Christmas Mail-Order Brides: Four-in-One Collection, page 21
“Sergeant Bailey.” She smiled up into his creased face. Of course he looked older. His dark hair had swaths of pure white at his temples, but it suited him and made him look more distinguished. He’d kept his lithe form, and if anything he’d grown more handsome with age.
“Oh, please. It’s been more than twenty years since I wore the uniform. Besides, we’re old friends. You must call me Lennox, as you did in your home in Kansas City.”
They walked along the platform toward the baggage car.
“I’d be happy to take you to your hotel,” Lennox said. “Where are you staying?”
“The Royal.”
“That’s a very nice place. I hope you’re free this evening.”
Surprised, she looked up into his eyes. He did indeed seem pleased to see her. “Why, yes, I am.”
“I thought we might have supper together. Your hotel is renowned for its excellent cuisine, if you care to dine there.”
“Why thank you.” Amelia smiled at him. This was better than she’d hoped. Having dinner with Lennox would surely give her the opportunity to discuss his unmarried state. “I’d like that very much.”
“Wonderful. I’ll drop you at the Royal now and give you a couple of hours to rest. If I come back at six, would that suit you?”
“Perfectly.”
They stopped where the baggage car was being unloaded and retrieved her valise. She hadn’t known what to expect for a conveyance, but his smart bay horse was harnessed to a surrey with wheels and thills made of dark, polished wood and fringe fluttering in the breeze. It had room for her luggage behind the seat. Lennox stowed the bag and offered his hand to help her into the vehicle. A black canvas cover partially enclosed them and kept the intense sun off her complexion.
“Perhaps I should have brought the carriage,” Lennox said, “but it’s warm today, and I felt like driving myself.”
Amelia enjoyed the ride to the Royal Hotel. For twenty minutes they trotted in and out of traffic, first between large warehouses and then in the business district.
“How is Helen doing?” Amelia asked as they rolled past stores that promised hours of good shopping.
“She’s well. I did tell you about my grandson?”
She smiled at his eagerness. “You mentioned the little fellow’s arrival in the note you wrote last summer. How’s the boy doing?”
“Oh, he’s wonderful. He’s got Helen’s eyes, and that shock of black hair. But he’s placid like his father. Very tranquil baby—not at all like Helen was.”
Amelia chuckled. “I hope I’ll get to see him before I leave.”
A shadow crossed Lennox’s face. “Perhaps. I’ll have to see if we can arrange it. They live only a few blocks from me, but Helen and Daniel keep a busy social calendar. He’s a lawyer.” His tone said that should explain everything.
Amelia said, “Ah,” and turned her attention back to the stores. They were passing a large mercantile, and she made note of its location in case she wanted to purchase some stationery or other sundries during her visit.
Finally they turned off onto a quieter street with large elms shading them. The imposing hotel looked quite elegant. Amelia wondered if she should have chosen someplace more modest, but she’d determined to enjoy this trip and pamper herself a bit. She would have a pleasant excursion, no matter whether she completed her goal or not.
A boy ran over to the surrey as they pulled up, and Lennox gave him a coin to hold the horse. He jumped down and took Amelia’s valise from the back then came to help her to the ground.
A man met them halfway to the front door. “Help you, sir?”
Lennox handed over the valise and another coin.
Amelia felt her face flush. She hadn’t meant for Lennox to spend money on her, though his fine suit and spirited horse indicated he could well afford it. “Thank you,” she said as they approached the front desk.
“Think nothing of it.” Lennox nodded to the desk clerk. “Mrs. Mayberry has arrived.”
“Good afternoon, ma’am. Sir.” The clerk flipped a page of the ledger before him. “Ah, Mrs. Micah Mayberry.”
“That’s correct,” Amelia said.
The clerk reached for a key. “We’ve put you in room twenty-six, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She took the key and turned to Lennox. “I appreciate all you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome.” He said to the desk clerk, “I’d like to reserve a table for two for dinner in your restaurant.”
“Certainly, sir. In the name of Mayberry?” He picked up his pen.
“No, Bailey.”
“Ah, Mr. Bailey.” The clerk’s eyebrows shot up in apprehension, as though he had made an error in not recognizing one of the hotel’s preferred customers. “Of course, sir. I’ll be sure you have a good table at …”
“Six o’clock.”
The clerk scribbled on a piece of paper.
Lennox turned to the man still holding Amelia’s valise. “You take good care of Mrs. Mayberry.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiled at Amelia. “I shall call for you at six.”
Amelia followed the bellboy to her room, where he deposited her valise and retreated in silence. As much as she craved a nap, Amelia couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her well-appointed hotel room looked down on a quiet garden behind the building. She was glad it didn’t front on the street. Even so, she could still hear the distant noise of trains, carriages and wagons, dogs barking, and shouts.
She took off her shoes and lay down on the coverlet, but her mind kept revisiting her reunion with Lennox Bailey. Had he changed over the years? He looked almost noble, yet his handsome face held the same honest lines it always had. She felt he’d grown more reserved, or maybe it was just because they’d not had Micah and Susie there with them today, as they always had when they’d met other times. Still, he’d cordially invited her to dinner. That was promising.
