It made Cina chuckle to picture an elderly woman—well, she supposed Miss Viola was elderly—telling that tall cowboy what to do. But from what little she’d just seen of Mr. Redburn, she thought he’d be the sort to listen to his old aunt.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Violet sighed. “Well, first I’m going to get some sleep. Then we’ll see what happens tomorrow. It’s possible that he’ll have everything worked out and organized, and he’ll know that he’s supposed to fall madly in love with me. If he doesn’t—well, we’ll just take it one day at a time.” She shrugged. “In the meantime, thank you for not mentioning it. I don’t want to force it on him, and I also think it might make things awkward with the other girls.”
“I won’t say a thing.”
The girls pulled back the covers and climbed in. Cina’s entire body hurt as she tried to relax—she’d been so tense that it was difficult for her muscles to let go. After a few minutes, though, she was able to sink into the mattress, and it was a pure delight.
She thought she’d fall right asleep, but instead, her thoughts began to churn. Had she been crazy to leave her aunt’s comfortable Alabama home to come to this, the home of a stranger—and even worse, a dead stranger? Now she was in the care of the dead stranger’s nephew, someone she hadn’t even known existed, and she was supposed to trust that he had her best interests at heart? How could he when he hadn’t even been expecting them to arrive that night?
He’d tried to mask his surprise and to get things under control as quickly as possible, but the man was flustered—no doubt about it. That made her wonder—had he known they were coming, but not the day? Or had he not known they were coming at all? She suspected it was the latter.
Should she leave and go back to Aunt Zina’s? It wasn’t Mr. Redburn’s fault that his aunt had passed away, of course, and it wasn’t his fault that he was so unprepared for them. She imagined that everything had come as a shock and that he was reeling from the sudden death. And now ten young women on top of that—ten very opinionated, emotional young women at that. She didn’t envy him, not one little bit.
She’d stay, she supposed, and see what happened. Her agreement was with Miss Viola, however, and not with Mr. Redburn, so she guessed that if she was too miserable, she could get out of it and leave. With that thought, knowing this wasn’t ironclad, she was finally able to drift off.
Cina sat on the front porch, watching people pass by and wondering how long it would take her to meet everyone and start to feel a member of this community. She’d never lived anywhere but her little town in Florida, and she didn’t know how to begin making new friends in a place where she was the stranger.
She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to fend off the headache that was building. The day had not gotten off to a good start. They’d all been awakened at an unearthly hour by a call to breakfast—a horrendous clanging sound made with a triangle just like on a ranch. The cook turned out to be the older gentleman from the night before—Clarence McGruder, who went by the unusual nickname of “Beans.” He’d fed them a nice breakfast, but utterly undrinkable coffee, and a couple of the girls took him in hand and showed him how they preferred it. Cina got the distinct impression that he didn’t like anyone telling him how to run his kitchen, but he seemed to accept their tutorial with decent humor.
They finished up their meal and helped clean up the kitchen, then Cina went back upstairs and put her things away. That didn’t take very long, and she had to pause and wonder that the sum total of her entire life could be fit into two trunks and a carpet bag. It seemed like so little to show for all her efforts at creating an existence for herself. Well, when she married, she’d set to work making more of a home, and then she’d have some cookware and dishes and books. Lots of books. She’d replace everything she’d had to leave behind, and she’d get several more. She wanted her home to be filled with books.
And she hoped her new husband would feel the same way.
She sighed again as she watched a man and woman stroll past the house arm in arm. Somewhere in this town was the man Miss Viola had arranged for her. Mr. Redburn had promised to explain everything after breakfast, but he’d left, and they were all just as clueless as they’d been the night before. Maybe she should start going door-to-door and asking each man she met if he was her intended. It might not be the right way to go about it, but then again, it might be quicker than waiting for Mr. Redburn to sort it out.
As she sat there, she could hear the voices of the other girls as they moved back and forth in the front room and hallway. They had also chosen to spend some time unpacking and getting settled—it was a sign of faith on all their parts, to be sure. But then she heard a sound that wasn’t a voice—it was music, and it was simply the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. She rose from her chair and went inside to see who was playing the upright piano in the parlor, and drew up short to see that it was Myrakle.
Who was deaf.
Cina and the other girls looked at each other in wonder. How was it possible? When Myrakle finished, she seemed a little embarrassed at the attention, but pleased, too. She explained that she had a heightened sense for music since she’d lost her hearing as a child. Cina didn’t fully understand her explanation, but that didn’t matter—she’d been treated to something lovely that afternoon, and she’d always remember it.
When Mr. Redburn finally came home, he announced that he was ready to discuss the girls’ futures, and they eagerly met with him downstairs. Answers—they all needed some answers. How could they possibly make any plans or be ready to marry when they had no idea what to expect?
Mr. Redburn greeted them and thanked them for gathering. He had a ledger on hand, and also a rope . . . A rope? What on earth?
He walked up and down the length of the room, examining the girls and making little thinking sounds. Then he held up the rope and began measuring the girls with it. Cina noticed for the first time that it had little knots tied in it to indicate the measurement marks, like a ruler.
