A Bride of Convenience

by Jody Hedlund

  Her fingers trembled as she opened the sheet. It didn’t want to unfold, and she had to give it a violent shake before it straightened. She scanned the neat flowing print inside before settling on the first line.

  My dearest Abraham, I cannot begin to express the joy I felt upon receiving your last letter containing your marriage proposal asking me to sail to the colony so that we might be together for the duration of your missionary service. Your invitation came at a moment of great trial and unhappiness at the dissolution of my engagement to Daniel Patterson.

  Zoe sucked in a sharp breath and then scrambled to keep reading, skimming over the part about how Lizzy had learned of Daniel’s unfaithfulness, how she’d been heartbroken, how Abe’s letter had come just when she’d needed it.

  At the end, Zoe read each word carefully. All that to say, yes, darling. I accept your proposal of marriage and have made plans to sail to British Columbia on the Falmouth, leaving before the New Year. By the time you receive this letter, I hope to arrive shortly thereafter. I will be forever and always your faithful friend. Lizzy.

  Zoe reread the closing and then let the letter fall to the table.

  Lizzy was coming to British Columbia. And she planned to marry Abe.

  twenty-eight

  For an endless moment, Zoe stared at the letter, unable to move or think.

  Finally Violet’s disgruntled cry over being ignored forced Zoe out of her stupor. She hoisted the babe to her hip, then crossed to the bookshelf, dug behind the stack of books, and retrieved the gilded frame. From beneath a film of dust, Lizzy’s serious and yet elegant face peered back at her.

  The woman Abe loved was sailing here to marry him. In fact, she could arrive any day and at any moment.

  Violet tried to grab the frame at the same time Zoe glanced to the door and tensed for the woman’s knock.

  After a few seconds of silence, Zoe released a laugh that came out much too shaky and high-pitched.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said to Violet. “Lizzy isn’t gonna come up to Yale. She’ll stop in Victoria first. Most likely she’ll seek out Bishop Hills. And she’ll learn Abe’s already married and unavailable.”

  But was he unavailable?

  The question made her knees weak so that she groped for the nearest chair and lowered herself onto it with Violet in her lap. She sat back and closed her eyes against the certainty of what she knew she had to do.

  Since the bishop’s visit, the pressure had been building—the pressure to separate from Abe and give him freedom.

  Today, after calling on Wanda and the disagreement over what to do with Lyle, their differences had become even clearer. And now Lizzy’s letter seemed like the final confirmation. There was no more doubt about it. Zoe needed to leave Abe. Today. Now. Before he came home and tried to stop her.

  And he would try. Because that’s the kind of man he was . . . honorable to his own detriment. He’d never agree to do anything that might harm her reputation or put her at risk. And he’d likely insist on staying together though no good could come of it—even to the point that he would deny himself the opportunity of having Lizzy, who now clearly wanted him and was coming to be with him.

  With Lizzy, Abe would be able to realize his potential. He’d please the bishop. He’d be able to return to England without blemish. And he could pursue becoming a bishop, unhindered by a mill girl. Or by lowly children.

  Meanwhile, she’d travel to Williamsville and attempt to make a new life for herself there, hopefully with Zeke’s help. Once she was settled, she’d send for Lyle. And maybe she’d even convince Will to come live with her so she could be the mum he needed. She’d continue to follow God’s leading in caring for the children He brought to her.

  The realization of what she needed to do nudged her, yet she couldn’t make herself rise from the chair. All she could do was let her gaze drift over the cabin, seeing Abe everywhere—the way he sat with his legs outstretched in front of the stove, one of his books in his lap and his reading glasses perched on his nose, his adoring smile as he tickled Violet’s stomach, the peaceful look on his handsome face on the pillow next to hers, the eager glimmer in his eyes whenever he opened the door to one of his parishioners, the kindness in his expression as he patiently explained truths to Will while they ate supper.

