The Patchwork Bride

by Sandra Dallas

  * * *

  James did indeed return in two weeks. Nell heard the door open, but the café was crowded, and she did not look up. It was hot in the kitchen. Her hair had come undone, and the steam made it curl around her face, spilling into her eyes. Someone had slopped coffee onto her apron, and it had soaked through to her skin. The customers had been hot and sweaty and hard to please. One had berated her because his toast was too dark, and another complained that it was too light. She would be glad when the day was done and she could go home and take a cool bath, then work on her wedding dress. She was setting down platters of ham and eggs when she spotted James. He was stylish in a white linen summer suit with his gold watch chain draped across the vest, and he smiled at her.

  Suddenly Nell forgot about the hard day. She felt cool and clean, the way she had that time in Elitch Gardens when James had said he would like to paint her among the flowers. He smiled at her, and Nell felt a warmth that didn’t come from the hot kitchen.

  A customer waved frantically because Nell had forgotten to bring him syrup, and another made an elaborate gesture and pointed to his cup. Nell ignored them. Instead, she smiled back at James and said, “Good morning, sir, would you like coffee?” When James nodded, she asked, “Do you want cream for your coffee?” James took his coffee black. He had said that first day that he did not want cream, but Nell had not remembered and had asked him about cream the second time he came into the café. Now it was a joke between them, and Nell thought she would ask James that on the morning after their wedding—and every morning after that.

  “I have found a place for us to rent,” he whispered. “It needs only your approval. I am anxious to show it to you.”

  “I can’t leave now. It will have to wait until we close.” Nell leaned close and confided, “Poor Betty. I don’t know where she will find a waitress to replace me.”

  “Why would you quit? You know how much I will be away. You would be bored by yourself.”

  “I thought…”

  “We will talk about it later. First I want you to see the house. It is small, but just right for us and a little one.”

  Despite herself, Nell blushed.

  As soon as the café closed, James took Nell to see the house. It was indeed small and a little shabby. Nell hid her disappointment. Perhaps it was all James could afford. She realized she did not know how much he made. Of course, he was a salesman and had to travel, and she supposed he had heavy expenses. Did his employer pay for his train fare and for his hotel rooms and meals, or did James have to cover those costs from his paycheck? There was so much to learn about her future husband.

  “If you don’t like it, we shall find a more suitable place,” James said.

  “Oh, but I do,” Nell insisted. She was not helpless. She could paper the walls and put up pictures, plant a flower garden, raise vegetables, and even install a chicken coop. Mrs. Bonner would give her the chicks. “It is a honeymoon cottage.”

  She glanced at the tiny fireplace. It was ugly and dirty, but she would scrub it and hang James’s painting of the orange violets over it. She would surprise him, just as he had surprised her by bringing the painting into the café one day. He had placed it in a paper sack, and she thought at first that the sack contained some of his samples. “For you,” he said, a little embarrassed.

  Nell pulled out the painting and gasped. “It’s perfect. God didn’t make orange violets, but you did!”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Of course I like it. I love it!”

  James shrugged. “It’s rather amateurish.”

  “Hardly! It’s finer than the paintings we saw at the art show.”

  Now, she thought, the painting would be just the right touch in their living room.

  “I wanted our home to be private—and not too expensive. I know you are not a spendthrift. And if you are working, we can save up money for our little family,” James said.

  “Of course.” Nell would do what James asked, although she would have preferred staying at home.

  “I have given much thought to this,” he told her, and took a small box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a thin gold wedding band that was very plain. “I have noticed you do not wear much jewelry, so I thought you would want something simple.” He paused. “This was my mother’s.”

  “Oh,” Nell gasped, taking the ring from the box. It was a little worn, but she didn’t mind, since it was a family heirloom. “It is just right.” He slipped the ring onto her finger.