“What in the world is he doing?” Adeline murmured out of the corner of her mouth.
“I’m not sure, but if he brings that rope near me—well, I’m not sure what I’d do, but no one’s going to take my measurements,” Abigail replied. “That’s so humiliating.”
Apparently, Helena wasn’t amused by it either, and told him so as he measured her jaw. Violet shook her head.
“Mr. Redburn, these young ladies aren’t cows. You can’t assess them as if they were part of your herd.”
“I don’t see why not. Matching people is exactly the same thing as breeding cows—you’re looking for those that suit, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but at the same time, no. May we talk about this?”
Cina could tell that Violet was trying hard to be patient with him, and she felt sorry for her roommate. Violet’s job was to assist Mr. Redburn in his business, but he didn’t seem too keen on the idea of having a helper, and he especially didn’t want to hear what Violet had to say. His idea was to invite the men of town to come over and see who best measured up with whom—literally. Her idea was quite a lot more natural and focused on feelings and similar interests. Cina was hoping beyond hope that Violet’s method won out in the end because Mr. Redburn’s sounded just awful and would send Cina running for the hills.
After hearing that Mr. Redburn’s update wasn’t much of an update at all, but rather, an admission that he needed more time, Cina decided to take a walk. She felt that they were all being as patient as they could, and some had more patience than others. The saving grace in the situation, as far as she could tell, was Violet. She was the reason why Cina was willing to see how everything played out. She liked Mr. McGruder and she felt sorry for Mr. Redburn, but that wasn’t enough to keep her there. It was Violet’s determination to help get everything figured out that kept Cina from heading straight to the train station for her return ticket.
Up ahead, she saw the mercantile. She hadn’t brought any money with her
, but she thought it would be nice to step inside and see what sorts of things were available. The man behind the counter greeted her with a smile and introduced himself as Newt Jacobson.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobson. I’m Cina Fairbanks.”
The smile on the man’s face grew wider. “Are you one of Chance Redburn’s new young ladies, Miss Fairbanks?”
“Yes, I am.” Although, the way he phrased it made it sound a little suspect. “I’m here to be matched,” she added, hoping that sounded a little better.
“He was in here telling me about your group. I imagine you’ve had quite a long trip to get here—welcome to Bent.”
“Thank you. I hope you don’t mind if I just browse today—I left the house without my bag.”
Mr. Jacobson made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “Browse all you like, and if you find something you just can’t live without, I’ll start you an account.”
That was a kind offer. “I appreciate that. Do you have any books?”
“On the next aisle down toward the end.”
She gave him a nod and a smile, then went where she was directed. Sometimes she wondered if her pull toward books was so strong, she’d be able to find them even without directions—she couldn’t help but seek them out first whenever she went to a new place.
The store had a decent-sized selection, and she ran her finger over the spines. Someday . . . someday she’d have every book on display. She’d figure out how—she hoped her husband would be generous when it came to things like that. She didn’t care about jewelry or fancy clothes—she just wanted lots and lots of books.
She heard the door to the shop open, and a few sets of small feet came running across the wooden floor. Two little girls rounded the shelves and nearly plowed right into her.
“Oh!” The smaller one backed up, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry!”
“That’s Summer. She likes to run,” the older girl said. “I’m always telling her, ‘Summer, don’t run!’ but she doesn’t listen to me.”
Cina smiled, having seen both girls running equally as fast. “It’s all right—no harm done.”
“Mr. Jacobson said he’d have new books this week. Is it true? Does he have new books?”
“I don’t know—this is the first time I’ve been here.” Cina moved aside so the girls could see the shelves. “Do these look new?”
“Yes!” The girls settled down on the floor and began perusing the children’s books like they were starving for new stories. They were so adorable, both leaning over the books with their braids falling over their shoulders.
Cina moved back farther so she wouldn’t be interrupting them. She could continue looking later—they obviously had very serious business to conduct.
The store had nearly everything she could imagine wanting, at least as she was getting settled. There was plenty of yarn and fabric in all different colors, a wide variety of candy—she had a bit of a sweet tooth—and there were some ready-made clothes in the back, too. She’d been thinking about getting a new blouse or two, especially as she was getting ready to court. All her clothes looked so . . . schoolteacherish. This thought made her feel angry all over again—Mrs. Mabel Johnson and her ridiculous claims.
She’d noticed the sound of two men talking up front, but hadn’t paid it much attention until she heard one of the voices call out, “Girls? Did you find something?”
“Yes, Daddy!” Two little pairs of feet ran back across the floor. “We’d like these!”
“Add them to my tab, Newt,” the man said with a chuckle. “And I’ve been meaning to ask if you know anyone who does tutoring.”
Cina nearly dropped the scented soap she’d picked up. He was looking for a tutor?
He continued. “My girls aren’t fitting in at school as well as they could, and I thought some tutoring might help.”
Oh. So there already was a schoolteacher in town. That was disappointing to hear, but she could certainly inquire about tutoring. She put the soap back and stepped around the end of the shelf. “Pardon me, but I couldn’t help overhearing. I’m qualified to tutor.”
