“Yes, it’s comfortable.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a bath there?” she asked hopefully.
“I’ve got a hip bath, only an old tin thing, it does the job, though.” He limped over to the wagon and fossicked around in the back and withdrew a wooden box which he brought over to them. When he opened it, she saw a couple of tin plates, a mug, cutlery, coffee pot and a pan. There was also a towel and a few essential supplies, obviously he was a well-organized man.
As he returned to the wagon to get the buckets, she checked his supplies, coffee, three tins of beans, a couple of sticks of jerky and a few potatoes. It wasn’t much for three people, although with the bread and strudel Gudrun had given them, it would be more than adequate with plenty left over for breakfast.
On his return Connor filled the coffee pot and placed it on the fire.
“Why don’t we eat the bread and strudel while it’s fresh and save the beans for breakfast?”
“Good idea.” He dropped the potatoes on the coals at the edge of the fire, and using a small shovel, piled extra coals on top. “It won’t take long for them to cook through. Before it gets dark, I’ll sort out our sleeping arrangements. I always carry an extra blanket so you and Max can share one and I’ll have the other.”
“Sleep under the wagon with us.” Max who had been sitting quietly staring into the flames, said. By the look of wonderment on his face she wondered whether perhaps he had never seen an open fire before.
“Anna will be with you.”
“No, she’s a lady, she won’t be able to save me if a grizzly comes.”
“There aren’t any grizzlies around here.”
“A snake?”
“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” Anna said as her own fear escalated. There wouldn’t be any argument from her if he volunteered to sleep next to them. God alone knew what creepy crawlies might invade their sleeping space.
The bread was delicious, so fresh it almost melted in her mouth. Gudrun had thoughtfully cut and buttered it, then wrapped it in a cloth tied up with twine.
“This is good,” Connor said. “Can you make bread?”
“I’m not very good at it. For the last few years I haven’t done any cooking. I worked and boarded at Mr. Moreau’s place.”
Connor’s hand stopped halfway between his mouth and the plate where the bread rested.
“It was all very proper. His rooms were on the ground floor, and the female staff had the loft rooms with his housekeeper there to make sure nothing of an unsavory nature happened.”
“It seems rather a strange situation.”
“It wasn’t a common arrangement that’s true, but he did think differently to most people of his class, until he married a woman young enough to be his daughter and things changed.”
“Is that how you lost your job?”
“Yes, all the staff who moved to New Orleans, well she got rid of them all and he let her do it. So much for loyalty.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t have met Max, would I, sweetheart, so it’s not all bad.”
“You had feelings for this man?” He took a mouthful of coffee.
“No. It was purely an employer and employee relationship, nothing more. It was just so hurtful to think he didn’t care enough about the people who worked for him, even shifted to New Orleans with him. The injustice of it all infuriates me.”
“Rich people abide by a different set of rules to us ordinary folk.”
She nodded.
After they finished eating, they sat without speaking. It was peaceful, the flames seemed somehow mesmerizing.
“If you need to relieve yourselves do it before it gets too dark,” he suddenly said. “You go over there.” He pointed to a clump of bushes. “Max and I will go this way, then we’ll head off to bed. We’ll be up as soon as it’s light.”
Dubiously, she walked over to the bushes, glancing around to make sure no wild animal skulked around. She had never been afraid of the dark before, but she was tired, her nerves were stretched to breaking point at the enormity of the situation she found herself in – married to a man she’d only just met.
The other two were by the fire when she returned. Max was slumped against Connor. “I thought you got lost,” he said. “Max and I were on the verge of searching for you.”
“I nearly did actually. This little boy is exhausted, so am I.” She stifled a yawn. “We were up very early this morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t want another coffee? I didn’t know I wouldn’t be coming home alone, otherwise I would have packed more.”
“I’m all right.” Even a bed roll on the hard ground looked inviting just now. “Goodnight, Connor.”
“Goodnight, Anna, Max.”
“Why don’t you sleep with us,” Max asked.
Yes, why don’t you she nearly said. “We’ll be okay, sweetheart, Connor isn’t far away.” She would be much happier if he was closer to them, much closer. Don’t be such a coward, Anna Simpson. No, it was Anna Grey now.
“Come along, Max.”
“Take your boots off and sleep in your clothes,” Connor instructed.
Once they crawled under the wagon, she unlaced Max’s boots as he had not yet mastered the laces on the new pair she had bought him. The bed roll had already been laid out ready for them. Connor was a thoughtful man, kindly too and well thought of by Pastor Schmidt and his wife.
Max curled up next to her and she covered them with a slightly musty smelling blanket. She would have liked to have let her hair out and brushed it. By tomorrow it would look like a bird’s nest. Connor had said they would drive directly to his place and skip town, which suited her. She didn’t want to be seen in public in such a disheveled and grubby state.
Chapter Eight
Connor lay wrapped in his blanket staring into the flames. He could scarcely believe he was married, and to a beautiful young woman like Anna. She hadn’t seemed to mind his scarred face or maybe she was pretending that it didn’t repulse her.
