due to his caseload, and then he mailed the letter.
Cam brought the two children home and introduced them to his housekeeper, Bessie. He’d had to explain his plan to his housekeeper, but he trusted her.
Bessie left to bathe the children, show them to their rooms, and help them unpack their few belongings. She met with Cam in his office after leaving the children to nap. “Excuse me, Mr. Hart, but may I have a word with you?”
Cam put his ink pen down and turned to face her. “Of course.”
“I’ll keep your secret and help you with the children, but,” Bessie shuffled her feet nervously, “I think my pay should increase, what with the extra work and all.”
“I’ve already decided to raise your salary, and in a few weeks, my wife will arrive to help you with the children.
"Would you send them to my office when they awaken from their naps? I need to prepare them for their new mother.”
Cam stared at the children sitting stiffly on the settee. The little girl looked about four or five, and the boy much younger—he was sucking his thumb. Cam planned as he studied them. If he had a two-year-old son, his first wife might have died in childbirth two years ago. Yes, that would work. He smiled and addressed the little girl with blonde hair and big blue eyes, wearing a faded brown pinafore and a guarded face. “I’m your new father. You may call me Father. What’s your name?”
The little girl looked him square in the face and said boldly, “My name is Annabelle Digby.”
Cam laughed nervously. “Ah, but now that you’re my son and daughter, your names will become Annabelle and Georgie Hart. Can you remember that?”
“Of course, I can.”
“How old are you?”
Annabelle shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Our parents had so many children, they had to ask a nearby family to take in Georgie and I, but they were mean to us, so we left and lived on the streets.”
Cam let his mouth drop. “What did you eat? Where did you sleep?”
“We stole most of our food or begged. I took good care of Georgie, too. Then, the police came and sent us to an orphanage that was so crowded, we slept three and four to a bed. The food was good, though.”
“I see,” Cam said, “and then you rode the orphan train, and I brought you home to be my very own children.” He smiled at them, but they didn’t return the smile.
Cam clapped his hands together. “We are going to play a little game. Do you like games?”
Annabelle nodded.
“My wife, your new mother, will arrive soon. I’m very anxious to become one happy family. I would like for you to pretend that you’ve always lived here, and that I’ve always been your father. If you can do that for me, I will take you into town to buy you all new clothes and a lot of toys. How does that sound?”
Annabelle shrugged. “I guess I can play your game, but will there be a lot more children coming? I don’t want you to have so many that we’ll be given away again.”
Cam smiled at Annabelle. “As long as you play my game, I’m fairly sure you’ll be my only children, and I promise that you can stay here as long as you'd like. I’m your father forever, now.”
He stood and paced in front of the children. “I want everyone to think you are my children from birth and not from the orphan train. I want us to be a happy family. My new wife thinks you are my real children and that your real mother died. Do you ever play make-believe?”
Annabelle nodded.
“We’re going to be such a happy family, but how you came to be here is a secret.”
Cam looked at Georgie. “How old is Georgie?”
“I think he’s almost three.”
“Does he always suck his thumb?”
“Georgie sucks it when he’s nervous or scared,” she said.
Cameron remembered that when he’d chosen the children from the line of orphans, a woman had given him papers. He hadn’t done more than give them a brief look before locking them in his desk drawer, and he supposed they included information of their births.
Cam ruffled the tow-headed boy’s head. “I’ll be a good father, Georgie.”
Hannah was shocked to read in Cameron’s letter that he had two children. Not only would she become a wife, but a mother as well. She thought about backing out since she wasn’t sure at all about marrying by proxy either. She took out her pen and paper and prepared to write Cameron a letter telling him she’d changed her mind. But before she did, Hannah gazed over at his photograph on the desk and sighed. Here was a good-looking attorney who lived in a large house with a housekeeper, and she was living in a one-room flat where she slept on a settee at night. What were her chances of marrying and becoming a mother at her age? She sighed and wrote back to Cam that she’d be delighted to meet his children, and she would agree to the proxy marriage, and she posted the letter quickly before she changed her mind again.
Three weeks later, Cameron Hart sent her the paperwork for the proxy marriage, a train ticket to Hays, and a stagecoach ticket from Hays to Hunter’s Grove.