  “Leave it there,” James told her. “There is no need to wait until the ceremony to wear it.” Then he took money from his pocket and handed it to Nell, telling her to buy what she needed for the kitchen. She wanted to ask about the furniture, because the pieces in the house were worn and ugly. But she would not let James think she was careless with his money. She would spend the money she had saved from her waitress job to replace the furnishings. And she would buy nice things. They were to last a lifetime.

  James took Nell’s hand and kissed the finger that wore his ring. Then he kissed the palm of her hand. He put his arms around her and led her to the bed and threw aside the cover. The mattress was tattered and dirty, and he spread his coat over it, then gently pushed Nell onto the bed. “We’ll be married in just a week or two,” James said as he fumbled with her skirt and petticoat. “I do not think I can wait.”

  She should tell him no, Nell thought, but she wanted him too much. Besides, they had already had their wedding night. Nell put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her.

  * * *

  Late one afternoon a few days later, Nell sat under the lilacs in Mrs. Bonner’s garden stitching on the wedding dress. The blooms were Persian lilacs, very dark purple, and fragrant in the breeze that scattered tiny flowers across the pale silk. Nell blew them off, afraid if she scattered them with her hand, they would stain the material. Because the fabric was fragile, she stitched slowly, careful that the needle did not pull the threads. With the wedding only days away, when James returned from a business trip, Nell would have to hurry to finish the dress, would need to stop dreaming and concentrate on her sewing.

  The house was ready. Nell had bought new bedding and a mattress, because the old one was so stained. Bright throws covered the sofa and armchair and would have to do until they bought new furniture. She had scrubbed the grime off the table and chairs, had cleaned the house from top to bottom so that it smelled fresh. She had hung the picture, too. James had yet to see it.

  Nell had even planted rose cuttings and seeds that Mrs. Bonner gave her. With children playing next door and neighbors who were friendly, the house seemed more like a home now, and Nell was beginning to like it. Later, of course, when they had children of their own, they would move into something better, but the cottage would do for a time.

  Since he was away, James had left the decorating to her. He had made other decisions, however. They would be married on the following Sunday in a judge’s quarters. Then, after a wedding supper with Tom and Betty, they would spend their wedding night in the Brown Palace. James had arranged to get a week off from work so that they could take a wedding trip to Kansas, where he would meet Nell’s family. Then he would settle her in the little house. He would spend as much time as he could with Nell, but his job required him to travel. Perhaps when he moved up in the company—and he was being considered for a promotion even then, he confided—he would live in Denver permanently. She would have to understand that she would be alone a good bit of the time. That was another reason she should stay on at Buck & Betty’s. Nell understood. In fact, she agreed with the arrangement, because after she thought about it, she knew she would be lonely all day in the little house without James.

  As she sat in the yard, Nell closed her eyes for a moment, feeling content and happy, perhaps happier than she had ever been. The sound of bees in the lilacs made Nell think of the Kansas farm, the wheat, amber-gold in the sun, the wheat field against the irregular fields of oats and alfalfa, like the pa
tches in a crazy quilt; the red hummingbirds with their bills deep in the orange flowers of the trumpet vine, the cats, proud and arrogant as sultans, hissing at Old Bill as the dog lazed in the grass.

  She pictured her grandfather pumping water over his head to cool off, drenching his shirt and overalls, drops of water clinging to his beard; her grandmother in the leafy shade of the bench beneath the cottonwood tree, shelling bright green peas into a white enamel bowl. Nell missed her family and wished they could come to her wedding. But she would see them soon. She would take James to meet them, and they would love him as she did.

  A shadow passed over her face, and Nell looked up, expecting to see Mrs. Bonner. Instead, a woman holding a box stood in front of her. “Hello,” Nell said, thinking the woman was someone inquiring about a room. Nell would be leaving the boardinghouse in a few days, and her landlady had already put out a ROOMS TO LET sign. “Mrs. Bonner has gone out.”

  “I came to see you,” the woman said.