He hadn’t thought about women since the war. Well, he had thought about them, but hard work and isolation had kept his male urges under control. How was he going to fare with Anna living under his roof? He wasn’t made of stone. Dare he suggest they have a real marriage instead of one in name only? He hadn’t really mentioned one way or the other what he wanted, nor had she.
What a kind person she was to take on the care of a small boy who wasn’t kin. Dammit, he didn’t know what to do? Follow your heart, his ma had always said. He hadn’t needed to before now. If only he had known he was bringing home a wife, he would have cleaned the house up a bit. A gal like her would be shocked, even though he didn’t think the place was that bad. What would a man know about these things anyway?
Ma had kept it clean up until the last couple of years of her life when she’d become too sick to do much. She had been so good to him, suffered so much for him, sadness suddenly overwhelmed him.
A sudden scream rent the air. He didn’t know whether it was Max or Anna. He leapt to his feet and dashed over to the wagon. “What’s wrong?”
“Something touched me.” She crawled out from under the wagon and dashed into his arms. “Oh, Connor, something wet touched my face.”
“Shush, it’s all right, darlin’.” He wrapped his arms around her, and it felt so good he never wanted to let her go.
She trembled against him as he rubbed her back. “You probably dreamt it.”
“I’m sure I didn’t.”
“You’re tired and you’ve had an eventful day.”
Max was awake by this time and clinging to his leg. “Stay with us,” Max pleaded. “I’m scared, too.”
“Okay, I’ll put a log on the fire to….” He stopped himself from saying to ward off any wild animals. By the tremor running through Anna’s body she had guessed the rest of the sentence.
They all crawled under the wagon. Max planted
himself between the two of them. He didn’t know whether to be mad or glad. The child wriggled around like a worm for a while then lay still.
Connor woke up wondering why he felt so content even though the ground beneath him was rock hard. Then he realized Anna was asleep in his arms and Max was on the other side of him. The boy must have climbed out from between them during the night.
By his reckoning it was nearly dawn, not that he was about to move, not yet anyway. He didn’t need to feel guilty as she was his wife after all.
Gently he stroked the soft smooth skin of her cheek and even though he shouldn’t, buried his mouth in the softness of her throat. He ached to make her his wife in the biblical sense. He couldn’t believe the carnal thoughts racing through his brain. With the boy sleeping beside him it would be indecent to even contemplate such a thing. Had they been alone he might have been tempted to try claiming his marital rights and see what happened. His eyes grew heavy and he didn’t bother trying to stay awake.
Anna woke up and couldn’t believe she was lying in Connor’s arms with Max asleep on the other side of him. It felt so right. Gently she ran her hand across his stubbly cheek, feeling the ragged indentation of the scar. The wound must have been deep, and having been shot in the leg also, it was a miracle he had survived.
What would it be like to be his wife in every sense of the word? Butterflies danced and fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Her feelings for this man were becoming so strong it frightened her. What if he didn’t feel anything more than doing the gentlemanly thing of rescuing a lady in distress. She couldn’t believe the foolish thoughts chasing around inside her head. At least she had got a reasonable amount of sleep and felt the better for it.
Dawn’s pink tentacles spread out over the distant mountains. She carefully eased herself out of his arms and crawled out from under the wagon.
The fire had burned down to a glowing bed of red and orange. The coffee pot was still warm, so she placed it in the fire to heat up. She didn’t mind eating cold beans. Connor could have one tin and she could dish half the other tin on to a plate for her and let Max eat the rest out of the tin. She had overheard Connor telling him that on the trail cowboys often ate out of a tin.
She had to do something with her hair, she just couldn’t stand not to brush it. What a sight she must look. She retrieved a brush from her reticule, took the pins holding her hair up and let it tumble loose down over her shoulders. Fifty brush strokes a night was her usual routine and twenty or so in the morning.
She was up to stroke number ten when the brush was removed from her hand by Connor who started brushing her hair. “Ooh, that’s nice.”
He laughed. “And good morning to you, too.”
“Good morning, Connor. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, I did as a matter of fact. And you?”
“Not too bad. Is Max still asleep.?”
“Yes, poor little boy is worn out. We can let him sleep a little while longer. I’ll get the horses harnessed up ready, and when he wakes up, I’ll hitch them to the wagon. I want to be off. We’ve still got a fair way to go.” He ran his hands across his bristly chin. “I could do with a shave.”
“Well, I could just about sell my soul for a nice hot bath.”
He laughed and it was a nice sound sending feelings of, she wasn’t sure what, coursing through her. What was there about this man that made him so appealing?
Men had never really caught her interest until now. Oh, she had eventually wanted to marry a nice man and have babies but had begun to think she never would.
****
Anna’s first view of her new home was of a house built of vertical wooden boards with a shingle roof, unpainted and weathered silver by the elements, sitting amongst trees. Set in the high gable roofline was a narrow loft window.
A large outbuilding was probably the barn and Connor’s workshop. ‘Connor the Cooper,’ did have a nice kind of ring to it. She wondered why she was having such idiotic thoughts.
“Horses and cows,” Max shrieked, jumping up and down.
