by Kit Morgan
“Land sakes, what are you doing here?” a woman exclaimed as she stood. She was older, probably around the same age as the sheriff and with a similar face. His sister, perhaps?
“Leona!” he said with a smile and quickly crossed the room to her, dropping the bags as he gave her a hug. Two men seated at the table stood, went to the sheriff and gave him the same sort of greeting.
Ebba stood quietly to one side and watched, then noticed that others weren’t watching the sheriff and his sister, but her. Some of the men looked her up and down like she was a piece of candy, while the women stared in disdain before turning away. All except a petite middle-aged woman with an enormous hat on her head – she stood slowly, then smacked the shoulder of a young man who was busy watching the sheriff, his back to Ebba. The man slowly turned in his chair …
Ebba’s breath caught. Åh herregud, she thought to herself. Oh my – he was gorgeous! She swallowed hard and willed herself not to sweat, as the room suddenly felt much warmer.
He stood, looked at her, then slowly smiled. But before he could say anything, the woman headed straight for her. “My my, aren’t you a vision!” She turned to the young man, who was also approaching. “Isn’t she? Didn’t I tell you she’d be beautiful?”
He stopped, eyes wide, and swallowed hard. “Yeah, Ma, ya did.” His eyes widened even further as he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Oh! I’m so sorry! We plumb meant to meet ya when the stage pulled in!”
“It was early,” Ebba said softly. Or was she losing it, beginning to faint? She’d better get some coffee – quickly.
“It did?” the woman said in surprise. “Of all the days for it to be early. Doesn’t that just figure? We’re sorry, child. It’s like Daniel said – we really did mean to meet you at the stage.”
Ebba smiled, afraid to use her voice. The woman was rambling but she didn’t care. She glanced at Sheriff Hughes, who pointed at the man standing in front of her and mouthed Daniel Weaver.
She nodded in acknowledgment, then turned back to her intended. He just stood and stared at her, and she wondered if she’d come as a shock. She then remembered her poor nose and fought a shudder of embarrassment. She hoped he wasn’t disappointed in how she looked. “Would it be too much trouble,” she rasped, “to get a cup of coffee?”
“Of course not, dear,” the woman said. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Mary Weaver. I’m going to be your new mother-in-law!”
Ebba smiled. “Pleased to meet you,” she croaked. Great, her voice was giving out completely!
“Oh, you poor child,” Mrs. Weaver said. “Do you have a cold?”
It was all Ebba could do not to groan. “Something like that.”
“Daniel, pull out a chair for the lady,” she ordered, then pointed at the table. “Hank! Some coffee!” she yelled.
A middle-aged man stomped out from the kitchen. “Good grief, you don’t have to shout like that. If you wanted some that badly, you know where the pot is!”
“This isn’t my restaurant, it’s yours,” she shot back. “Now pour a cup for this poor child – she’s had a long journey.”
Hank studied her a moment. “So this is Daniel’s mail-order bride. Now ain’t he a lucky son of a gun?”
“He’s right there, Hank, and so is she,” Mrs. Weaver scolded. “Now stop looking at her like that and give her some coffee!”
He quickly complied. For such a small thing, the woman had a tremendous air of authority about her. Ebba was glad she did, as she wasn’t sure about the look the restaurant owner had been giving her. Apparently the townspeople here had a low opinion of strangers.
“Would you like to sit down?” her intended asked as he pulled out a chair.
“Yes,” she said, or at least tried to; her voice was almost gone. She hated when this happened. She hoped this wasn’t going to be the norm the entire time she lived here. If she could live here. What was she going to do when her affliction became too much for her?
She practically fell into the chair. Good grief – should she even marry this man? Would she be able to do the things required of a farmer’s wife if she was constantly sneezing and coughing? What if he didn’t want to put up with it? That was something she hadn’t considered until now.
She nodded in thanks as Hank placed a cup of coffee in front of her, reached for it and took a sip. The hot brew hit her raw throat and she cringed in pain.
“Is everything all right?” Mr. Weaver asked. “Is the coffee too hot?”