Chapter Three
Hannah gazed at her reflection in her pocket mirror. They were approaching Hunter’s Grove, and she wanted her hair, at least, to be tidy. Her navy-blue skirt had creases from having sat for five days, and her shoes were dusty from the rustic roads. At least she’d managed to keep her white blouse clean. She tucked a few loose hairs behind her ears, patted the bun on the top of her
head, and grabbed her small suitcase just as the stagecoach pulled into Hunter’s Grove.
When Cameron had told her the town was small, he hadn’t been exaggerating. The main street had a shabby-looking hotel, a blacksmith's shop, a general store, a small livery, and a building she guessed was a small bank. She didn’t see a church steeple. She thought every town had a church. There were a few small buildings around a curve in the main street, but otherwise, that was about all there was to the town.
The stagecoach stopped in front of Hunter’s Inn. There were about five people waiting for the stage, but she didn’t see Cameron. She stepped off the stage and shielded her eyes from the sun as she scanned the faces of the people in the small gathering.
“Mrs. Hart?” a man said from behind her. At first, she kept walking, but then he repeated her name louder.
Hannah had forgotten her last name was now Hart. She spun around. “Yes?”
The man removed his hat and smiled. "I’m Cam’s friend and law partner, Joseph Simmons, at your service.”
Hannah gave him a confused look. “It’s nice to meet you, but where’s Cameron?”
“He sent me to meet you since he had a court case all day. He asked me to escort you to your new home,” he said.
Joseph Simmons looked older than Cameron. Hannah guessed him to be about forty. He was dressed in an immaculate dark suit with a black string tie. Hannah had heard much about Mr. Simmons, so she didn’t hesitate to follow him to his buggy.
“Do you have more luggage?” he asked.
“Yes, a trunk. They’re unloading it now.” She pointed. “It’s the one with the blue ribbon on the handle. All of the trunks look so similar, I wanted to be sure I could spot which one was mine.”
Mr. Simmons helped her up into the luxurious vehicle. “You stay here in the buggy, and I’ll get your trunk.”
Hannah felt her mouth drop when she saw her new home. The house wasn’t Victorian; it was new and modern-looking. It wasn’t grander than her family’s home in Chicago, but it looked finer in comparison because of the rustic setting. Most of the homes they’d passed on the way had been simple one-floor homes. This house had three stories, painted white with black shutters, and it looked majestic in this bucolic setting. It had a large front porch with rocking chairs set out just waiting for someone to sit on them. Hannah was pleased.
Mr. Simmons helped her gather her things, and he walked her up to the front door. He lifted the knocker, banged it twice, and walked in, letting her go ahead of him.
A woman rushed into the large foyer to meet them. “Welcome home, Mrs. Hart,” she said. “I’m Bessie, your housekeeper. Let me show you to your room.”
Hannah felt a chill run through her, which she tried to hide. Was she being led to the master bedroom and expected to...? The thought was too frightening to even think about.
She gave Bessie a nervous smile and followed her up the stairs. Mr. Simmons carried her trunk right behind them.
The stairway had a landing before it continued to the second floor. It reminded her of their home in Chicago, given the landing’s little window overlooking the backyard. How could she not feel at home there?
She heard children's voices as Bessie led her down the hall. Hannah loved children, and she couldn’t wait to meet them. Finally, Bessie opened a door at the far end of the hallway. “This is your room. The room next door is the master bedroom, and there’s a door,” she pointed, “which connects to it. There’s a lock on both sides so you can both have privacy when you want it.”
Hannah slowly and silently let out the breath she’d been holding. Her parents had had a similar setup.
Mr. Simmons set her luggage down. “I have to get back to the office, but I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other, Mrs. Hart.”
“Hannah, please,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for welcoming me to Hunter’s Grove.”
Once Simmons and Bessie had left, she started unpacking. She felt someone's eyes on her as she hung her clothes in the wardrobe, and she spun around in time to see four eyes staring at her from the crack in the partially open door. Hannah started to greet the pairs of eyes, but they were gone in a flash, before she could get a good look at them. She shrugged and finished putting her clothes away.
Bessie soon reappeared with a large, oblong, metal tub. “I suspect you’d welcome a bath after the long and dusty ride.”
Hannah smiled at her. “You guessed right. I’d love a bath.”
Bessie appeared to be in her early fifties. Her hair had streaks of white mixed in with the brown. She was neither fat or slim but full-bodied and strong-looking. Hannah thought she had to be strong to have carried the buckets of hot water upstairs—four pails, two each trip.
