by Nerys Leigh
The food was cooking on the stove by the time Gabriel walked in. He looked surprised to see Grace up.
“Good morning.” She indicated the table. “Have a seat. Breakfast’s almost ready.”
“Uh, thanks.”
She filled a cup from the coffee pot and carried it over to him. “Sorry, but I couldn’t work out how to make your roof-waterproofing coffee, so I did mine. You can make your own if you’d like.”
He took a sip and shook his head. “No, this will do. No sense in making two pots.”
Hiding her smile, she returned to the stove. “Thank you, for last night.”
“Last night?”
She kept her eyes on the eggs she was stirring. “Yes. For the blanket and letting me sleep and... everything. I truly appreciate that you did that, and left me alone, and for Brutus.”
“I reckoned you needed your rest.”
“I did, and I’m grateful. And I want you to know that I also appreciate that you’re giving me time before we... you know. I know a lot of men wouldn’t think they should have to.” She hadn’t intended to say it, but now she’d started, it seemed important to get it all out in the open, so they both knew where they stood.
After a few seconds of silence, she glanced back at him.
His eyes moved from her to the bed and then back again. “How much time do you think you’re gonna need?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I think I’ll know when I’m ready though.”
There were another few seconds of silence.
She stirred the eggs.
“So... not tonight then?”
“Not tonight, no.” She removed the eggs from the heat and turned to face him. “I’m sorry, but this is important to me.”
He placed his empty cup down on the table in front of him and stared at it. “I’m gonna be honest with you, I hadn’t figured on having to wait. And I certainly hadn’t figured on sleeping in the barn.” His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “But I reckon we’re going to have the rest of our lives together, so I can wait. Although not for too long, I hope.”
She breathed out. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I didn’t say I understood. Truth is, I can’t say as I’ve ever understood women, no offence intended. But if it’s important to you then I reckon, as your husband, it should be important to me too.”
To her surprise, her heart did a little flutter. If he kept saying things like that, he was going to move up another place in her list.
He raised his gaze and gave her a small, wistful smile. “But I reckon I ought to get to wooing.”
~ ~ ~
Gabriel didn’t have the first idea how to woo a woman. Where did a person even start?
He glanced at Grace sitting beside him on the buckboard seat as they drove into town. He still didn’t understand why he needed to woo a woman who was already his wife, but if it got him back into his own bed and, more importantly, persuaded her to allow him to bed her, he’d learn how.
He just needed someone to teach him.
“I’m going to be picking up supplies most of the time,” he said to Grace as they came to a halt outside the post office in Green Hill Creek’s main street. “So I reckon it might be best if you go do whatever you planned to and we meet back here later, if you’re all right with that?” Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.
She looked around her, her joy at being there clear on her face.
The moment he’d asked her the evening before if she wanted to go into town, she’d said yes. He supposed she missed having other people around, coming from the big city as she did. It worried him that she might not be happy just having him to talk to most days, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.
“I’m happy to do that,” she said. “I want to explore anyway, and do some shopping.”
He exhaled, relieved he’d get the time on his own for what he needed to do. “How long do you reckon you’ll need?”
She opened her reticule and took out her watch. “It’s just past eleven now. Would three hours be too long?”
“Nope. Three hours will be just fine.” Plenty of time to pick up the feed for the animals, buy a few other things he had need of, and pay a visit to the one person he was even remotely comfortable talking to about such things as wooing.
“Then I’ll meet you back here in three hours.”
He waited for her to climb down, bid her goodbye, and got Fred and Jed moving, guiding them towards the church. When he got there he carried on towards the home of Pastor and Mrs. Jones, hoping Mrs. Jones was in. He figured that, as a woman, she’d know all about wooing.
To his relief, she opened the door when he knocked.
“Mr. Silversmith.” She looked behind him to the buckboard on the street. “Where’s Grace?”
By the worry on her face, he guessed she thought he might have thrown another woman out of his home.
“She said she was going to explore the town and do some shopping. I said I would be picking up feed and such.” He swallowed, feeling awkward. “I wanted to talk to you about... things. If you have the time.”
She stood back to allow him inside. “Of course. You know you’re welcome here any time and Simon and I will help you with anything you need. He’s in his study. Did you want to talk to him?”
Gabriel snatched his hat from his head and held it in front of him. “Well, I think maybe you’d know better how to help me, you being a woman and all.”
A knowing smile slid onto her face. “Oh, I see. You need that kind of help.”
Embarrassed, he simply nodded and hoped against hope he was wrong and this wasn’t going to be the most excruciating conversation of his life.
She led him into the parlor. “May I get you anything to eat or drink?”
“Uh, no ma’am, thank you.” He lowered to the edge of the first chair he came to and clutched his hat in his lap.
Mrs. Jones sat on the settee opposite him, appearing markedly more relaxed than he was. “What can I help you with?”