“A little,” she said. But her voice sounded better already.
“Land sakes, child,” Mrs. Weaver said. “Have you not been well?”
Sheriff Hughes was suddenly at her side. “The poor thing coughed and sneezed nearly half the trip.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Weaver said. “I know just what you need, but I’m afraid I’ll have to go to the saloon.”
“The saloon?” Ebba asked in shock. “What do you need from the saloon?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked the sheriff with a chuckle. “But don’t worry none – Mary here can fix you right up.”
“You stay right there, dear, and I’ll hurry back as fast as I can,” Mrs. Weaver said with a smile.
“I’ll go with you,” the sheriff offered. “A woman ought not to be barging into the saloon by herself. Especially when it’s you – you’re liable to scare the men half to death.”
Mary Weaver just laughed. “Oh Harlan, don’t be silly.”
“Yeah,” agreed Daniel. “She’s liable to scare ‘em completely to death!”
Ebba couldn’t help but grin, even though she wasn’t quite sure what they were talking about. “Do you really think you can make something that will help? This has been a problem of mine for a long time.”
“Common occurrence around here,” Mrs. Weaver said. “You aren’t the first to cough and sneeze around these parts, and you won’t be the last, trust me.”
Ebba’s heart swelled. She wasn’t the only one? Of course she knew that, but she’d never been around people that had things as bad as she did. “Then by all means, don’t let me keep you, Mrs. Weaver.”
“Daniel, why don’t you order up this pretty thing some lunch?” his mother suggested. “The two of you can get acquainted while Harlan and I take care of business.”
“Sure, Ma. I’ll take good care of her.” He met Ebba’s gaze and smiled shyly.
She studied him and had to agree with his first letter. He had beautiful eyes, and for a second she saw a part of his heart staring back. But could that be? They’d only just met. “Does this place have a menu?” she asked him, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Kind of – depends on what day it is. This bein’ Tuesday, it’s beef stew.”
“As long as it’s hot, that’s what matters.”
“Are ya cold?”
“No, it’s just that my throat feels so raw from coughing.” Maybe she shouldn’t have told him that, but it’s not like she hadn’t said so already. And if they were going to marry, better he know now.
“Ya’ll like Hank’s beef stew. It’s not as good as Ma’s or Samijo’s, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
“Who is Samijo?”
“She’s my sister-in-law. She’s married to my brother Arlan. They were gonna come with us to pick ya up, but one of their younguns got hisself a bellyache day before yesterday.”
“Is he still not feeling well?”
“Don’t rightly know. I ain’t seen him since early yesterday mornin’.”
It took Ebba a moment to absorb that. “You mean you’ve been in town since yesterday?”
“Sure have.”
She blinked a few times, unsure of what to say next. Why would they have come to town yesterday when the stage didn’t come until now? Maybe they had a lot of business to attend to and decided to spend the night? “Well,” she said. “I hope he feels better soon.”
“Oh, he will – he always does. But he’s got what ya might call a sensitive stomach. That�
��s what Doc Brown calls it anyway.”
Ebba smiled. “How many children does your brother have?” she asked as Hank approached their table again.
“Three – two boys and a girl.” He turned to Hank. “Could you bring this pretty lady a bowl of your beef stew, please?” Hank grunted some sort of response before he turned and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t mind Hank,” Mr. Weaver said. “He gets grumpy like that ‘bout this time of day. Prob’ly ‘cause all the dishes he’s gonna hafta wash.”
Ebba glanced around. “Doesn’t he have any help?”
“Not right now. Folks ‘round here either can make more money workin’ the orchards, or they’re too young. Not much in between ‘round here at the moment.”
She glanced around the room again and noticed more than one person staring back. She quickly looked down into her coffee cup, picked it up and took a sip. It felt good and took her mind off the curious stares.
“I’m sure glad yer here,” he said.
She raised her eyes to his and swore she got another tiny glimpse into his heart. This was a good man, she could tell. “So am I. It was a long journey.”
“Ma got ya a room at the hotel. She and I’re staying with my Aunt Betsy at the mercantile. Her family owns it.”
