“Sounds like you had a good time,” he said when she finally took a breath.
“Yes, I did. But, Nate,” she offered another pout, “I have to be honest and tell you again how upset I was to discover you’d married in my absence.” Lucy daintily dabbed her eyes with the edge of her lace handkerchief.
“It was time.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Lucy took a huge breath, pushing her bosom out. “I’ve heard Angel−is that her name−was a mail order bride.” She shivered.
“Yes, I met my wife through the Bride Agency.” He could have bit the words back. Continuing this conversation was not a good idea.
She smirked. “Certainly an interesting name for it. I guess I’m confused, because who knows what kind of a background she came from? Why, it’s well known some of these brides through the mail already have husbands, or they’re running from the law. You can’t let any strange woman into your house, around your precious children. I mean, these type of women lie all the time.”
“What type is that?” Nate’s voice came out as cold as bubbling spring water. “And where are you getting your information?”
Lucy waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, everyone knows about your mail order bride. Any woman who has to contact an agency and travel thousands of miles to get a husband, must have major problems, or certainly something to hide.” She fluffed the ruffle on her blouse.
Nate stood, anger twisting his gut. “I suggest you refrain from repeating anything with regard to my wife. Our marriage is private, and I don’t appreciate hearing nasty gossip.” He moved around the counter and walked to the door, opening it. “Now if our visit is over, I need to get back to work.”
Lucy’s eyes filled up, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Can’t we still be friends?” She reached out and touched his sleeve, blinking wildly so a couple tears tracked down her silken, rosy cheeks.
Nate took a deep breath. “As long as any conversations about my personal affairs are off limits. But I do have to get back to work now.”
Lucy leaned over, kissed him briefly on the lips, and turned to the door. Snapping her parasol open, she looked over her shoulder, and smiled. “Have a good day, Nate.” She opened the door with a flourish, and head held high, she left the shop.
* * *
Lucy continued to smile as she sauntered down the boardwalk. With a sky full of clouds, she didn’t need the parasol, but it looked so pretty with her outfit. She couldn’t resist carrying it, and twirled it as she strolled along.
She would break him down, of that she was certain. No one could resist her. With her looks, clothes, education, and Papa’s money, she could get anything she wanted, and she wanted Nathan Hale. And she’d already gone through enough to get him.
Never in her wildest imaginings would she guess he’d take a wife while she was gone. The drab, plain woman he married had to have a history. All she needed to do was uncover it, and lay it all out for Nate. Then he’d divorce her and they could be together.
Happiness descended on Lucy as she entered the milliner’s shop, wanting to treat herself. For an hour, she terrorized Mlle. LeGrande by trying on every hat in the store, before she purchased one.
“Have it delivered. I don’t wish to carry it with me.” It always felt good to put common workers in their place.
* * *
Angel retrieved the small jar she kept above the sink that jingled with coins. She was proud of her little cache of money. After word got around the community she successfully tutored Mark, several mothers had come to her and asked if she could help their children. With school out for the summer, she scheduled her tutoring sessions at various times during the day when it fit into her daily routine.
Her lesson over, Mary Jane Emmons dropped her money in the container. The clink as it hit the other coins sounded wonderful. She contributed to the family. So far her money had bought material to make a new dress for Julia-Rose, although Nate scolded her for not using it for a dress for herself. Mrs. Darby spent time with her every day to help with the dress, and she couldn’t wait to finish it so she could proudly show the pretty yellow gingham pinafore to Nate.
Humming, she started dinner. Most days, Nate came home at noontime to eat with the family.
“Matt, come here, please,” she called from the back door to where he hoed her garden, another endeavor that filled her with pride. The boys had helped her prepare the ground, and then took turns keeping the weeds at bay. Currently she had onions, snap peas, pole beans, tomatoes, squash, and corn growing. When harvest time came, Mrs. Darby had promised to show her how to preserve the excess for winter.
Having had everything handed to her without any effort most of her life, she felt a great deal of satisfaction in doing things for herself, despite the difficulties. Every day she felt more confident, and gained stronger skills. She would never be so bold as to claim things ran smoothly, but at least the fiascos were now at a minimum. Unfortunately, she never really got the knack of cooking, but no one starved.
Matt came bounding up the stairs. “Here.” She dropped a coin into his hand. “Please go to the baker and buy a loaf of fresh bread for dinner.” That was another advantage of her tutoring. She could purchase the things she couldn’t do herself, instead of watching Nate cringe when he eyed her pitiful efforts. He was patient with her, but at times she knew she fell short of his expectations.
“Sure, can Mark go with me?”
“Has he finished his chores?”
“Yep. He was going to help me with the hoeing.”
“All right, you can both go. But don’t dawdle. Your papa will be home for dinner soon.”
Deciding a cold meal would be better in the July heat, she had prepared hard-boiled eggs, cold ham, chunks of cheese, and canned peaches for dinner. The fresh bread would round it out nicely. Since everything was ready, she picked Julia-Rose up from her play area Nate had blocked off in the parlor with small crates. She covered the baby’s curly hair with kisses and went outside to the porch and settled on the rocking chair.
