Mail-Order Miranda (Brides of Beckham)

by Margery Scott

  “This is only half of the building. The other half is empty,” he told her. “It was originally a saloon, but when the original owner died, his son closed the saloon and divided the building into two. I bought this half three years ago. I’d like to buy the other half and expand one day, but I expect it’ll get sold before I can come up with the money.”

  “How much do you need?” she asked. Not that she could help him. She had no money of her own.

  He named a figure that stunned her. She couldn’t imagine ever saving that much money.

  “I’m proud of it,” he said. “I’ve worked hard and it’s paying off. It’s full most every night, and folks seem to like the food.”

  Miranda could see the pride on his face and hear it in his voice. It filled her with joy, and she hoped that somehow she could help him realize his dream. “Is the kitchen through there?”

  He nodded, then followed her as she wove her way through the tables and opened a door at the back of the building.

  A huge kitchen greeted her - two cookstoves, a large icebox, shelves holding ingredients, and a long counter that ran through the center of the room. It was much larger than the kitchen in the Tollivers’ house, and there were often four or five women bustling around preparing meals there at any one time. “Once you expand, you won’t even need to enlarge this kitchen,” she commented.

  “I know,” he agreed. “I planned it that way.”

  “Very smart.” Her respect for her new husband rose a few more notches. Not only was he handsome and easy to get along with, he was proving himself to be a shrewd businessman with a plan for the future.

  “Anything you’d like to know about it?”

  “Not right now. I’m only sorry you had to close the diner because of me. It really wasn’t necessary—”

  “I didn’t close because of you. I wanted to close because I wanted to spend a little time getting to know you and to show you around before I left you to deal with the house and the children.”

  “I appreciate it, but you’ve lost income because of it. Is there some way I can help you to make up for it?”

  He shook his head. “No, but thanks for the offer. Knowing the girls are taken care of and I can come home to a nice home and a good meal is all I need to help me focus on the diner. Now don’t give it another thought.”

  “All right.”

  “Now, are you ready to go back home?” he asked. “I’m sure Aunt Ruth will be bringing the girls home soon. Did I tell you that she offered to still come to the house every morning and stay with you to help you take care of the girls?”

  It upset her that John didn’t trust her to look after his children properly, but at the same time it was understandable. She didn’t know anything about children and naturally he wouldn’t want to take any chances with their safety. If anything happened to those two precious little girls because of her, not only would John never forgive her, she’d never forgive herself.

  She had no logical reason why, but in their short meeting right after the wedding, she felt uncomfortable in Ruth’s presence, almost like a child on the brink of being scolded. She couldn’t say anything to John, though. He’d think she was being silly, and she likely was.

  She’d have to put a smile on her face and accept Ruth’s help, at least temporarily. Summer would be over soon and the children would be going to school, so there would be no reason for Ruth to spend her days in their house. All she had to do was get along with the woman until then.

  And once the children were in school, she’d have extra time. She could work in the diner and make John’s work a little lighter. Her thoughts drifted, and soon she was coming up with a plan to help John realize his dream.

  Chapter Seven

  John couldn’t figure out why it was so important to him that Miranda approve of his diner. He’d never been one to worry about what other people thought. If he had, he wouldn’t cook for a living. Woman’s work, a lot of people thought, but most folks who wanted to eat at a diner didn’t really care who did the cooking as long as it tasted good.

  He was proud of what he’d accomplished, and for some reason, he wanted Miranda to be proud of him. How could that have happened in only one day?

  He was sitting at the desk in the parlor working on the diner accounts later that afternoon when the front door opened and Ruth walked in. The twins followed behind, their faces serious until they saw John.

  Hope and Ellie raced past Aunt Ruth, almost mowing her down in their rush to reach him. His heart swelled with love as they climbed into his lap, throwing their arms around him and snuggling tight.

  “We missed you, Papa. Didn’t we, Hope?” Ellie’s high-pitched voice filled the room.

  Aunt Ruth’s face pursed. “Ellie, there’s no need to screech like a wounded animal.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ellie’s smile disappeared, but she didn’t budge from John’s lap.

  “It’s all right, Aunt Ruth,” John put in. “They’re children. They get excited.”

  “That’s no reason to act like savages.”

  “That’s true,” John said. “Have you had lunch?”

  “We have,” Aunt Ruth replied.

  “Where’s the lady?” Hope asked shyly, her gaze scanning the room.

  “I do believe she’s baking cookies in the kitchen. If you’d like to go see her, I think there might be one or two waiting for you.”

  Ellie bounded out of John’s lap and headed to the kitchen. Hope trailed behind, her steps slower than her sister’s.

  “Really, John? Cookies? Children should be fed a proper diet.”

  A few seconds later, the girls came back into the room, each of them holding a large cookie. Miranda followed behind them. Her face was flushed from the heat of the oven and a few curls had escaped the knot at her nape.

  Heat that had nothing to do with the cookies baking in the hot oven spread through him. She really was beautiful in an understated way. She’d mentioned in her letter that she was overweight. He didn’t think so at all.