  Nell put aside the brocade dress. The gown was almost completed. The seams were finished, but there was still fine sewing to be done on it. “Do I know you?” Nell asked, standing.

  “No.”

  A little girl of about two peeped out from behind her mother, and Nell said, “Hello, what’s your name?”

  The girl stared at her and didn’t answer.

  “You’re a very pretty little girl. You must have a pretty name.”

  The girl still didn’t reply, and the woman moved as if hiding the child behind her skirts.

  “I do not know that Mrs. Bonner will allow a child, but yours is so sweet. Perhaps she’ll reconsider.”

  The woman shrugged. She was younger than Nell, but her face was worn and a little hard, her eyes black, almost beady. “I don’t need a room. Like I said, I come because of you.”

  Nell was confused. She’d never seen the woman before and couldn’t imagine what she wanted. Was she looking for a job at Buck & Betty’s? Nell didn’t think so. “Why are you here?”

  “Are you the one marrying James Hamilton?”

  Nell smiled. “Why, yes.” She indicated her sewing. “This is my wedding dress. Beautiful, is it not?”

  “So he give that material to you, too. He tell you he likes violets, did he?” the woman replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “Who are you?” Nell demanded. She reached for a handkerchief—James’s handkerchief—and touched it to her brow.

  “My name is Emily Hamilton.”

  Nell frowned. “You’re James’s sister, then? I know two of his sisters died, Beatrice and Anna. He never mentioned a third one.”

  “Oh, is that what he said? He loves to tell that story. Got you all dewy-eyed, didn’t it? Made you want to give him comfort. He told it to me, too, the scamp. That’s why her name is Beatrice.” She indicated the little girl. “Fact is, he never had no sisters that died, because he never had no sisters. Only brothers, and they’re no better than he is.” She paused, and her face grew hard. “I’m his wife.”

  “His what?” Nell gripped the arm of the chair. Her knees were shaky, and she needed to sit, but she did not want the woman looking down at her.

  “His wife. Me and James was married three years ago. He promised I’d be the last one. I made that hanky for him, red cross-stitch with his initials—if they are his initials. His brothers got a different last name. Maybe he made his up.”

  Nell dropped the handkerchief. “James is divorced?”

  “He tell you that?”

  “No.” James had never mentioned being married, and Nell had never asked. She’d just assumed …

  “Oh, we’re married, all right, even if maybe it’s not legal. There was never no divorce.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The woman set down the box and arched her back. She was pregnant. “I guess you don’t, do you? Well, the truth of it is that’s because James already had him a wife when we got married, two of them, maybe more for all I know.”

  The idea was monstrous, and Nell said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “Ask him, why don’t you. Ask him why he travels around so much. He has to visit Agnes in Wyoming and Mary Beth in Idaho. I think there’s another in Utah, but I don’t know for sure. He has plenty of money, but with all us wives, there won’t be much for you. I bet he wants you to keep on working. He’s a big spender until after the wedding. Then it’s root, hog, or die.” She looked down at Nell’s hand clutching the dress. “That silk’s the same he gave me for my wedding dress. Didn’t you ever wonder about the pin marks in the pattern? I put them there. And that old ring you’ve got on. Did he say it was his mother’s? It’s mine. I knew when it disappeared he was strutting around again.” She took the little girl’s hand. “This is his, and this one, too.” She pointed to her stomach. The woman stretched again, then sank onto a chair. Nell sat down, too.

  “If what you say is true—and I’m not saying I believe you—why would he marry me?”

  “Oh, he can’t help himself. He keeps falling in love with women. And children,” the woman continued. “He’d have a hundred of them if he could. The last wife before me was a widow with two kiddies. He thought she was the gold mine.” Emily gave a laugh that was more of a bark. “I bet he rescued you from something. He likes to do that. Me, he found me when my ma died. I was an orphan. It makes him feel good, helping women like that, makes them beholden. Me and Agnes talked about it. She got knocked down by a wagon, got her arm broke. He was standing on the street and took her to a doctor. I bet he was real nice and didn’t rush you, didn’t try to take advantage of you, didn’t move too fast, but then … Well, you ain’t a virgin no more is my guess.”

