Gabrielle_Bride of Vermont

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Gabrielle_Bride of Vermont Page 9

by Emily Claire


  “But, why?” she questioned. “They’re gentle—.”

  He looked over his shoulder and silenced her with a look.

  “Just don’t. Do you understand?” he asked firmly.

  She nodded and stopped walking. She didn’t understand at all, but his look was clear. There was to be no discussion about it.

  Gabrielle stared after him until he’d gone into the barn. She hurried into the house, closing the door firmly behind her and began to get lunch onto the table.

  She thought about what he’d said, and grew angrier by the minute. Slamming things about, she began muttering to herself. “How dare he? I am not a child. I’m a grown woman who has been doing exactly what I want for nearly fifteen years. If he thinks he can tell me what to do and what not to do, then we’re just going to have ourselves a little talk. If I want to ride a horse, then I’ll ride a horse!”

  She heard a tiny sound and spun around. Buck looked as though he was tip-toeing towards the door, reaching out for the handle.

  “Buck! I, um, I didn’t know you were in here,” she said, startled to see him.

  He jumped. “Oh, sorry. I saw you out walking earlier. I came in and got a bath. Don’t let me disturb you, or—.” He shuffled, obviously uncomfortable. “I don’t want to stop you from whatever you’re doing.”

  Gabrielle felt the color rise in her cheeks. “You’re not disturbing me. I was grumbling to myself.” She rolled her eyes and smirked. “And, I can do that anytime.”

  He relaxed a little and laughed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  “You probably won’t have a chance to forget. Unfortunately, I do it a lot, and it’s just sort of how I work things out,” she explained.

  “You sounded kind of mad, so I thought I’d just give you some space and go back out to the barn,” he said graciously.

  “Well, you might as well stay put now. Your father will be in shortly, and I’ve got a meal ready. You hungry?”

  "I reckon my pa hasn’t told you much about me. I’m always hungry! What can I do help?”

  “Just pour us some water, please, and set the napkin basket on the table.”

  Boone came in five minutes later, surprised yet relieved to see Buck awake and inside. Having another person at the table might make it a little less awkward after he’d spoken so directly to his wife.

  Gabrielle set the final serving bowl onto the table and sat down. She saw Buck bow his head in unison with his father and did likewise.

  There was a pause. No one said a word. Keeping her head bowed, she raised her eyes slowly to look at her husband. She found Boone grinning at her and watched him glance at Buck, who finally raised his up his head, with eyes questioning the delay.

  Boone laughed. “Your turn to pray, boy.”

  Afterwards, Buck dove into his lunch with relish. Halfway through, he paused. “This is really great. It’s nice to come home to woman food.”

  Gabrielle chuckled. “That’s just what your father calls it. Makes me curious about which of the two of you did all the cooking.”

  “As soon as I got old enough, I did a lot of it. I sort of had to,” said Buck.

  “Why’s that,” Gabrielle asked.

  “Man does not live by scrambled eggs and bread alone,” Buck said, taking a huge bite.

  They ate in companionable silence for a moment before Boone asked Buck where he’d been and what he’d been doing since he left home the previous summer.

  Buck spent half an hour telling stories of his adventures while traveling about with various musicians. They all laughed together.

  “All in all, I learned quite a bit and I improved my abilities. But I missed being around people whose actions I could predict.”

  Boone asked his son to explain further. “I figured out that I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life out here in the country. I didn’t know there were so many people out there who seem to be lacking—, I don’t know, in stability or something. Lots of men gambled away their money in saloons. I saw their women coming in and practically hauling them off. It wasn’t pretty. I hated playing in the saloons,” he said regretfully.

  “What did you do when you weren’t playing in them?” asked Gabrielle.

  “It felt like we mostly traveled, but we’d stay some places for a few days. I actually found out people would pay a little money for guitar lessons, so I’d set up outside a store or somewhere like that and put out a sign. I had a few customers here and there. I reckon that was my favorite part.”

  Boone was silent for a moment before asking another question. “What made you decide to come back home?”

  Gabrielle waited to hear Buck’s response. She’d wanted to ask the same thing but didn’t want either of the men to think she didn’t want Buck living with them.

  “Home,” he said.

  “I don’t understand,” said Boone.

  “I realized I didn’t have a home. And if the best part of my traveling around was playing a few public events, then it just wasn’t much of a life at all. I especially didn’t like not knowing where I’d be sleeping sometimes. I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of life. I guess I’m saying that I realized I needed to have a regular place, and to be around friends. I came back to establish a music school or a store, maybe. I think I’ll do that right here over Coltonville, starting next week.”

  Boone and Gabrielle exchanged slight smiles before Boone chuckled. “It’s kind of hard to just start a school, or any business for that matter. It took me years to build my saddle-making business, and the horse raising and training just sort of grew out of that.”

  “Well, Pa, I’ve learned a lot from watching you over the years. I’m pretty sure I’ll be successful,” he said confidently.

  “I’ve no doubt you’ll make it work, I’m just cautioning you to take it a step at a time and make a plan, all right?”