  He looked on as Miranda smiled at his aunt, but he noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think a treat now and then was going to hurt them,” Miranda said, her voice holding a hint of nervousness.

  “Well, far be it for me to criticize,” Aunt Ruth said, “I’m sure you know more than I do about raising children,” she said.

  “No, I don’t ...”

  Ruth crossed the room and rested her hand on Miranda’s. “That’s right. You don’t. And if you don’t listen to those who do, you’ll raise them to be women who won’t know their place or how to act like ladies. And then what man will want them?”

  What man will want them? Hadn’t she heard some variation of those words from her mother, day after day as she grew up? Of course, her mother had added the fact that Miranda was too fat, and not as pretty as Beth. When she was finished, she’d always added ‘I suppose you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear’ with a sigh.

  No, she didn’t know how to raise children, but she knew one thing – Ruth was going to make Hope and Ellie feel they weren’t good enough, that they weren’t pretty enough, or that their whole purpose in life was to catch a man.

  She gave Ruth a sweet smile. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to raise the girls to know everything they need to know.”

  ***

  As the afternoon wore on, John noticed the girls growing more and more withdrawn. When they spoke, it was in response to a question, their voices barely more than whispers.

  He also saw Miranda glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, stifling a sigh.

  Suddenly, she bounded out of the chair. “I’ll be right back.” Then she hurried out of the room.

  John heard her footsteps on the stairs, and less than a minute later, she returned carrying two small packages wrapped in brown paper. She handed one to each of the girls. “I brought you something.”

  Both girls looked to John for his appr
oval to open the gifts. When he nodded slightly, Ellie tore into hers, squealing with delight when she discovered the baby doll inside. Hope carefully untied the string and unfolded the paper carefully, a slow smile lifting her lips when she picked up her baby doll and cradled it in her arms.

  “Thank you for the present,” both girls said in unison.

  Miranda crouched down to their level. “I hope you like them.”

  “I do,” Ellie said brightly.

  Hope nodded.

  “They’re yours to take care of,” Miranda said with a soft smile. “But first you each have to give your doll a name.”

  “I do?” Hope asked, her small forehead creasing in a frown.

  “Of course,” Miranda replied. “You have a name, don’t you?”

  “Uh huh ...”

  “I’m sure your baby dolls would like one too.”

  “I s’pose. You giving your doll a name, Ellie?”

  “Sure,” Ellie replied. “Her name’s going to be Rapunzel, like in the storybook Mama used to read to us. You should call yours Cinderella.”

  Hope pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. Cinderella had to do chores. My doll will be Snow White.”

  “Okay. Let’s take them to our room.”

  Both girls rushed out, their footsteps light. The door banged shut behind them.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Miranda,” John said.

  Miranda smiled. “I wanted to bring them something. I thought it might make it a little easier since I was a stranger coming into their lives. When I was a little girl, my dolls were ... oh, never mind.”

  “That was a nice thing to do.” He smiled at her, his dark eyes meeting hers. Her heart did a pitter-patter behind her ribs. The sensation was strange, but quite pleasant.

  Ellie came back into the room and crossed to stand in front of Miranda. “We want to make them a bed. Can you come help us?”

  Miranda smiled, her heart swelling. This was a start. She gave John a questioning glance. “I’d love to, if your papa doesn’t mind.”

  John grinned. “I don’t mind at all.”

  Miranda rose and followed Ellie out of the room. As she reached the stairs, she heard Ruth’s voice. “I’m sure she means well, John, and I don’t mean to interfere,” Ruth began, “but it’s not wise to spoil children. Children need to learn to work for what they want, not have everything handed to them on a silver platter.”

  “It’s one gift,” John protested. “I don’t think that’s spoiling them, and I’m sure Miranda didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Well, they’re your children,” Aunt Ruth went on. “If you want them to grow up without any sense of responsibility, that’s up to you. Now I must be going. I need to rest. The girls have worn me out with their incessant chatter. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Ruth,” John said, “but it’s really not necessary if the girls tire you too much. Miranda’s here now—”

  “And if yesterday and today were any indication, she really needs someone to teach her how children should be raised.”

  “I—”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  John watched her leave, then sank back into the chair and heaved a sigh. He’d noticed the way Miranda had avoided Ruth’s eyes and the way she’d twisted the plain gold band on her finger when his aunt had criticized the gifts. And he was fairly sure she’d heard Aunt Ruth’s comments about the cookies. No wonder she was anxious to go with the girls.

  This was not working out at all the way he’d expected.

  ***

  Guilt filled Miranda. She had meant well. She’d hoped a small gift would make it a little easier for the children to accept her. And for a few minutes, she’d thought she was making progress. She’d even seen a half-smile on Hope’s face when she’d chosen a cookie from the baking tray.

  How could she ever learn to take care of the children properly? It seemed everything she’d done so far was wrong. Her mother’s words popped into her brain. “Honestly, Miranda, you can’t be trusted to do anything right, can you?” How many times had she heard those words? It seemed she was still useless.

