Christmas Mail-Order Brides: Four-in-One Collection, page 17
The earnest glow in his eyes highlighted the difference between Hamilton and Zane. Hamilton had little interest in the things of God. That one thing troubled her during her engagement. Zane talked about God as if he knew Him personally.
“I’m glad you liked my gift.” Zane leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then her nose. And then her lips.
Her heart stirred, and her arm found its way around his waist. Should she show Zane the letter? What should she do? Oh God, please forgive me for my wayward thoughts. Help me.
Elisabeth and Zane rode home in silence. The shifting of the wagon back and forth echoed her anxious feelings. Despite her growing feelings of attachment to Zane, she still cared for Hamilton. And it pained her to know he was now free to marry her. But she had made a commitment before God to be Zane’s wife even if it hadn’t been consummated. She risked a glance at her husband. By his steady gaze, he looked deep in thought. Odd that when Harry asked her how she met Mr. Michaels, Zane had quickly silenced him. Was he ashamed that she was a mail-order bride?
“Was your letter from your uncle?”
A hitch caught in her throat and she coughed. “No. A friend.”
“Did you find the ink and paper I left out for you on the desk in the guest room?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve written to my friend, Caroline.”
“Good. Good.”
When they got home, two excited little girls jumped up and down and waved papers in the air. “We drew pictures for our new momma.” Olivia waved her drawing.
As soon as Elisabeth sat and took off her gloves, the girls crowded around her. “See.” Sophia pressed herself against Elisabeth. “That’s you and me holding hands in front of a Christmas tree.”
The picture grew blurry in Elisabeth’s gaze. “That’s a wonderful drawing.”
Olivia wedged her way in between them. “And here’s mine. It’s me and you dancing. See how our legs are bent?”
It was as if a hand was squeezing her heart. Elisabeth blinked back tears as her insides overflowed with gratitude. She wrapped her arms around them. “I have the two best girls.”
Olivia set her face right in front of hers. “Are those happy tears again?”
Elisabeth nodded as she dabbed at her eyes. She had her answer. She needed to let Hamilton go. Then she needed to figure out how to be the perfect wife for Zane.
Mrs. MacIntyre watched her and the girls. Her approving gaze gave Elisabeth an idea. “Mrs. MacIntyre, do you think you could teach me how to cook and clean?” Elisabeth glanced over her shoulder to see Zane hanging up his coat. “I’m just not sure how Mr. Michaels likes his house …”
Zane came and stood beside them. “I like my house full of girls.”
The two girls giggled. “Poppa.”
Zane ruffled Olivia’s hair. “Elisabeth, don’t be intimidated by Mrs. MacIntyre’s Scottish ways of running a home. I’m sure your skills are just as good.”
“Weel, I might be able to teach this St. Louis lass a thing or two.”
The kind glint in Mrs. MacIntyre’s eyes belied her scolding tone, easing the tension gripping Elisabeth’s shoulders. She would be a friend. God had heard her cry for help.
Using the excuse to put away her cloak, Elisabeth paced into her room, determined to find a minute alone to write to Hamilton and ask him never to communicate with her again. But as she strode past the window toward the desk, she stopped at the view of people skating on a frozen pond bordered by a row of fir trees on Zane’s land. One couple in particular drew her attention and her mind back to a memory from her past…
The refreshing St. Louis winter air invigorated her body and made the sky seemed bluer than before. Her arm hooked through Hamilton’s as they made their way, gliding around the frozen pond. It was her first courting, and she couldn’t be prouder to be seen with such a handsome man.
At each wobble, he held her upright, his strong arm around her back. “Do you like skating?”
“I love it.” Her confession gushed out before she could stop it. “I haven’t done this since I was a child. But wherever did you find skates that would fit me perfectly?”
“I bought them at the store.”
“For me?”
He suddenly spun around on the ice and gripped her arms as he faced her. His chiseled jaw and the cleft in his chin made her want to melt into the ice. “Nothing is too good for you, Elisabeth Lariby. I just can’t believe you said yes to coming with me.”