  Zoe’s throat tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. At the thought of endless days and nights without him, her future stretched out before her, bleak, almost unbearable. Was it possible she’d fallen in love with her husband?

  The pain in her heart swelled up so that the tears spilled over and started to run down her cheeks. She pressed a fist against her mouth to keep from crying out, and she fought hard against her need for him.

  “This is exactly what you told yourself not to do,” she chided herself harshly. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him.”

  As if hearing the turmoil in Zoe’s voice, Violet twisted around, reached up, and touched the tears. Her beautiful eyes widened, and then she pressed her hand against Zoe’s cheek as if to say that together they’d be okay.

  Zoe inhaled a shaky breath. “Aye, my sweet one. God gave you to me, and I won’t let you go. Not unless He makes it very clear He has better plans for you with someone else.”

  Violet lifted her chin and scrunched her face into a smile that revealed her gums and made her utterly adorable. Zoe bent in and hugged the babe, breathing in the clean scent of lavender soap. Violet leaned in and seemed to hug Zoe back, but then just as quickly began to wiggle, ready to play and move about.

  Zoe forced herself up from the chair and positioned Violet back on the blanket on the floor with her toys. Then she set to work packing her bag.

  She had a great deal more now than when she’d left Manchester, more even than after she’d departed from Victoria. In fact, with all Violet’s clothes, blankets, toys, and necessities, she found she needed a second bag, one she hoped Abe wouldn’t mind her taking.

  When she’d gathered everything they needed for the journey, she bundled Violet and returned her to the cradleboard. Bags in hand, she stepped out of the cabin, peeking toward Little Joe’s cabin to make sure he wasn’t watching. Assured her doting neighbor wasn’t in view, she closed the door and hurried down the path toward town, praying she wouldn’t run into Abe or anyone else who might ask her questions about where she was going.

  With caravans of miners leaving all the time, she suspected she’d have no trouble finding a group willing to let her tag along and share their food provisions with her, since she only had enough room for Violet’s supplies. At least that’s what she was counting on.

  As she made her way along the riverfront, pesky doubts swarmed after her. Abe had warned her about the difficulty of the road. Was she taking too great a risk? The heavy rains of recent days made the new sprouts of grass soggy beneath Zoe’s boots so that by the time she reached the opposite edge of town, her boots and socks were damp and her toes cold.

  A dozen or more mules were already loaded, packs of supplies tied upon their backs. Men milled about, many with new bags, awaiting their first venture up into the canyons in search of gold.

  As the prospectors caught sight of her, they ceased their interactions, and silence descended so that blasts of an approaching steamer echoed in the air from the river behind them. Although Yale had grown busier in recent weeks, she hadn’t realized exactly how many steamboats and miners were arriving from downriver every day.

  Zoe surveyed the group that was readying to leave, trying to figure out which person might be the leader and the one she should speak to about joining the caravan.

  “Can I help you, miss?” A tall man with a bushy beard stepped out from behind a mule with a mountain-high mound on its back. From the stains on his trousers, his dusty coat, and his well-worn hat, she guessed he was an old-timer of the goldfields.

  “I’m looking for a caravan to ride with.” She straightened her shoulders and attempted to make herself look bigger and stronger so that
he wouldn’t have any reason for turning her away.

  He studied her, his expression revealing nothing of what he was thinking. “You bringing the babe?”

  “Aye.”

  “It’ll be hard going at times even without the extra load.”

  “I’m stronger than I look.” At least she hoped she was.

  His gaze shot behind her, then flickered with apprehension.

  Before Zoe could turn and find out what had gained his attention, someone spoke. “I’ll take care of her.”

  She spun to find Dexter Dawson striding her way. “Well, if it isn’t Zoe Hart herself. You’re looking as pretty as always.”

  He was walking from the direction of the wharf where several of his companions lounged against their gunnysacks, likely having arrived on one of the steamers still tied along the quay. She hadn’t thought much about Dexter since Abe’s black eye had faded. But she should have guessed the miner would eventually arrive in Yale before heading up to the goldfields.