  Buck nodded as he stood up. “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on that. The food was sure good—,” he said to Gabrielle. “Er, what do I call you?”

  “Well, I’m not your mother, so that won’t work,” she said, thinking.

  “Mrs. Dillingham?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows.

  She shook her head. “Too formal. Just call me by name, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say,” he retorted obediently. “Uh, I just have one little problem with that, though.”

  Curiously, Boone and Gabrielle both looked at him.

  Buck’s sheepish grin grew as he looked at his step-mother. “It was pretty late when I came in this morning, and things were a bit uncomfortable. Well, what I’m saying is… is that I don’t rightly recall your name.”

  “Good gracious,” Gabrielle stood up and picked up a couple of serving bowls. “It runs in the family!”

  Buck stared, a question clearly on his mind, but hesitated. He looked to Boone for an explanation, but Boone hung his head low, shamefaced.

  She lightly backhanded Boone on the shoulder as she stepped over to the table for more dishes, “Your father couldn’t remember my name for the first day or two of our marriage!”

  “Pa!” exclaimed Buck. “You didn’t forget her name, did you?”

  Boone whistled quietly. “I think you’ve just exposed my first marital blunder, Gabrielle.” He looked at Buck, “Truth be told, son, I didn’t know what her name was during the ceremony either.”

  “Aw, Pa! Tell me you’re joking!”

  A look at Gabrielle shaking her head back and forth, with one hand on her hip, and Buck knew it to be true.

  He looked at his father. “Where’d you two meet? How long have you been married?”

  His eyes shifted to her. “Where are you from? I know I’d remember if I’d seen you around these parts before.” He fired one curious question after another.

  She laughed at him. “You want to know it all, right here and now, don’t you?”

  “The smartest individual is the informed individual. The old man is my father, after all. And, I’m pretty curious.”

>   Gabrielle looked at Boone, slighting raising her palms upward and shrugging. He responded by shrugging and nodding back at her.

  “Well, I spent my first sixteen years or so growing up in Vermont. I moved to Massachusetts to start working in a textile factory. I lived in a large city, with various roommates until September, when the mill burned down. Unexpected circumstances led me to a—,” she paused slightly, “to an acquaintance’s friend of a friend.” She shook her head. “That part’s kind of hard to explain…” her voice trailed off, and she looked at Boone.

  Buck looked to his father, waiting for him to take up the story.

  Boone cleared his throat. “I’d been thinking for a while, especially after you left, Buck, how I’d like to have someone to share my life. After I prayed about it, I talked to Preacher Clyde. Then, he prayed about it and wrote to a friend of his in Massachusetts by the name of Elizabeth Miller. So, Miss Miller wrote to me and told me about this lady right here, and I invited her to come down to Texas and marry me.”

  “A mail-order bride? Really?” Astonished, Buck looked back and forth between the two of them. “That’s something! Boy howdy, Pa, I sure didn’t see that one coming. You don’t seem the type of man who’d do something so, um, well… something so daring as that.”

  “I’d definitely say the Lord had His hand on the arrangements. It wouldn’t have happened without Him causing things to come together like He did,” he said, looking directly at Gabrielle.

  “I best get to these dishes,” she said, swinging around quickly and starting her work.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Boone watched his wife closely. “Looks like you’ve got the hang of it now, Breezy. You’re a lot more confident than the last time you handled the reins. I’m proud of you,” Boone encouraged. “You’re a quick study. I’d guess that most city folks would need a lot more time and practice than you. I’d have no problem with you going into town alone now that you’ve figured it out.”

  “I guess I had a good teacher. Thanks for showing me.” She smiled at him, noticing his eyelashes for the hundredth time since she’d become his wife.

  “My pleasure.” He touched the brim of his hat, gallantly. “Are you warm enough?” He tucked the lap quilt tightly around their feet and legs.

  “Is my shivering that obvious?”

  “Yeah, it sure is.” Boone put his arm around her shoulders as he scooted closer to her. “That should help. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She did mind. Very much. But she was freezing and having him this close helped to block the wind a little. She thought about their marriage agreement. He was acting as a friend and she knew there was nothing romantic about him sitting so close to her. She was frustrated with herself for being so conscious of his presence. Making up her mind to appreciate his gesture as an act of friendship, she was able to relax and enjoy the ride into town.

  “I don’t mind. You’re helping me to stay thawed out!” Gabrielle allowed herself to snuggle in just enough to feel comfortable.

  “I’m going to drop you off at the mercantile and make a trip over to the bank to see an old friend for a few minutes. If you don’t mind picking up the items on our list, that is.”

  “Of course. That’ll be fine. I need to stop in at the post office and pick up a few special items for our first Christmas dinner together.” Gabrielle smiled up at him.

  Boone cleared his throat. “I like the sound of that. Have I told you lately that I’m glad you’re here?”

  She grinned. “Yesterday. But I don’t mind hearing it.”

  He drove up to the mercantile and hopped out of the buggy, hurrying around to her side and raising his arms to lift her down. His hands lingered for a second around her waist before she thanked him and stepped back.