Elisabeth bit back a little cheer. She would have said yes to a walk through a cemetery in the dark just to be beside the most dashing man in all of St. Louis. Hamilton made her feel wanted, cherished, as if she belonged. Something she longed for since her parent’s death. “Thank you for the skates and for a wonderful day.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek with his warm lips and whispered in her ear, “There will be many more like this.”
Her heart soared. Had she found love at last?
Or a love that wasn’t meant to be?
Elisabeth shivered in the cold, forcing the brittle memories away as she turned from the window. Could that have been a year ago? How much her life had changed. She sat at the desk, her pen frozen above the paper. How could she say good-bye to the only man she’d ever loved?
Dear Hamilton,
She scratched out the word dear, then crumbled up the paper, wincing at the waste.
Hamilton,
I am sorry things did not work out with your fiancée, but I feel it best for us to end all correspondence. I am now a married woman and a mother to two girls. Please don’t contact me again.
Yours respectfully,
Mrs. Zane Michaels
As she stuffed the money he’d sent her into the envelope, her fingers burned as if touching fiery coals. This surely was the end of Hamilton Gatesworth.
Chapter 5
A week and a half passed, and Elisabeth scurried from one end of the house to the other, with her new apron, sewn by Mrs. MacIntyre, firmly in place. She found she enjoyed putting things in order and tidying up. But cooking was still a mystery to her. How Mrs. MacIntyre ever got that stove to the right temperature was a miracle in itself. Elisabeth, so far, had burned bacon, a coffee cake, and a pot of peas.
But these small steps into her new life, joined with Zane’s approving smiles, filled her with a sense of satisfaction. Often, instead of doubting God’s care, she found a prayer of gratitude to Him on her lips. Encouraged by Zane’s devotion to their nightly Bible reading and prayer, she could feel her own faith growing.
With Mrs. MacIntyre’s help, she found her homesickness for her life in St. Louis lessening and the grip her past had on her heart easing. She was beginning to see that she could make a life for herself in Plainsville.
That was the morning. Four hours later, she stood in the freezing wind, with her unfurled hair whipping around her face as she undid the clothes and linens from the clothesline. The temperature had dropped over the last few hours, and cold nipped her fingers. There must be a storm coming in. Overhead, the gray sky looked vast and lonely.
Mrs. MacIntyre was surprised when Elisabeth insisted on taking over the laundry duties, but she felt like it made up for her poor cooking skills. But afternoons spent bending over a tub filled with hot water was exhausting work. Although to see the girls in freshly washed and ironed dresses on Sunday was at least a heartening reward.
Needing her shawl and some gloves, she lugged the laundry basket into the house and headed upstairs to put Zane’s clothes away before going back to get the rest of the garments.
“Hello?” A voice called from the front of the house.
Elisabeth set the basket down and trod down the stairs. No one was home, as Zane said he needed to go make a deposit at the bank and had taken the girls with him. Mrs. MacIntyre had gone to take some medicine to a sickly neighbor.
Delilah and her husband, Reginald, were undoing their coats and hats.
“I didn’t know you were coming for a visit.” Elisabeth tucked her windblown hair behind her ears. “Can I get you some—” She paused. Mrs. MacIntyre wasn’t here, and she still didn’t make a very good a cup of coffee.
“Coffee would be great.” Reginald said, stretching his lanky frame onto an overstuffed chair.
Elisabeth hung up their coats, and then whirled around and gripped the tin coffeepot. How many scoops of coffee? How much water? Did she add the eggshells to settle the grounds now or after it boiled? She so wanted for them to approve of her, but whom could she ask for help?
It suddenly became clear that she had to make a decision about God. He either cared about her and knew the details of her life or He didn’t. She could either trust Him to help her with this coffee and her new life or continue in her distrust of Him. She pressed her eyes shut. “Please, help me, Lord. In this situation and every day of my life. I give You my life, my marriage, my heartaches. I am Yours. And please help me to make a decent cup of coffee.”