  “What do you want?” she asked, remembering Bishop Hills’s warning that Dexter was planning to fight Abe. She prayed by now he’d given up his need for a brawl.

  His brown hair and beard were longer than they’d been the last time she’d seen him. Even so, he was handsome in a self-assured kind of way. “Nice to see you too.”

  “I’m not interested in talking to you.” She lowered her bags, her arms already tired from holding them, and then returned her attention to the bushy-bearded miner.

  “You might be interested,” Dexter continued, “when I tell you I can take you all the way up to Williamsville to your brother.”

  She paused in working the kinks out of her arms.

  “Thought so.” He laughed. “I guess things didn’t work out with the holy man?”

  “My business isn’t any of your concern.” She huffed with irritation that Dexter already had figured out her dire straits. “I’m sure I can get to Williamsville just fine without your help. These nice fellas were about to let me join up with them.”

  “These nice fellas don’t have any room for you.” Dexter’s voice took on a hard edge. “Ain’t that right, McLean?”

  The bushy-bearded man gave a curt nod without meeting Zoe’s gaze. “That’s right.”

  “See?” Dexter was close enough now that she could smell the rum on his breath. “And I’m guessing if you ask around, no one else is gonna have room for you either.”

  “You’re planning to make sure of that, aren’t you?”

  “Yep.” Though he grinned, something about it was hard, even dangerous. “Since you want to go, I’m your best option.”

  “My only option,” she groused as she picked up her bags.

  He started to take them from her, but she clung to the handles. “Listen, Zoe.” Dexter lowered his voice. “I can help you. So let me. Okay?”

  She hesitated. She didn’t want to give Dexter the idea that she was interested in him. Maybe she’d been willing to marry him once. But after the past few months of being with Abe, she couldn’t see herself marrying anyone else, at least not anytime soon. Even just thinking about Abe brought a wave of sadness and loneliness she didn’t want to feel.

  “I’m not planning to marry you, Dexter.”

  “Maybe not. But I can still help you find your brother.”

  She’d known enough fellas like Dexter, and they never did anything for nothing. “What’s in it for you?”

  His answering grin was slow. “There’s plenty in it for me. Don’t you worry about that.”

  She scowled. “Just because I’m leaving Abe doesn’t mean I’m a loose woman.”

  He laughed.

  She jerked her bags in an attempt to wrest them from his grasp.

  “I’m not a brute, Zoe.” His expression turned serious. “I prefer a willing woman.”

  She understood exactly what he was talking about. When Abe had kissed her earlier, she’d been all too willing to fall into his arms, all too willing to kiss him back, all too willing to press nearer. She’d never felt that way with anyone before and doubted she ever would again.

  “I need to leave soon.” She glanced toward town, hoping to see Abe racing along the river toward her, while another part of her prayed she wouldn’t have to face him again. Doing so would make her second-guess her decision, and she couldn’t do that.

  “He doesn’t know you’re leaving?”

  “No.”

  “Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?”

  She hung her head. What she was doing to Abe was downright lousy. But what other choice did she have? “I don’t want him to try to change my mind.”

  “He won’t.” Dexter’s voice contained too much confidence for Zoe’s taste. “Besides, we’ll be on our way once my men are back with the horses.”

  She released her bags, and Dexter easily hefted them up to his shoulders. As he started toward his supplies, she followed behind, telling herself she was lucky to find Dexter today, that riding with him was better than tagging along with a group of strangers.

  But even with the reassurances, she couldn’t keep from thinking she’d made her worst decision yet.

  Zoe sat atop her bags with Violet on her lap. The sunshine blanketed them with surprising warmth so that she’d shed her headscarf and shawl.

  Violet didn’t seem to be in any discomfort. She was bent over and too distracted by digging her fingers into the soft growth of new grass.