  The door slammed just as Ellie tugged on Miranda’s dress. “Are you coming?”

  Miranda looked down into Ellie’s anxious face, her heart sinking. What if Ruth was right and she wasn’t capable of looking after the girls by herself? John already didn’t want a real marriage, and if she couldn’t be a good mother, he wouldn’t have any reason not to send her back to Beckham.

  Her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. Somehow, in one day, she’d grown to care about these two little girls. And she was very quickly growing to care for their father, too.

  Miranda plastered a smile on her face and let Ellie draw her into the bedroom she and Hope shared. Hope was already sitting cross-legged on the floor, her doll cradled in her arms. She looked up as Miranda and Ellie came in.

  Ellie sat down beside Hope. Hope whispered something to Ellie, and then Ellie looked up at Miranda. “Can you make dresses for our dolls, too?” she asked.

  “I’d love to. Maybe one day soon we can go to the mercantile and pick out some fabric for them,” she replied. “Would you like that?

  Both girls nodded in unison. “But can you help us make a bed for them now?”

  Miranda lowered herself to the floor and sat facing the girls. She glanced around the room, searching for something she could transform into a doll bed. “What do you think we should use?”

  Just then, John appeared in the open doorway and leaned against the jamb. “You girls having a good time?”

  Miranda looked up and met John’s gaze.

  “We are. I heard the front door close. Did your aunt leave?”

  He nodded.

  Was it her imagination, or did she actually see the tension ease from the girls’ faces? “We’re just trying to decide what to use for a bed for Rapunzel and Snow White.”

  John looked toward the ceiling, then a grin spread across his face. “I have the perfect bed for your dolls. I’ll be right back.”

  He disappeared. “What is it?” Ellie called out. No answer. She shifted as if she was going to get up.

  Miranda put a hand on her arm. “I think it’s a surprise. You do like surprises, don’t you?”

  Ellie nodded.

  “Then we have to be patient and wait to see what your papa brings back.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later John came back, an empty bushel basket in his arms. “Will this do?”

  Miranda smiled up at him. She’d never known a man who was so involved with his children, especially daughters. Her respect for him hitched up another notch.

  Ellie clapped her hands in delight, and even Hope got up to help Ellie take the basket from him and carry it across the room where they set it under the window. A frown creased her forehead. “They need covers.”

  “They do,” Miranda agreed, “but it’s very warm right now, isn’t it?”

  Hope nodded, but didn’t speak. “They’ll need one when it gets cold.”

  Miranda got up and took a pillow from the top of the wardrobe. “They will,” she said, “and I’ll make one for them before winter. What about this pillow for them to sleep on?”

  The girls nodded.

  Miranda tucked the pillow into the basket and flattened it.

  Hope and Ellie laid both dolls on the pillow.

  Miranda turned to John. “Do you have a thin towel we could borrow?”

  “Sure do.” He disappeared again and came back with a towel so thin it wouldn’t dry a flea.

  “Perfect.” She tucked the towel around the dolls. “There you are,” she said. “They’ll be snug as bugs there until I can sew a real blanket to keep them warm in the winter.”

  Ellie giggled at Miranda’s reference to insects. For a split second, Miranda thought she might have seen Hope’s lips twitch, but the tiny movement was gone so quickly she was sure she must have imagined it.

  Miranda
got to her feet as gracefully as she could since she’d noticed John watching her, a strange expression on his face. His gaze lowered from her face to her breasts, her hips, her legs. His eyes seemed to darken. His jaw tightened. Did he find her unsightly? Was he sorry he’d married her?

  “What time’s supper?” he asked, his voice suddenly gruff.

  “It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she replied. “I’ll go and set the table right now.”

  Straightening to her full height, she moved to the door, her shoulder brushing against his chest as she passed him. She thought she heard him suck in a breath but she couldn’t be sure.

  Her throat tightened. How was she going to spend the rest of her life with a man who could barely stand to look at her?

  ***

  John closed the iron cemetery gate and trudged down the hill toward home. The sun hovered above the mountains, casting a golden-orange glow across the sky. A soft breeze rustled the tall grass under his feet.

  He’d been so sure marrying again was the answer. A mother for his children. A woman to take care of his home. He’d wanted friendship with his wife, a companion. He hadn’t expected anything else. He especially didn’t expect to feel a shiver of desire run through him whenever he looked at her. He didn’t expect to like hearing her soft breathing as she slept beside him, to feel her warmth, to feel his skin tingle if she accidentally brushed against him or touched him during the night.

  It had been less than a week, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his hands off his new bride. It was only by remembering his vow to Nancy that he’d been able to control the urge he had to wrap his arms around Miranda and carry her off to bed.

  He could tamp down his desire, but what was even worse was that he liked her. She was easy to get along with, laughed easily and treated the girls as if they were her own.

  It would be so easy to fall in love with Miranda, if he could let go of the memories and the promises he’d made. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t break his promise to Nancy.