After her bath, Hannah felt invigorated. She shook the wrinkles from her white blouse and put on a clean blue skirt. The house's floor plan was similar to her family's home in Chicago, too, so she had no trouble navigating.
As she started toward the stairs, the sound of children laughing caught her attention, and she followed the sound to the room across the hall from hers. In her family home, it would have been her bedroom.
She knocked lightly, opened the door, and two children jumped to attention from their frolicking on the floor, their toys strewn all about. They stared at her. The boy grabbed his sister’s dress and sucked his thumb, while the girl stared defiantly back at her.
Hannah gave them her best smile. “Hello. I’m your new mother.”
The girl whispered something to the little boy who loosened his hold on her dress. The girl stood. “I’m Annabelle, and this is Georgie.”
Still smiling, Hannah knelt down to their level. “I’m so pleased to meet you both. I know we’ll get along amazingly. I love children, you know. I’m a schoolteacher... well, I was before I came here to Hunter’s Grove. Do you go to school?”
Annabelle glanced out the window. “Oh, here comes Father. He likes us to greet him at the door.” She grabbed Georgie’s hand and pulled him out of the room.
Hannah stood. She thought it strange that Annabelle didn’t want to talk about her schooling. She shrugged. Maybe she was too young for school yet, although she did seem bright.
She followed the children down the stairs, but she did so slowly. She was nervous about meeting her husband under such unusual circumstances. Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there, watching Cameron give each child a greeting. Instead of hugging them, he patted each of them on the head. Then he glanced up, saw her, froze, and Hannah realized that he was as unprepared for them to meet as she was.
Cameron took several steps toward her and smiled. “At last, my bride has arrived.” He came closer, hugged her lightly, and kissed her cheek. “Have you settled in?”
She nodded. “Yes. Bessie took good care of me.”
“Have you met my... um... our children?”
“I have,” Hannah said, smiling at Annabelle and Georgie. “They are delightful children and well-mannered, too.”
Cameron patted the children's shoulders. “Run upstairs and play until dinner is served. Your mother and I need to have a chat.”
The children scampered up the stairs, leaving an uneasy silence between the couple. Cameron looked fairly close to the image in his photograph. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and he wore the same small, thin mustache as he had in the newspaper photo. His eyes were a warm brown. Hannah thought his first wife must have been blonde and blue-eyed like the children.
Cameron took her hand, “Come—let’s talk in the sitting room.”
Once they were seated, he asked, “Have you been treated well since you arrived?”
“Oh, yes.” Hannah fidgeted with the folds in her skirt. The conversation seemed stiff and formal. He was a somewhat handsome man, but he seemed as nervous as she was. She hated facial hair, but the thin mustache looked good on him. He looked more uncomfortable than she felt. What was he hiding? Why couldn’t he look her in the eyes for more than a few seconds at a time?
“Good, good. I apologize that I was unable to greet you myself, but when you have three court cases in one day...well, I’m sure Joe Simmons did a wonderful job escorting you home.”
“He did.”
“And I see you've met the children. And Bessie?”
Hannah nodded.
“I have a slight problem, and I’m hoping you can help me,” he said, sitting on the edge of the settee, his elbows resting on his knees.
Would she finally learn why he was so ill at ease?
He continued, “I’ve been an attorney for almost ten years, and Joe thinks I would make a good senator.”
Hannah felt her eyes widen on their own accord. “Senator!”
Cam nodded. “He convinced me that a single man hadn’t a chance of being elected. That was why I needed a well-educated, and poised wife. You fit the bill completely.” He smiled. “However, he thinks it best if we didn’t tell anyone the circumstances under which we married.”
When Hannah gave him a puzzled look he added, “We need to be circumspect in order to win the election.”
Chapter Four
Having explained his plans to Hannah, Cam wondered if she understood the gravity of the situation. He studied her while waiting for her to speak or ask him a question. Her hair was the color of honey—not quite blonde and definitely not brown. Her eyes were dark blue, and she was very petite. Her looks were pleasing, and she dressed well. She would do just fine.
Hannah straightened her spine. “I will not do anything dishonest.”
Cam laughed nervously. “Not dishonest, just evasive. I want you to do everything possible to help me win the election next fall. If someone asks when we were married outright, you could change the subject or say something humorous, like ‘it seems like a lifetime ago.’”