Had he thought her dowdy and travel-worn? She jumped from her bed to check over the dress she planned to wear to supper. Not her best, but a very nice silk and woolen blend, which she’d had made a month ago. A good, proper dress for the widow of a minister with modest means. Perhaps she could sponge the wrinkles with a damp handkerchief, and they would smooth out. And the pearl gray hat that so nearly matched the material would set off her hair—still a rich brunette.
Oh dear, she thought. I’m as vain as an actress.
She walked to the dressing table and studied her face in the mirror. Young she was not. She’d heard people say she was a handsome woman, and she supposed that was better than prettiness, which could fail miserably when one hit the sixth decade of one’s life.
Her skin was smooth and unwrinkled, and her eyes were still a vibrant brown. Micah used to tease her and say they looked like mud puddles. But that was usually before he kissed her soundly, so she hadn’t minded.
Now … how would she approach the topic she’d come to discuss? She had let Lennox think she had other business in town. It seemed easier that way—not to let him realize her main purpose for the trip was to try to undo her misstep with him. He wouldn’t like the idea that she’d undertaken the trip largely out of concern for him.
After the first attempt had gone bad, he’d sent her a letter politely declining her offer to try to find another match for him. At the time, Amelia had thought it best not to push the matter. For a year or so, she’d had a vague, nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But after she’d achieved her financial goal—saving enough of a nest egg so she could buy her own home and retire—her failure to find him a compatible wife niggled at her. Then it became a solid, full-formed thought that nagged at her. She ought to have done better by Micah’s old friend.
As she’d wound up her last few matches, she’d kept Lennox in the back of her mind. Every time a woman over forty contacted her, Amelia measured her against Lennox’s specifications for a wife. And over the last six months, she’d collected three she thought might suit him. Any one of them would be delighted to become the supportive mate of a fine man like Lennox. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned him to any of the ladies. In fact, she’d informed them that she was retiring and would probably not be able to search out husbands for them. However, she’d said to each that if she ran across a Christian man of good character who seemed to meet their requirements, she would keep her in mind.
But now she had to get Lennox to change his mind.
Amelia sat down on the edge of the four-poster bed. It would be best if he thought it was his idea.
Lennox drove to his place of business to spend the two hours allotted him before returning to the hotel. The fruit-packing plant thrived these days. California’s finest peaches, oranges, lemons, and grapefruit came to Bailey and Co., for tender packing and refrigeration. They shipped several boxcars full of local produce east every week, and the company’s profits soared.
He spoke to his foreman and walked toward his office. The packing house would close for the day soon, but the loading crew would work into the evening, putting the crates on the train cars. His desk sat beside a large window that afforded him a good view of the loading platform.
As he stood looking down on the bustling crews, his thoughts returned to Amelia Mayberry. She had aged well. He’d always agreed with Micah that she was a lovely woman. She’d kept her figure and, if anything, looked more beautiful as a mature woman than she had as a young bride. He’d told Micah several times in jest that Amelia was too good for him.
How he missed his old friend! He and Micah hadn’t seen each other much after they’d finished serving together at Fort Laramie thirty years ago, but they’d kept in touch. They’d met up once during the war, when he’d stayed on active duty and Micah served as a chaplain.
Knowing that his dependable corporal-turned-preacher was reachable if he really needed a friend had been a comfort to Lennox. At the end of the war, they’d met again before returning to their homes. Then he and Susie had managed a visit of several days with the Mayberrys in Kansas City on their way to California. After he started the fruit-packing business, he’d not had time to travel, and they hadn’t met in person again.
News of Micah’s death had staggered him, and for a while he’d felt the keen edge of mortality. But Susie and Helen had filled his life with joy. His business success brought a measure of satisfaction. If the truth were told, he’d seldom thought about Micah’s widow except when her card came every Christmas. Susie always wrote back. When his wife had died, Amelia had sent him a tender, thoughtful letter.
An errand boy knocked on his door and came in with a message.
“Say, how would you like to earn an extra two bits today?” Lennox asked.
“I’d like it very much, sir.” The boy waited eagerly.
Lennox sat down and scrawled a note saying he wouldn’t be home until late evening on a sheet of paper and folded it in half. He stood and reached into his pocket for a coin. As he placed the note in the boy’s hand with a quarter, he said, “Run to my house and give this to my housekeeper, Mrs. Santos. You know the place, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Shall I wait for an answer?”
“No need.”
The boy scurried off, and Lennox turned once more to the window, thinking back over his past connection with Amelia. Three years ago, on a trip to San Francisco, he’d seen an ad in the newspaper there. An ad for Mrs. Mayberry’s Matrimonial Society for Christians of Moral Character. At first he couldn’t believe the proprietor was his friend’s widow, even though the Kansas City address made it possible. For a rather steep fee, gentlemen could engage her services to find them wives.
The idea had startled him and even offended him at first. He’d had no idea Amelia had been making her living by matchmaking. He’d torn out the ad and tucked it away in his wallet.