When the man at the counter turned to look at her, she couldn’t breathe for a moment. His eyes were so startlingly blue, they didn’t seem quite real. He wore a uniform, and everything about him was spit and polish. And impressive.
“Miss Fairbanks, this is Captain Richard Spencer,” Mr. Jacobson said. “He just moved here—stationed at Fort Wise down the road a couple of miles.”
The captain touched the brim of his hat. “Pleasure, Miss Fairbanks. These are my girls—Madeline, who’s eight, and Summer, who’s six.”
“We’ve met,” Cina replied, smiling at the girls, who giggled. Then she turned back to the captain. “I’ve just moved here myself. I have two years’ experience as a public schoolteacher, and I’m very fond of reading too.” She nodded toward the books on the counter. The girls had chosen two each, and it pleased her to see that their father had purchased them without a second thought. That meant he cared about their education.
“Please, Daddy?” Madeline tugged on his pant leg. “Can we give her a try, Daddy? She looks so nice.”
The captain chuckled. “Yes, she does look nice. Where do you live, Miss Fairbanks? Would it be convenient for you if the girls came over tomorrow afternoon after school and we could see how well you work together?”
“Of course. I currently live at the Redburn place. I’m a bride to match waiting to be matched.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that term.”
“Mr. Redburn is a matchmaker—well, his aunt was a matchmaker, but she passed away and left the business to him. It’s rather a long story, but the gist of it is, I’m to be matched with one of his clients. Until then, I have lots of free time on my hands, and if things work out between us, I’m sure I can continue tutoring after my marriage. If you want me to,” she rushed on.
He chuckled again. “All right, I’ll bring the girls over tomorrow. It would be around this same time, if that suits.”
“Yes, it does.” It suited very well—it gave her something to think about instead of the constant question of her wedding. If Mr. Redburn was going to take forever to get things sorted out, it would be good for her to stay as busy as possible so she didn’t fret about it.
“We’ll see you then. Come along, girls.”
He touched the brim of his hat again, and the children each gave her a little wave as they left the store, their books tucked under an arm. Cina smiled as she watched them go. What an adorable family.
“You’ll like Captain Spencer,” Mr. Jacobson said. “He’s a fair man, mild and humorous. He’s also firm, which the men need out at the fort.”
“That’s good to know. As a tutor, though, I’m more concerned about liking my students, and I think we’ll get along fine.” More than fine, if her senses were correct. She already felt connected to the little girls through their shared love of reading.
“I’m glad you were all able to meet up. That worked out rather well.” Mr. Jacobson’s eyes twinkled. “Have a piece of candy complimentary. I noticed you eyeing the selection earlier.”
“I do take my candy very seriously,” she replied. “I’m impressed by the variety you have here.”
“Something for everyone. What’ll it be?”
“Licorice,” she said without hesitation, and he fetched her a long rope. It would be just the thing to snack on as she walked back to the Redburn place.
“Thank you so much,” she said when he handed it to her. “And I’ll be back—with my purse.”
He chuckled. “Have a good day, Miss Fairbanks. See you soon.”
Chapter Four
As soon as Cina returned to the house, she went looking for Mr. Redburn. She found him sitting at his desk in the office, scowling at some papers spread out in front of him. She tapped lightly on the door, which stood slightly ajar.
“Mr. Redburn?” she said when he didn’t respond immediately.
“I was at the mercantile just now and met Captain Spencer from the fort. He’s looking for a tutor for his daughters after school, and I wondered if I could use a room in the house for that purpose.” As she said the words, she wondered if there was anything in her agreement that would keep her from taking on outside interests. She didn’t remember any such thing, but then again, she and Miss Viola hadn’t covered many of the details. They’d been having too much fun discussing this, that, and the other thing.
“Shouldn’t be a problem as long as it doesn’t interfere with courting,” Mr. Redburn replied. “You can use the parlor.” He paused. “They aren’t coming today, are they? I’ve asked the men in town to stop by so we can start making matches.”
“No, they’ll be coming tomorrow.” Her stomach gave a little flip. “You still don’t know who we’re supposed to marry?”
“I’m afraid my aunt took that information with her to the grave. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, though—I just need to find out which men paid their fee and then line them up with you gals. I estimate we’ll have some weddings in a few weeks.”
That sounded hopeful, and yet . . . still too much uncertainty. Cina forced a smile. “When will they be here?”
“Oh, about any time.”
“I’ll go freshen up, then.” She stood. “Thank you for letting me use the parlor, Mr. Redburn. I’ll try to stay out of everyone’s way if they have suitors over.”
“Much appreciated.” He’d responded, but she could tell that he was already immersed in his papers again, and she left the room quietly so she wouldn’t be interrupting him again.
She went upstairs to freshen up, but only a few minutes went by before the girls were all asked to come back downstairs to meet the men Mr. Redburn had invited.
“I hope this isn’t a disaster,” Violet said as they walked out of their room. “I spent quite a lot of time with Mr. Redburn this morning trying to get him to see reason, but he’s still not coming around to my way of thinking. Did you hear that a suitor came by for Myrakle already? Mr. Penella, who was at the train station last night?”
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