There was something strange about what he’d just said. Hadn’t Sheriff Hughes mentioned something about the mercantile? “I thought your cousin did.”
“Harlan must’ve told ya that. Yeah, Matty will one day, but right now his ma and pa do, and he and his wife Charlotte work there.”
“Oh yes, the sheriff did tell me that.”
“Yeah, good old Harlan. Sure is good to see him – been a long time since he’s come to Nowhere.”
“He mentioned coming to your farm. He plans to visit you and your family a lot while he’s here.”
Daniel winked conspiratorially. “Sure he does, on account he’s kinda sweet on Ma.”
“He is?” she said with a smile. “Does she feel the same way about him?”
“Far as we can tell.”
“Did you know he was coming?”
“Oh yeah. Clayton, Harlan’s nephew, told us about a month ago, and Ma’s been fussin’ around the house ever since. She even wore her new favorite hat today.”
Ebba giggled. “I think that’s wonderful. It will be fun to watch them.”
“Yeah, speakin’ of that …” He leaned toward her. “I noticed quite a few folks are watchin’ ya kinda funny-like. I don’t understand why – they all knew I had a mail-order bride comin’. Heck, a lot of them have known for months.”
She shrugged. She didn’t have an answer. “Are folks here normally like this?”
“What do ya mean?”
How was she going to put this? “Well … some of them don’t seem very friendly.”
“People in Nowhere not friendly? That don’t make no sense. Folks around here are some of the friendliest ya’ll ever find. Everyone that comes here says so.” He glanced around the room again. “Now that ya mention it, I do notice a few looks that ain’t … well, normal.”
“That’s what I mean. They seem to be looking at me rather oddly.”
He studied her a moment. “Hey,” he said. “Ya got an accent! I just noticed!”
“So do you,” she pointed out.
“I do?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes.”
He cocked his head to one side. “An accent? Well, how ‘bout that? I never knew I had any kind of an accent. Folks ‘round here all sorta sound alike.”
She laughed at that, then began to cough. He reached over and gently patted her back. “Thank you,” she said, then took another sip of coffee, hoping it would suppress her hacking. It wasn’t as hot as before, but did do the job.
“Ya poor thing, did ya really do that half the trip like Harlan said?”
She nodded. “And then some.”
“Well, don’t ya worry none – Ma is really good at whippin’ up remedies. And if she cain’t, Doc Brown can.”
Hank brought her stew and set it on the table. “You want any?” he asked her intended.
“No, Hank, I’m fine. I’ll just sit here and watch my future bride enjoy hers.”
Ebba blushed. She hadn’t thought about eating in front of him, let alone him watching her do it. Good heavens, what if she spilled something on herself? Having a coughing fit in front of him was bad enough.
“Ya go ahead and eat that there stew, sweetie,” he said. “Ya look like ya need it.”
Ebba half-smiled. He had no idea.
* * *
She was lovely. Not beautiful like his sister-in-law Isabella, who looked as if she’d been carved out of the finest marble and should be put on display. No, his mail-order bride was a different kind of beautiful, one he couldn’t quite put into words.
Daniel watched her take her first bite of stew. She hesitated, blew on a spoonful to cool it, then delicately put it into her mouth. The sight made his head spin. He wasn’t sure he’d make it through the meal.
“It’s good,” she said.
“Hank does all right. His roast beef is tough sometimes …”
“I heard that,” Hank said as he hurried past their table, his arms laden with dirty dishes.
“Ya need some help there, Hank?” Daniel asked.
Hank stopped. “Are you offering, Danny boy?”
“We ain’t leavin’ ‘til tomorrow. And ya do look like ya got yer hands full, kinda literal-like.”
Hank laughed. “If your bride don’t mind, then I sure don’t.”
“Ya don’t mind, do ya, sweetie?”
She looked between him and Hank as he headed for the kitchen. “Maybe I can help.”
“Ya eat first,” he told her. “It looks like it’s helpin’ ya.”
“What do you mean, looks like?”