  Nell studied the woman a long time. She might have been attractive once, but she was too worn now to be pretty. “Did you know about the other wives when you married him, I mean if what you’re saying is true?”

  “Oh, it’s true, all right. I’m thinking you know now it’s true. I knew about them, and I didn’t care, because, like I say, he promised I’d be the last. He’s a yellow dog, but I love him. Then you come along. I knowed it when he painted that picture with the orange flowers, and then it was gone.”

  Nell cringed to think how she had already hung the picture in the little house.

  “Truth be told, I despise you. You got no right to take him away from me. The others, they don’t care about you, but I do.”

  “How did you find me? How did you know?”

  “I seen a letter you wrote him. It come in the mail, and I had a feeling, so I opened it. I shouldn’t have. James don’t let nobody mess with his mail. He’d strike me down if he knew.”

  Nell remembered there had been a return address on the package of silk James had sent, and she had written to thank him.

  “That letter was wrote real pretty, with all them big words. I burned it. He never seen it.” She stood. “I come to tell you so’s you’ll know, so’s you’ll quit him. But if you don’t, well, I brung you a cake to welcome you to the family. Us wives has got to stick together. You’ll be needing us.” She smirked at Nell then. “Don’t you dare tell James I was here.” She set the box on the chair next to Nell, then took the little girl’s hand and was gone.

  Nell sat for a long time, staring at the wedding dress. Was the woman some crazy person, or was what she had said true? Nell pondered the question. Then, slowly, she realized the woman had indeed spoken the truth. Although they were engaged, Nell knew nothing about James, not who his employer was or how much he made or even where he lived. He had explained his absences as sales trips, but he’d never said where he had gone. The night he proposed he’d told her he wanted there to be no secrets between them, but James’s life, she realized now, was all about secrets.

  Nell began to shake, and she put her arms around herself. She had been too anxious to marry, too easily taken in. Why hadn’t she asked him to explain his long absences? She had simply accepted that they were sales trips. Why had he refused to tell her about himself
or his family? Perhaps all this explained why he didn’t care about what she had confessed, about what had happened with Buddy. Nell put her hands to her face and began to cry. She had thought they would have a wonderful life together. He was so kind and would have made a good husband and father. For a second, she wondered if she might go ahead and marry him. She had met no one else. If the other wives could accept each other, could she? She loved James. Despite what she had just discovered, she still loved him. But the idea of marrying him now sickened her.

  She looked down at the box Emily had left, and opened it. Inside was a chocolate cake, a pretty cake with thick, dark frosting. She could give it to Mrs. Bonner to serve for dinner, but the idea repulsed her. She would never eat that cake, and neither would anyone else. She picked up the cardboard box with the cake inside and threw it into the chicken yard. The chickens would eat the cake as well as the box. There would be nothing left of either one.

  Then she wadded up the wedding dress and went to her room. She would have to face James, ask him why he would do such a thing, and listen to his pretty words as he tried to talk her into marrying him. She knew he would do that. Even with the other wives, he loved her, she believed. Then she would have to tell Betty, who had been right all along about James. And she would let Mrs. Bonner know that the wedding was off, give back the delicate clothing the landlady had made for her.

  * * *

  Nell did not go down for supper that evening, and later Mrs. Bonner brought her a tray. The old lady’s face was wet with tears, and Nell wondered if somehow she had discovered the truth about James, knew there would be no wedding and had come to offer comfort.

  Nell was so immersed in her own sorrow that at first she didn’t respond to Mrs. Bonner’s sadness, but when the old woman said nothing about James, Nell asked what the trouble was.

  “I am sorry to tell you, but you loved them.”