After a few minutes, she served a cup of the hot drink to Reginald and waited.
He took a sip. A smile touched his lips. “Perfect.”
A thrill tingled through her heart. Thank You, Lord.
“How are you finding life in Nebraska?” Delilah took a slice of cake from the plate Elisabeth held out. “Are we Nebraskans too backward for you?”
Elisabeth forced a serene smile to her lips, unsure how to answer and anxious to earn Delilah’s good opinion. “Nebraskans are very friendly and helpful.”
“What about our fashion? I see you haven’t given up your city way of dressing in dark colors.”
Elisabeth smoothed out her damp bodice with her hands red from scrubbing the laundry. Other than the dress her aunt had made for her, it had been a long time since she’d had something new to wear. “I hope one day I can buy some new dresses. More like the lighter colored styles that you wear here.”
“Well, nothing too expensive, I hope. Just because Zane got $100,000 when he sold his land in Colorado, I don’t think he should be throwing it around as much as he does.”
Elisabeth’s pulse pounded in her neck. Zane had that much money? Was that why he handed out so much? Why hadn’t he told her? “I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”
Reginald leaned forward. “We were hoping he’d be here. We wanted to ask him about a—a loan of sorts. The money he gave us this month kind of ran out, and with Christmas coming …”
“Ran out because you wanted a new shooting gun and a new horse. Like our stable doesn’t have enough already.” Delilah’s curls shook as she spoke. “My brother, Michael—” she slapped her hand across her mouth. “Oh dear, I hope he told you about his real name.”
Elisabeth cocked her head to one side. Zane wasn’t his real name?
Reginald scowled at his wife and then turned a serene gaze toward Elisabeth. “Never mind her questions. The reason we came is I wondered if you could give us some of the cash Zane keeps in that old suitcase under his bed.”
Elisabeth’s back and neck ached as she sat erect in her chair. Despite the cool temperature in the room, her body felt flushed with heat. She tugged on the edge of her dark purple skirt. “I—I don’t know where he keeps his money, but he did go into town today to deposit some and took a large suitcase with him.”
“Oh dear, he did say something to me last week about putting it all in the bank.” Delilah chewed on her lower lip.
“I told you we needed to come sooner.” Reginald unfolded himself like a jackknife and stood. “Well then, we need to get going.”
Delilah pulled on her cloak. “Thank you for the cake and coffee. Tell Zane I will speak to him on Sunday.”
They were outdoors faster than a gust of St. Louis wind.
Elisabeth leaned her back against the closed door. What other secrets was Zane hiding? Was he ever going to tell her about the money? His name? And why did he expect her to do the mending for his store when he obviously had the funds to hire someone?
A glance at the clock told her he would be home soon, and she needed to finish the laundry. Scurrying back up the stairs, she put his shirts and pants away in his dresser and then took a moment to survey his bedroom.
Who was this man who was hiding so much? What are you hiding from him? floated across her thoughts. But she could never tell him about Hamilton or her lack of sewing skills or her fear of disappointing the girls or her constant worry that she would never fit in Nebraska.
She leaned over and tucked in one wayward edge of his blue and white quilt on the bed. Had it been made by his wife? Did he still love the woman? She brushed the thought away. Of course he did, as he should. But would he ever love her? For a moment, she pictured herself lying in the bed next to him. What would it be like to cuddle—
Her scalp prickled with heat, and she picked up the folded blankets from the laundry basket and lifted the lid of the painted chest at the foot of his bed where Mrs. MacIntyre stored them. She paused when she saw a woman’s floral dress. With a glance over her shoulder, she set the blankets down and lifted out the faded rose-colored dress. Zane’s first wife must have been short and a full-figured woman. Elisabeth recognized her excellent dressmaking skills, as this woman’s exact stitches were in a perfect row.
She held the garment up to the light and studied the differences between St. Louis and Nebraska fashion. St. Louis styles were darker in color with a few discreet embellishments. This dress was pale with no adornments. Was that how Zane wanted his wife to dress? Were her clothes too fancy? Too dark? Did he find her attractive?