“Before, ya were kinda pale. I guess Hank’s stew put some color back in yer cheeks. Sit a minute and finish yer lunch. I’m just gonna help him out. Unless ya need me to stay?”
“It’s all right – you go ahead.”
“Thanks, sweetie. This won’t take long.” He smiled, got up and followed Hank into the kitchen. Once there, he stopped for a deep breath.
“That little lady make you nervous, son?” Hank asked.
“I wasn’t expectin’ her to be so pretty. I didn’t think I’d get as lucky as my brothers, ‘specially Calvin. Look who he got!”
“A woman can be the most beautiful thing in the world, but if she’s a harpy, what good is all that beauty?” Hank asked as he dumped dishes into a metal tub. “I’ll wash, you dry.”
“Fair ‘nough. Ya ever been married, Hank?”
“A long time ago, before I ever came out West. Lily was her name. Prettiest thing on two legs.”
“What happened to her?”
“Influenza. I’d never seen anyone cough up so much blood in my life. Terrible business. That’s something I never want to see again.”
“I’m sorry, Hank. I never knew ya had a wife, and here I’ve lived here all my life.”
“It’s not something I talk about. What for? Unless someone comes along and asks.”
Daniel took up a dishrag and waited for Hank to hand him something to dry. “Does anyone else know ya were married before?”
“Mr. Davis does. I told him one day when he was the only one in here, having some coffee and pie.”
“Ya told Mr. Davis and the whole town still don’t know?!” Daniel asked in shock.
“That’s because he obviously never told Mrs. Davis,” Hank commented, handing him a plate.
They spent the next several minutes washing and drying before a knock sounded at the doorway. Daniel turned to see Ebba with her bowl in her hand. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to add one more to your pile, gentlemen.”
Daniel smiled. “The more the merrier, I hear tell. Bring it on in and we’ll take care of it.”
No sooner had she stepped forward than a man took her place. “Hey, Hank, can I get some
coffee and pie?”
“Sure,” Hank said. “Here, Daniel, you take over.” He wiped his hands on his apron and headed into the dining area, coffee pot in hand.
Daniel watched him go, then turned to Ebba. “I’ll take over the washin’ if’n ya’ll take over the dryin’.”
She smiled tentatively. “All right.”
Daniel plunged his hands into the metal tub and flinched. “Hank must’ve just poured a kettle of hot water into this – it’s warmer than I expected.” He scrubbed a plate, dipped it into a smaller tub of water to rinse it, then handed it to her. “I bet the last thing ya expected when ya got off the stage was doin’ dishes.”
“You’re quite right,” she said with a small giggle. “Maybe he won’t charge me for the stew.”
“That’s somethin’ ya wouldn’t have to worry about anyway. I’m payin’ for yer lunch.”
“I thought that might be the case, but on the other hand, if you don’t have to …”
He laughed. “I see what yer saying. Maybe if’n we do these dishes, he won’t charge me for nothin’.”
“One never knows,” she said, her eyes bright. The food had definitely done her some good. Before she’d looked tired, haggard even. But now she seemed right as rain as far as he could tell. Of course, he didn’t really know her yet, but that would be remedied the moment they married – in more ways than one.
Until then, Daniel was content to enjoy doing dishes with his future bride.
Chapter 5
Ebba did her best not to just stare at her intended. Daniel Weaver was much bigger than she’d first thought, now that she found herself next to him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.
But more important than his physique was his character. She had a list of moral attributes she wanted in a husband and hoped he could fill it. Yes, a literal list. She’d worked it up on the train trip west to fill time, revised it here and there along the way, and was now ready to start ticking off Mr. Weaver’s qualifications. She at least wanted to know if she’d get most of what she’d hoped for in a husband.
So far she liked that he’d offered to help Hank with the extra workload. That poor man was trying to do everything. Maybe if her husband’s farm wasn’t too far out of town, she could come help him out a few days a week – perhaps even earn a little extra cash for the family. She wasn’t averse to hard work. Besides, being indoors was better than being outdoors, where the air could send her into a fit of sneezing.