“Steady on, son, you’ll topple off the wagon if you’re not careful.
They pulled up in the front yard. At one time the garden would have been lovely, now it was overgrown with weeds. She didn’t mind gardening, so that was a job she could do. Connor obviously didn’t have the time or inclination to look after it.
“What do you think?” Pride edged his voice.
“It’s nice.”
A look of disappointment flashed across his face.
“Connor.” She touched his hand. “I really do like it.”
“It’s a good place, only I’ve let it run down.”
“Now I’m here, I can help you build it up again.”
“I won’t have my wife doing the work of a ranch hand.”
“I didn’t mean manual labor; fix the garden up for example, I could easily do that.”
He climbed down, lifted Max out then turned to her, holding her around the waist with her feet dangling several inches from the ground. He stared into her eyes his gaze unwavering.
She ran her tongue nervously across her lips. With a strangled groan, he kissed her, long and deep. When he finally lowered her to the ground, they were both breathing heavily.
“I’ll bring your trunk on to the porch then leave you to your own devices for a while why I attend to the horse and unload my hoops. I can show you around the place later.”
She nodded her head.
“I wanna come with you,” Max said. “Can I, Anna? Can I?”
“Well….”
“He’ll be safe with me. I’m sorry the house is messy. I mean, don’t try to do too much at once, but if you’d fix it a bit I’d be obliged. Ma would be horrified if she could see the state, I let it get into.”
He grabbed her trunk and with her carrying the carpet bag they stepped on to the porch. Excitement surged through her slightly tempered by nerves. Once she stepped over the threshold of Connor’s home there would be no turning back.
He opened the door, dumped the trunk on the floor and she squealed in surprise when he picked her up and carried her inside. “Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Grey.” He kissed the top of her head, set her down and limped off with Max at his heels.
It was good for a little boy to have a man in his life, still it was a little disquieting that he left her so willingly.
She glanced around the quite large parlor, as Madame Hazel would have called it, with an eating place and kitchen combined. Everything was shabby, coated in a film of dust. There were two large, well-worn armchairs. Cowhide mats covering the wooden floor, needed a good shaking. She clamped down on her disappointment. What had she expected from a man who had been living alone for months?
Surprisingly, there were two fireplaces, one in the kitchen where the cook stove stood and another with an intricately carved mantel. The white lace curtains were dusty and dull. A table fashioned from some sort of dark wood had four matching chairs.
There was kitchen dresser and a cupboard under the stairs leading up to the loft area. A cooper worked with timber so would probably be competent in carpentry as well.
She took off her bonnet and placed it on the table. A box sitting on the hearth contained neatly cut kindling, split logs and rolled up paper. It didn’t take long to get the fire going.
Curiosity got the better of her and she retraced her steps. Near the front door was the main bedroom, quite a good size although sparsely furnished with a large double bed, a dresser with a mirror and a large closet. No clothes were lying around, so Connor was tidy in that respect.
Would he expect her to share this bed with him? Her heart beats escalated with nervous anticipation. She knew nothing about what a man expected from his wife but had seen stallions covering mares and wondered whether it was something similar.
A faded maroon quilt covered the bed. Hurriedly she left, not wanting to be caught snooping in his room. There was nothi
ng personal lying around, nothing to indicate if anyone was sleeping in here.”
Back in the kitchen, she filled the coffee pot and placed it on the stove. A row of various sized wooden barrels sat on the mantel. All were neatly labelled. Flour, salt, coffee and sugar.
Did he have a root cellar? She peeked out the window and spied a well near the back porch. At least she wouldn’t be required to lug water up from the river, that’s if there was one.
One end of the porch had been enclosed and turned into a washing room. It contained a copper and a wooden washing trough with a pipe poking through the back wall, to get rid of the water. She spied a couple of wooden buckets with wire handles. A battered hip bath dangled from a hook on the wall. Hopefully she would be able to use it. She had accumulated so much grime from the train trip and the journey here she felt filthy.
Would there be time to run up a batch of biscuits? If she floured the baking tray they shouldn’t stick. She had no idea whether Connor stored lard or not. Without bothering to cover her dress, as it couldn’t get any dirtier, she set to work. Flour, sugar and milk from a tin was all the ingredients she had to work with, but they should suffice.
What they would have for supper she had no idea, not until Connor told her what supplies, if any, he had stored away.
She heard Max’s high-pitched chatter coming from the back porch just as she lifted the biscuits out of the oven. He dashed into the kitchen and rushed up to her. “Anna, I’m going to help Connor from now on, he needs an extra hand.”
“That’s good.”
Connor stepped inside, hung his hat on a peg and sniffed appreciably. “Something smells good.”
“Biscuits, I’m not sure how they’ll taste. I’m not used to your oven and….”
“They’ll be good.”
“Sit down both of you. I’m guessing you take your coffee black.”
“I do here, as I don’t have a milking cow, too inconvenient when I have to leave and there’s no-one to milk her.”
“You can have some nice cool water, Max.”
“I had some out of Connor’s canteen. He never goes anywhere without it.”
Deceived Mail-Order Bride Page 5