  Boone reached into his pocket and handed her an envelope. “There’s plenty of money in here for the items we listed, plus a little more. I thought you might like to have some extra to spend for Christmas gifts, or whatever.”

  “Christmas? I nearly forgot! That’s this week, isn’t it?” She winked at him as she took the envelope and hurried toward the mercantile.

  Boone shook his head. “Of course you didn’t forget. What was I thinking? You’re about as organized as anyone I’ve ever met. I can’t find hardly any of my collections!” he called after her.

  Gabrielle stepped into the mercantile and removed her coat, folding it over her arm. She greeted the woman behind the counter. “Good morning, Mrs. Thomas. How are you?”

  Ernestine Thomas turned as Gabrielle approached her. “Oh, hello Mrs. Dillingham. It’s good to see you again. How are you settling into country living?”

  Gabrielle smiled. “I’m very well, thank you. Did Boone tell you I was a city girl?” she asked.

  “Oh no, dear. I haven’t seen him since the two of you were here last time. You just have a city-girl air about you, that’s all. Your lovely dresses don’t look like what most women around here wear.”

  Gabrielle looked down at her dress and her shoes and then back up at Mrs. Thomas.

  “Oh, my dear, don’t look upset. You’re beautiful! And your clothes are lovely. It’s just obvious that you’re not from around here. Now, don’t mind me. Let’s see that list. How can I help you?”

  They made it through the list and had a small pile of items stacked onto the counter. Gabrielle looked through the store, not exactly sure of what she was looking for, and browsed through a small barrel of items that Mrs. Thomas had told here were basically junk.

  She found a harmonica that looked like it had never been taken out of its box and purchased it as a gift for Buck.

  I should just buy this whole barrel for Boone! That’d be the best thing for a collector.

  She saw something that gave her an idea for the perfect gift. She’d find some kind of board or frame and create a collection collage, mounting one or two items from each collection. And I can store the rest in the barn!

  She smiled to herself. That was definitely the best idea she’d had in a long time.

  Gabrielle paid for her purchases and took them outside. Boone was just coming to the buggy as she was placing her items in the space behind the seat.

  “Got something for ya,” he said as he waved an envelope just out of her reach. “You’re quite popular, you know. Two letters in less than two weeks!” He blew out his breath, making a whistling sound. As she tried to take the letter from him, he stuck his hands behind his back, teasing her.

  “Boone! Give me that now, or…”

  “Or what?” he said, laughing at her.

  “Or I won’t cook for you tonight!” She smiled confidently and stretched out her hand.

  “You win.”

  Just then, two men sauntered toward them. “Hey Boone,” said one of them.

  “Howdy boys.” He walked over to chat with them after helping Gabrielle into the buggy.

  Thrilled that Boone might visit with the men for a moment, she eagerly opened her letter.

  My dear friend Gabrielle,

  I miss you and the others so much! You all weigh heavy on my mind as I worry for you and pray for you daily.

  Wisconsin is cold. By the time I arrived here in late October, all of the trees had shed their leaves, but my new family tells me that I missed the beauty of fall by arriving when I did. It does seem to be a pretty place. I live right next to Lake Superior, and the beauty of the lake reminds me of the Atlantic Ocean, so while I'm homesick for my friends, I'm not as homesick for Massachusetts as I expected to be.

  I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. I pray that you will find peace through God's love. I know that you tend to judge all men by that evil step-father of yours, but you must remember that your future husband is not the one who has treated you or your mother so abominably.

  My husband is a good man, but I tend to get frustrated with him. I'm so used to being the one who is in charge of things that I find myself not recognizing his role as the man I must answer to every day. Now that I've put the house to
rights and caught up on the mending, I find myself bored with nothing to do.

  My new step-sons are something of a challenge. Why, one of them even persists in calling me a frog on a regular basis. Hopefully I'll be able to convince him that's unacceptable before too terribly long.

  I'm so happy you made the decision to contact Elizabeth Miller. She is a good woman. I hope you find Texas and your new husband to be everything you could ask for. Please remember to hold your tongue when you become angry and give him the respect he deserves.

  I pray for you every day.

  Much love,

  Roberta

  Boone climbed up beside her and handed her the reins. “You have a very contented look on your face,” he commented.

  She beamed. “The letter is from Roberta, the other roommate I’ve mentioned. And, yes, I’m feeling so happy to have heard from all three of my closest friends. Just knowing they’ve all found a place to settle takes a burden off my mind. After all, they’ve been my family for several years now.”

  “What about your parents? Weren’t you close to them at all?” asked Boone.

  Gabrielle shook her head. “Yes and no. I don’t remember my father at all. I loved my mother ‘til the day she died.”

  “What about your step-father. You mentioned him the other day. Were you close?”

  Gabrielle shook her head adamantly. “No! Never ever.”

  The tension in her voice was apparent.

  “So, you were close to your mother?”

  She nodded.

  “Momma took good care of me for most of my childhood. She was always there for me when I was a little girl. We were dirt poor, but we had each other. She was all I needed back then.

  “After the mill closed down, I contacted her. She told me her husband was gone and so I went to live with her in Vermont. I thought that would be the wisest thing to do while I searched for a job.”

 

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