“Well, uh, it’s like this. Um. Seeing as you did so well helping me with what to say on the advertisement that got Grace here in the first place, I thought that maybe you’d be able to teach me how to… to woo her.”
“Woo?”
“That’s what she said. Woo. She wants me to woo her before she’ll... um…” Why had he come here? Surely there was an easier way.
“Before she’ll...?” Mrs. Jones prompted, when he failed to complete the sentence.
He released a sigh and unpeeled his fingers from his hat. “Before she’ll let me sleep in the house. With her.”
She looked confused. “Where are you sleeping now?”
“Barn.”
Mrs. Jones pressed her lips together and looked at her lap for a few moments before replying. “Oh. Well. Um. Yes. I can certainly help you with wooing.”
She thought it was funny. He may not have been very good at reading women, but he could see that much.
“It’s not funny.”
She gave a delicate snort, covering her mouth with her hand. “Forgive me, I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just... the situation is a little funny.”
“Only when you’re not the one sleeping in the barn.”
She nodded, her eyes still dancing with merriment. “I can understand that.”
“So can you help me?”
She sat back. “I believe I can.”
~ ~ ~
The post office in Green Hill Creek was the smallest Grace had ever seen, but then the town itself was hardly large.
She walked in the door and almost collided with a hammer. The man holding it jerked back with a gasp, snatching the hammer away before it hit her. She lowered her arms, which she’d thrown up to ward off the blow.
“I’m so sorry! Are you all right?” He reached out a hand to steady her.
She pushed a strand of hair back from her eyes and nodded. “Yes, thank you. I was just startled.”
“I
should probably have waited to fix the doorframe until the post office is closed, but it was quiet and...” He shrugged and smiled. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, a striking contrast to his dark hair. “May I help you?”
She lifted the now slightly crumpled letter in her hand. “I’d like to mail this.”
“Of course. Right this way.”
She followed him across the small room to where he walked behind the counter and placed the hammer down.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, taking the letter she handed him and smoothing it out. “I’m Adam Emerson, Green Hill Creek’s postmaster. And part time bank teller, as you’ll discover if you frequent the bank.”
“Mrs. Grace Silversmith. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Mrs. Silversmith? So you’re Gabriel Silversmith’s new bride?”
“I am, yes.”
He took a sheet of stamps from beneath the counter. “Well then, welcome to Green Hill Creek. Have you come from far away?”
“New York City.”
“My wife is from New York.” He affixed a stamp to the envelope. “She’s only been here three months, but she loves it. She says it’s so much cleaner and quieter than in the city.”
Excitement fluttered through Grace. Another woman from New York would surely understand what she was going through.
“She’s certainly right about that. Is she here? I’d very much like to meet her.”
“She works at the livery, but I know she’d enjoy meeting you too. If you have time, you should go down there.” He pointed to his left. “It’s along this street, at the edge of town. Not too far.”
She blinked at him, unsure if she’d heard correctly. “Forgive me, but did you say she works at the livery?”
He grinned. “It’s a long story.”
A story she was now intrigued to hear. Perhaps she’d go and visit Mrs. Emerson after she left the post office. A woman working at a livery. She’d never heard of such a thing.
Mr. Emerson dropped the letter to her father into a canvas sack behind him. “That’ll be three cents for the stamp.” He took the nickel she gave him and gave her two pennies in exchange. “There are other women here from New York too. I’m sure it won’t take you long to feel right at home.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you. I think you’re right.”
~ ~ ~
Parsons’ Livery and Sales Stable was a pleasant stroll along Green Hill Creek’s main street.
Grace walked through the open front doors and looked around. She’d been in big, busy, bustling liveries in New York plenty of times. This place was nothing like any of them. For one thing, it was quiet. And clean, smelling of nothing more unpleasant than hay. It was also seemingly empty.
She called out into the silence. “Hallo?”
A blonde head popped up above the wall of one of the stalls toward the far end of the building.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” The young woman emerged from the stall and approached Grace with a smile. “What can I do for you?”
For a moment, Grace was slightly taken aback. She’d never seen a woman wearing trousers before. But she had to admit, they looked practical. There were times when struggling to perform certain tasks with her skirts tangling around her legs was intensely frustrating.
“Are you Mrs. Emerson?”
“I am.”
“Your husband told me I could find you here. I’m Mrs. Grace Silversmith.” She held out her hand.
Mrs. Emerson tugged her leather gloves off and took it. “Oh, Gabriel’s new wife?”
There was that word again. New. It wasn’t the word so much as the way they said it. Grace shrugged it off. They probably simply meant she was newly married and she was just imagining the slight emphasis.
“Yes. Your husband thought I might like to meet you, since we’re both from New York. I admit it’s a relief to find I’m not the only one. I think I’m still feeling a bit dazed to be here.”
Mrs. Emerson laughed. “I know that feeling well.”
“Amy? We got a customer?” A man stood at the back door, a shovel in his hands.