She breathed deeply of the perfumed summer scents. The sun warmed her, but the air remained pleasantly cool, a rare thing for Oregon City. A slight breeze lifted the blonde curls on the little girl’s head.
When Nate walked up, Angel and Julia-Rose clapped their hands together, singing a silly baby song.
“Papa!” Julia-Rose squealed, reaching her hands out. She seemed to be saying more words every day. Nate took the baby, and smiling broadly, leaned over to give Angel a kiss.
“Well, you certainly seem happy to see us.”
He grinned, and sat alongside her. “Honey, you have no idea.”
* * *
Lucy slammed the front door of her house. Glancing in the mirror that hung over the small hall table, she removed her hat and tossed her parasol on the table.
“Bella!” Lucy shouted from where she stood. A young girl dressed in a maid’s uniform hurried down the stairs at her mistress’s call.
“Yes, miss,” Bella said.
“Where’s my papa?” Lucy pulled off her gloves.
“I think he’s in the library, miss.”
“Good. Draw me a bath. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She dropped the gloves on top of the parasol and made her way to the library.
Lucy studied her father as she stood in the doorway. His head bent over the papers on his desk, he didn’t notice her presence. Many evenings, over expensive brandy at the dinner table, he’d told the story of how, after a poverty stricken childhood, he arrived in Oregon City as a young man of twenty-one with no more than the clothes on his back. He cleaned stalls at the livery, sleeping upstairs in the loft, while he washed dishes at the restaurant. The pay wasn’t much, but he received free meals. With a place to sleep and free food, he’d saved every dime he’d made.
With the money he’d squirreled away, he entered into a high stakes poker game one night, and walked away with over a thousand dollars, along with the d
eed to a lumber mill. With the way Oregon City grew, the lumber mill proved a moneymaker. He used his profits to buy more land and businesses, and soon owned two saloons, a hotel, a restaurant and the livery where he’d started out.
Her gaze drifted to the portrait hanging over the fireplace, of Josephine Majors Benson, her mother. Done by one of the best artists in the country, it depicted a young, sweet girl, several years younger than Lucy’s age of twenty-three. The mother she never knew married Eli at the insistence of her family, bore him one daughter and died a few hours later. Eli was left with no wife and a new baby, who he promptly turned over to nursemaids.
“Papa, you work entirely too hard.” Lucy entered the library, not her favorite room, since it contained a large amount of books.
He glanced at her, and smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “Back from your visits so soon?” He pushed his spectacles to his forehead, and re-lighted the stump of a cigar sitting alongside him.
“It was boring, Papa. Nobody wanted to hear about my trip, or the wonderful clothes I brought back with me. All they could talk about was local gossip, and other stupid things.”
“I hear Nate got himself a new wife.” He blew a circle of smoke in the air.
Lucy flushed. “That’s a mistake. She’ll be going back to where she came from soon.”
“What are you talking about? They’ve been married for months now.”
“I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about a party I want to have.”
“A party? You only just returned from Europe.”
“So what?” She shrugged. “The trip is over, and now I want a party, so I can wear one of the beautiful gowns I had made in Paris.” She fiddled with the papers on his desk. “Planning a party would be so much fun. Please say yes.” She managed to squeeze out a few tears, which wasn’t hard when she tried to get her way. She’d had a lot of practice over the years.
“Well, if that makes my little girl happy, then you will have your party. I assume you’ll take care of everything? I have no interest in all that foolishness.”
“Oh yes, Papa, I’ll take care of everything.” She kissed him on his slightly bald head, and added, “Your job is to pay the bills.” Laughing, she ran from the room, leaving him bent over his papers again before she even closed the door.
The sun edged its way toward the horizon, casting the pink and white bedroom in dusky shadows. Lying in the bathtub in front of the fireplace for the second time that day, Lucy ran the details of her party through her mind. She filled a sponge with cool, scented water, and squeezed it over her breasts, enjoying the delicious sensation as the liquid ran over her nipples. Raising one leg, she dribbled water over it, and slipped deeper into the tub.
More than a few men she’d met in Europe had been happy to introduce her to the pleasures of lovemaking. They had also taught her how to prevent pregnancy, which left her free to enjoy those pleasures. If she couldn’t tempt Nate soon, she would have to find someone else to relieve her building needs. She shivered to think of the many interesting things she had learned on her European trip, and how wonderful it would be to share them all with Nate.
She imagined his long fingers stroking her, caressing her in sensitive places. His mouth on her breasts, and other places she’d learned were even more fascinating. Frowning, she remembered his dowdy wife, and banged the side of the tub in frustration.
Pushing the unpleasant thought aside, she went back to planning her party. She would wear her utterly stunning, royal blue satin gown, with the cream-colored silk piping around the scandalously low neckline. She had it made up in an exclusive little shop in Paris, along with slippers to match.
That would show up Nate’s wife, who’d probably never owned a ball gown in her wretched life. The woman had the look of a domestic or laundress, which she probably did in New York before she finagled Nate into marrying her. Or more likely a tavern maid. Who knew what kind of lies she told him in order to get herself a husband?