  Dexter and his four companions readied their horses, talking among themselves and casting her glances. She supposed Dexter had to give them some explanation for why he was helping her, and she still couldn’t figure out what that might be.

  But with the other caravan well on their way without her, she had little choice but to stay with Dexter.

  Unless she waited for Abe to take her up to Williamsville. He’d said he would once he was done with the church-building project.

  Violet lifted a fist to her mouth, opened wide, and shoved in the grass she’d managed to pluck.

  “No, no, wee one.” Zoe pulled Violet’s hand away but was too late. Violet was already gumming the tiny green blades. She chewed only for a moment before her face contorted and she began to spit them out.

  At the disgust in the infant’s expression, Zoe burst out laughing. But as soon as she allowed herself the moment of mirth, grief swelled to replace it. Abe would have laughed too. And Zoe loved his laughter, the way his blue eyes danced, and the peace that settled over his features.

  “Oh, Violet, what have I done?” She wiped the grass away from Violet’s mouth, and anguish ripped at her heart. She couldn’t leave Abe. She loved him too much to simply walk away.

  Aye, she’d be selfish to stay, but how could she live without him? And the truth was, he seemed happy with her. They enjoyed being together, talked as friends, and made a good team in serving his parishioners.

  Surely they could work out their differences regarding Violet and Lyle. Maybe Abe didn’t ever have to know about the letter from Lizzy. . . .

  At the thought, Zoe rose so suddenly she nearly stumbled backward over the bags. At her movement, Dexter’s attention jerked to her, his brows rising.

  All she needed to do was go directly home and toss Lizzy’s letter into the stove. She could destroy it within seconds, and Abe would never be the wiser. Unless Mr. Allard asked him about it. Or until Lizzy showed up in Yale.

  Zoe paced forward and then back, her mind racing with possibilities. Maybe she could warn Mr. Allard not to say anything. And maybe Lizzy would turn around and sail home after learning of Abe’s marriage. Or maybe the gentlewoman would still embark on the journey to Yale, in which case maybe they’d be gone upriver. Whatever happened, Zoe couldn’t allow Lizzy to have Abe, could she?

  Possessiveness swelled within Zoe. Abe was hers. Aye, he might have married her only because he’d believed he’d lost Lizzy forever. But he was still her husband, and now they needed to make the best of their situation.

  With a final finger sw
ipe inside Violet’s mouth to dislodge any more grass, Zoe reached for the cradleboard, situated Violet inside, and worked to slip it on over her shoulders. Once Violet was secure, she hefted her bags from the ground and then turned to let Dexter know.

  He’d been tying the last of the saddlebags onto a mare, his gaze half on her and half on what he was doing.

  “I’ve decided not to go to Williamsville right now after all.”

  At her declaration, he cursed under his breath and started toward her.

  “I don’t want to leave Abe.”

  “That lover’s spat didn’t last long.” Dexter’s tone was loaded with derision.

  “It wasn’t a lover’s spat.” Aye, she and Abe didn’t see eye to eye on what they needed to do about Violet or Lyle or even about the future. But surely if they prayed together, God would direct them. Maybe God would help them find loving homes for both of the children. And even though she didn’t want to return to England, she’d work hard to become the proper wife Abe needed so she wouldn’t harm his ministry there. Being with Abe was all that mattered. Together, they could face whatever came their way.

  “I don’t care what happened,” Dexter said. “You know as well as I do you’re not Abraham Merivale’s type.”

  She fought against the truth of his words. “We’re happy together.”

  “If you’re so happy, then why are you here?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “What I understand is that you were never meant to marry him in the first place. And now you finally realize your mistake.”

  Was it a mistake? Doubts once again rolled in to cloud Zoe’s thoughts.

  Dexter took hold of her arm and tugged her forward. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  For several steps she couldn’t find the will to resist him. He’d voiced her fears and maybe even the truth. How could she stay? But how could she leave? She pulled back from Dexter. “I need to go talk to him.” It was the least she could do before going.