Mrs. Emerson beckoned him over. “George, this is Mrs. Grace Silversmith, Gabriel’s new bride. Mrs. Silversmith, this is George Parsons. He owns the livery. Don’t call him Mr. Parsons, he hates that.”
“Morning.” George nodded to her. “Just call me George. Everyone does.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, George.”
A woman working in a livery and a man she was calling by his given name as soon as she met him. Grace’s day was filling with new experiences.
“Pleasure to meet you too, ma’am.”
“I’m going to take a break so Mrs. Silversmith and I can chat,” Mrs. Emerson said.
George’s eyebrows reached for his gray-sprinkled dark hair. “I seem to recall you took a break an hour ago.”
She grinned and patted his arm. “And I know you won’t mind me taking another, seeing as you’re a nice person.”
He rolled his eyes. “Go on then. Not like I can stop you.” He tipped his hat to Grace. “Ma’am.”
“Don’t mind him,” Mrs. Emerson said as he walked back outside. “He seems like a grump, but he’s really a lovely man.” She wrapped her arm around Grace’s and led her towards the back doors. “We can sit outside and watch the horses and I’ll tell you all about how much you’re going to love it here.”
~ ~ ~
By the time Grace left the livery, she knew she’d made a friend. And with Amy’s effusive description of the town and her promise to introduce her to the other mail order brides she’d arrived with, she was also beginning to feel like she could truly be part of the community, even living so far out of town.
She spent some time wandering along the main street of Green Hill Creek, drifting in and out of shops, buying a few items she wanted, meeting the local people, and generally enjoying being back in civilization.
Not that she regarded Gabriel’s home as uncivilized. Well, not much. But she was glad to be meeting her new neighbors and doing something other than cooking and cleaning and learning how to take care of animals. It wasn’t like her shopping trips back in New York, but it was pleasant. She’d brought enough money with her that she would be able to buy anything she needed for the time being without having to ask Gabriel for any.
She eventually reached the hotel at the end of the street and was pleased to find they were serving lunch. After a delicious meal consisting of an inspired combination of Mexican and American food, she wandered back along the street to meet Gabriel.
Right on time, he pulled the buckboard up outside the post office as she arrived. As she placed the bag filled with her purchases behind the seat, he jumped to the ground.
She glanced around her. “Is something wrong?”
He twisted his hands together. “Uh... no. I just thought you might want me to help you up.”
It took a moment for it to dawn on her what he meant. “You mean into the buckboard?”
He nodded.
“Oh, um, all right. Yes, thank you.” She had no idea what had happened that he would suddenly want to help her, but she wasn’t about to refuse.
He looked relieved. “All right then.” There were a few seconds of silence. “Um... how do I do that without, um, touching...” He waved his hands in her general direction.
She stifled the urge to laugh. “You may touch my hands. Or my waist, if necessary.”
He hooked his thumbs into his pockets, a faint smile playing on his lips. “And you won’t punch me?”
“I promise not to punch you, as long as you don’t stray from the designated areas.”
“As in, waist or hands?”
“As in waist or hands.”
He nodded. “Just so I know where I stand. You punch real hard.”
“Thank you! That’s very kind of you to say.”
His brow knotted in bemusement. “I don’t know many women as would take that as a
compliment.”
“Then you haven’t met the right women.”
A smile replaced his confusion. “I reckon I haven’t, until now.”
Feeling her cheeks heating, she turned towards the buckboard. She had no idea what had happened to make him so attentive, but she liked it. And she didn’t mind at all when he placed his hands on her waist to help her up.
Joining her on the seat, he twisted round to reach behind him and brought forward a posy of yellow wildflowers. “I got these for you. Reckoned you might like them.”
The slightly awkward way he handed her the flowers, as if he wasn’t sure he was doing it right, made her heart melt a little. What in the world had happened to him while they were apart?
“Thank you, they’re beautiful. I like them very much.”
He nodded, blew out a breath, and set Fred and Jed moving.
“Did you get everything you needed?” he said, guiding the wagon onto a road that Grace recognized from the day she’d arrived.
“Most of it. Mr. Lamb didn’t have everything, but he placed a special order for the coffee beans I like. The stores here are remarkably well supplied, considering how far we are from any large towns. I suppose having the railroad run right through town has its advantages.”
“I reckon so. I’ve lived places where it took hours just to get to a store, any store. This is a good place to settle down.” He glanced at her then back at the road ahead. “Raise young ’uns.”
She looked down at the flowers in her lap. “Yes.”
Despite her first impressions of him, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing being married to Gabriel, and being the future mother of his children. Its appeal was certainly growing.
As they left the town behind, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out the leather pouch containing his chewing tobacco. Grace grimaced at the smell that wafted out when he opened it. If she was going to succumb to any kind of intimacy with him, however appealing that might become, she was going to have to deal with this first.
She twisted round to search her bag. “I bought something for you.”
“You did?” He withdrew his fingers from the pouch to take the small square tin she handed to him. “What is it?”