Lucy would convince Nate of his mistake, and make him her own. She would appear sophisticated and provocative, unlike Angel.
Her insides clenched in anger when she thought of the wonderful plans she’d made for her and Nate. After they were married, Papa would give Nate one of his businesses to manage, which would significantly improve his income. With the large house Papa would have built for them, they would have room for servants, and a nanny and nursery for the children, so she wouldn’t even have to see them.
They would host lavish parties and attend the theater in Oregon City, and travel to San Francisco several times a year to enjoy the social life in that fascinating city. She would be stunning in her beauty, with a handsome husband on her arm.
Drat Nate! Why didn’t he wait until she came back from Europe? He had seriously ruined her plans.
* * *
Angel stood at the doorway to the kitchen and watched Matt and Mark slugging each other. Near the end of August, the day had been a particularly trying one. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, once again listening to the twins bickering with each other. Her usually easygoing Julia-Rose had fussed all day, which made her hope the baby wasn’t getting sick.
The children she’d tutored that day had been distracted, which made the lessons last much longer. She had forgotten to soak the beans the night before, so they couldn’t have the beans and ham hock she planned for supper, which was a blessing in this heat. Instead, her already unhappy brood had to make due with scrambled eggs and bread quickly purchased from the bakery.
“I hate eating breakfast for supper!” Luke whined when he came to the table.
“Never mind, young man, be thankful you have food for your belly,” Nate said as he strapped Julia-Rose in her chair.
Angel dished up the eggs and bread, and plopped in her seat. She reached over and spooned eggs and buttered bread for Julia-Rose. Putting the food in front of the baby, she sighed as she realized she forgot the coffee. She winced at her stiff muscles as she rose, then poured two cups for her and Nate.
“Honey, have I told you what a good job you’re doing?”
She stared at him with narrowing eyes.
“No, I mean it. The house isn’t perfect, laundry isn’t always on time, and there’s the occasional breakfast for supper.” Nate waved his hand around the table. “But we all appreciate what you’re doing, don’t we, boys?” His sons hadn’t picked up on his enthusiasm, and sat silently. “I think when supper’s over, we’ll clean up the kitchen so you can take a nice, cool bath.”
“Aw, Papa, that’s women’s work,” Matt groused.
“Work is work, and we all help each other as a family to get things done.” He regarded each boy in turn. “Let’s hear no more about it.”
Angel studied Nate, her heart filling. Here sat a man who took life’s rough spots with ease. He was a loving, fair father, and a courteous and caring husband. If she had to be forced into the role of a mail order bride, she couldn’t have found a better man. Her feelings for him became more engaged every day. That would be a good thing if he returned the sentiments, but as kind as he was, he’d never indicated anything stronger for her. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to let go of Amy’s memory.
True to his word, once they’d finished, Nate prompted the boys to clean the kitchen while he washed Julia-Rose, and put her nightgown on. Her fussiness had stopped, but she appeared as tired as Angel, her head on his chest, fingers crammed into her mouth, when he carried her upstairs to bed. As soon as the boys were done, he told them to wash up and go to bed. Angel had taken in and folded clean laundry from the yard, and then read to them while Nate prepared the water for her bath. She came down from the boys’ room as he finished.
He’d dragged the heavy tub into the parlor and placed it in front of the fireplace. Even though it had been a hot, sticky day, he made a small fire, and filled the tub with water.
She gazed longingly at the tub. “Oh, that looks wonderful. I’ll get my things and be right back.”
S
hortly she returned with a towel, scented soap and a wash cloth. Nate’s long legs ate up the distance between the fireplace and the doorway. He took the bath items from her hands. Slowly, he lowered his head, his lips meeting hers. When she softened in his arms, he grasped her bottom, and pulled her closer to his manhood, already hard.
“Considering how dangerous your bath was the night after you arrived, I think for safety, I should assist you,” he mumbled in her ear, his breath warm and sensuous. Angel’s knees grew weak.
He released her, and slowly unbuttoned her dress. His lips moved over her neck, as he slid the dress over her shoulders, trapping her arms. His blond head moved back and forth as he nibbled and licked at her collarbone, and up to the back of her ear. Angel angled her head back, and he continued to nip, lick and kiss her heated skin.
Nate pushed the dress to her feet, and Angel kicked it away. Nimble fingers lowered the straps of her chemise, revealing her full breasts, the nipples erect with anticipation.
His palms moved languidly over the turgid peaks. “I love how you respond to my touch.” He lowered the chemise, along with her drawers, and Angel stepped out of those as well.
The smell of her perfumed soap drifted on the air, mixed with the scent of Nate, spicy and male, as he drew her to him, and kissed her deeply, slanting her head for better access. They tangled with their tongues, and Angel moaned softly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and splaying his hand over her bottom, edged her closer. With his other hand, he cupped her breast, rolling the taut nipple.
She loved the sensation of her naked body against his fully clothed one, and how wanton it made her seem. The scratchiness of his shirt and pants rubbed delightfully over her sensitive spots.
Oregon Trail Boxed Set Page 37