She found him very handsome. Even his auburn hair was appealing to her now. An ache welled in her throat. “Please, Lord, could you help Zane to love me?”
A peek further into the chest revealed more dresses, shoes, a few hankies, and a small wooden box. Zane must have saved these items for his girls. As she picked up the box and opened it, a brooch fell out onto her lap.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Heavy boots like Zane’s.
She fumbled to put the items away. The dress was folded and shoved back with the box hidden beneath it. The blankets set on top and the lid closed.
“Elisabeth?” Zane stood in the doorway.
“Oh, you scared me.” Her hand was pressed against her thudding heart. She smoothed back her hair, and as she stood, the pearl brooch fell to the floor.
“What’s this?”
“I’m sorry.” She braced herself. “I was just putting some blankets away, and—”
“This was my wife’s.” A sad smile creased Zane’s face as he turned the jewelry over in his hand. “When I was a boy, my mother had to sell it for food, but with my first real job I bought it back for her.” He closed his palm and looked up. “You should have seen her face when I gave it to her.”
Elisabeth’s heart swelled. She yearned to reach out and touch the side of his face. To smooth back the hair that hung over his furrowed brow.
“It belonged to my grandmother, and then was passed down to my mother, and then to Julia.”
Julia. A beautiful name for most likely a beautiful woman. Elisabeth sighed at her own tall, thin figure with no curves. How foolish to hope a man could ever care more for his second wife.
“It’s been passed down through three generations of wives.” He drew his gaze away from the jewelry and fixed it on hers. “I’ll just put it back.”
A weight pressed against her chest. Did the brooch remind him too much of Julia?
“So, are you done with the mending I brought in from the store?”
Her mouth went dry. She hadn’t even started. “I—I …”
He reached over and folded down the wayward collar on her dress. His warm hand brushed her cheek, and she longed to lean into it for comfort. “Don’t fret. A husband and two children are a lot to take on. I’m sure you’ll whip through that mending in no time.”
She pressed her lips together. She had never mended anything in her life. Should she tell him? She gripped both hands behind her back. What kind of marriage would this be if they both kept their hearts so hidden? All of a sudden her secrets became too much. A tear escaped her eye.
He stepped forward and pulled her into his sturdy arms. “Why the tears?”
She laid her head on his shoulder, savoring the comfort she found in his embrace. He had a wonderful smell of outdoors and soap mixed together. Her senses began to spin as he began to leave a fiery trail of kisses across her neck. When his lips found hers, she responded to his passion, savoring the feel of his ardent lips and the taste of his mouth.
Did she love him? A lump welled in her throat. Could he ever love her? Even with all her housewifery deficiencies?
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
She rested her chin on his shoulder, holding back her confession. She didn’t belong here. If she had any hope that he would ever love her, she couldn’t tell him the truth. She forced her voice to sound bright. “Everything is fine. I’m just tired.”
Zane breathed in the fresh smell of Elisabeth’s hair tangled about her shoulders. He pressed his eyes shut and relished the chance to hold her. He’d been hungry to take her into his arms from the first minute he saw her. But there was something in her eyes, a hesitancy that made him hold back and agree to wait on the physical side of their marriage. But sometimes, at night, when he was tossing and turning, he wondered what she thought of him. Did she regret coming to Nebraska? Was she disappointed with him as a husband?
He allowed himself a few more kisses on her soft cheek and hauled himself away. He admired her slender figure, her lovely skin, and the tilt of her small nose. He couldn’t believe she was his. What a blessed man he was. How much longer until she would be a wife in every sense?
In his eyes, despite the fact that she couldn’t cook, she was still perfect. Except that he had to keep how they met a secret. It wouldn’t do to be a successful businessman and have to write to an organization to find a wife. “Get to the mending when you can. But can I ask one favor? Earlier, when we visited the store, you were asked how we met. I’d like to keep that quiet. No one needs to know the details of how we came to be married.”