To his surprise, a few days later he met a man who had made use of Mrs. Mayberry’s aid in finding a bride. His new acquaintance said Mrs. Mayberry had done what he’d failed to do, and he was ecstatic with the result. He admired his new wife and quickly developed affection for her. His praise for the matchmaker embarrassed Lennox. The man claimed he didn’t have the time or the patience to go and look for a wife, but he had the money with which to hire someone to do it. And Mrs. Mayberry’s choice for him had exceeded his expectations.
Lennox thought of that man often, after he returned to Sacramento. His house was empty now, but for himself and his hired help. Helen was grown and married, and there were days when he ached with loneliness. Perhaps the San Francisco businessman had made an astute move.
The more he thought about it, the less the idea offended him. Amelia even knew him slightly—surely she would be able to find a woman who could adapt to the life of an old soldier who’d gone into commerce.
Why had he ever thought such a harebrained scheme would work? In the first place, he didn’t need a new wife. Susie had been his true love, and he missed her terribly, but he’d had no thoughts of replacing her until he saw that ad.
He supposed he felt sorry for Amelia, being alone so long and having to make a living. If she’d have been a seamstress, he’d have ordered a dozen shirts from her. But she wasn’t a seamstress. She was a matchmaker. And that fellow he’d met in San Francisco had given a glowing testimonial. So he’d written a tentative letter, feeling almost shy. What would Amelia think of him?
As soon as he’d sent that letter, he’d regretted it. Knowing he’d done it appalled him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Helen and Daniel. He had wanted to telegraph Amelia and rescind the inquiry.
Then he’d begun to think once again that perhaps it could work. He was lonely—he admitted that. Since Helen married and moved out of the house, he rattled around by himself. The couple he’d hired were good people. Anna cooked and cleaned for him, and Richard kept up the garden and the horses. And he did have lots of friends in town. But it wasn’t the same as a family—a life’s companion. He’d always imagined himself and Susie sharing these golden years.
And so he’d kept quiet and waited. What a mistake!
A glance at his pocket watch told him that the time had come for him to go back to the hotel and fetch Amelia for dinner. He must be careful not to mention the botched bit of matchmaking. He found himself looking forward to seeing her again, in spite of the sticky topic neither of them had yet mentioned.
When he arrived in the hotel lobby, she was just coming down the stairs. She wore a simply cut but stylish dress in a becoming bluish-gray, and her hat framed her face adorably. Amelia would make a pleasant dinner companion, he was sure, and every man in the room over thirty years of age would be jealous of him. He met her at the bottom of the staircase and offered his arm.
She took it with a smile. “Good evening, Lennox. So good of you to invite me.”
“My pleasure.” He led her into the dining room, where the waiter ushered them to a table near a window.
“What a lovely view of the mountains,” Amelia said as she unfolded her napkin.
Her reaction pleased Lennox. His forethought to reserve a good table had paid off. “I eat here often with business acquaintances.”
“It’s a pleasant room, and a certain gentleman told me the food is excellent.” She gave a little wink, and he chuckled. Amelia gazed about the large room, taking in the holiday greenery and ornaments. “I love the Christmas season. They’ve made it seem very homelike, though it’s much warmer outside than it would be in Kansas City right now.”
“I don’t usually feel festive at Christmastime anymore, but when Helen and Daniel bring their little boy over, I’m sure I’ll brim over with seasonal goodwill.”
“Children do make the holidays more joyful.”
“Yes. I look forward to picking out some interesting gifts for Samuel when he’s a wee bit older.” He picked up the menu. “The fish is very good here.”
“Would you order for me, since you know this place?”
“Certainly, if you wish.”
“It would save me a great deal of anxiety.”
Her sheepish smile warmed him. Surely she wasn’t ill at ease. She seemed perfectly poised, though she continued to look around at the elegant dining room with a discreet appreciation. Some of the society women he knew felt it was their duty to act bored wherever they went. Some acted as though nothing could shake them from their ennui, short of a major earthquake.
When the waiter reappeared, Lennox placed the order for the two of them.
“Would you like some wine this evening?” the waiter asked.
“No thank y—” He broke off and looked to Amelia for confirmation. He was 90 percent certain she didn’t imbibe, and yet he hadn’t seen her in seventeen years. “Unless you …” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh no, thank you.”
He sent the waiter away, feeling they’d slipped more solidly into their old friendship. “Shall we return thanks now?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
She bowed her head, and Lennox added another mental chalk mark to his invisible tally. So far, Amelia had passed every small test he’d thrown in her path.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for Amelia’s safe journey. We ask that You would bless this meal and our fellowship, and give her success in her business here.”
“Amen,” she said softly but adamantly.
“Will your business keep you occupied during your entire stay?” he asked.
She hesitated only an instant. “I think not. I’ve allowed some extra time for sightseeing and such.”
“Would you have time for a drive out into the country? I’d love to show you some of the farms and orchards in the valley.”
“I should like that very much.”
They arranged a time for the next afternoon, and Lennox sat back in contentment. They talked of the old days, when he and Micah had served at Fort Laramie, and Lennox recalled when Micah had fulfilled his enlistment and left for seminary. “The next time I saw him, during the war, the two of you were married. Micah was looking forward to getting back to you and starting his ministry.”
