Johanna_Bride of Michigan

by Clara Kincaid

  Paul turned her face to him and kissed the tip of her nose. “I must admit you’re quite adorable when you frown like that.”

  Johanna was taken aback. “I-I am? I don’t think I’ve ever thought of myself like that.”

  “I was shocked when I met you at the train station. I had no idea a pretty woman like you would think about becoming a mail-order bride.” He took a sip of the wine. “You’ve told me the reason you decided to take a risk and come out here, but weren’t you courted back in Lawrence?”

  “Actually, I was kept too busy working for the factory to think about anything like that. I hardly think a gentleman would want to court a working-class woman with little means.”

  “They were all fools back in Lawrence, if you ask me.”

  Johanna smiled softly, not commenting on what he said, but then continued her story. “Of course, my mother worked for a Miss Emily Keeting. She suggested I meet and possibly marry her brother, but he was in his sixties. I’d rather take a risk coming out here.”

  Paul smiled. “I can’t say I blame you there. Many women can become prey to men if they have no family to protect them.”

  “If that factory had never burned to the ground, I’d never have left Lawrence.”

  “I can’t imagine how it was for you working at the factory. I’ve heard it’s very grueling and dangerous.”

  Johanna absently rubbed her leg. It was the perfect opportunity to tell Paul about her scar from the factory days, but she just couldn’t do it. “I surely don’t miss it, I tell you that.”

  Johanna gazed across the river and noticed a couple perched on a blanket there with picnic basket in hand. Paul waved and Johanna did the same. “It seems we’re not the only ones picnicking today.”

  “Is there anything else to do in town?”

  “We have a playhouse that just reopened after the old one burned to the ground. We lost four buildings in that fire, one of them a mill. Our production has been doubled ever since.”

  “Oh my, are they rebuilding the mill, too?”

  “No. The owner moved to the Upper Peninsula to begin anew there. Many people in town believe the fire was set, hoping to burn that mill down to the ground, but the playhouse caught fire first, so I’m not sure how accurate that is.”

  “Is there a problem with sabotaging the mills?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid, but I try to deal honestly with the men who work for me, unless they give a reason not to.”

  “Like the bookkeeper?”

  “Exactly, but William is full of hot air and will land on his feet somewhere. I only hope it’s not in Saginaw. If he works for anyone I know, I’ll be the first person to let it be known what he did to me.”

  “If you contact the police, he could be thrown in jail and not ever be able to do that again to anyone.”

  “I know that, but I’d rather let this matter go. William won’t be able to repay me, and I’d rather not have any trouble with him now that I have a wife.”

  “That’s understandable. Your workers count on you for a job.”

  “I’ll have a few men on the lookout at night, just in case. I won’t risk my livelihood on the whims of a thief.”

  They finished eating in silence until it was time for the meringue pie. Paul pulled out the plates, giving Johanna one. She promptly gobbled it up to the point that Paul told her to slow down. “I can’t help myself,” Johanna finally said after she was finished. “I have a sweet tooth.”

  “I can see that. Does Ingrid’s pie pass your taste test?”

  “Oh, yes, very much so.” She patted her stuffed belly. “What now?”

  “We could take a walk along the river. We’re close to the mouth of the bay.”

  Paul helped Johanna up and they put the basket and blanket in the buggy. He took her hand as he led her into the woods, and they were soon on a trail that went along the river. Seagulls were flying overhead, and Johanna ducked her head slightly. “I have a phobia about birds,” she admitted.

  “They certainly can be a little scary, but I think they’d much prefer to eat fish than you.”

  The wind had picked up and Johanna shivered, but she didn’t complain since she enjoyed being on the river. The mouth of the river became much wider, and they went through another strip of trees before they stood at where the river met the bay, as Paul had called it. “This is the bay? Saginaw Bay, to be exact.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “And part of our livelihood. We’re fortunate to have so many rivers in the area, and all of them leading to Saginaw Bay where lumber is taken all over the country. I’m proud to say the lumber we mill winds up in places far and wide, probably right in Lawrence even. Do you know what they call the trees?”

  “No?”

  “Green gold. More money is made with lumber than all the gold mining in the country combined.”

  Johanna was shocked. “Really? I’d have never thought that.” She shivered again.

  “Are you cold?”

  Her teeth chattered. “A-A little.”

  Paul hugged her close, rubbing her arms until she fidgeted. “Not to worry. I was only trying to warm you up.”

  And warm her up he did. She was barely able to form sentences as her body tingled in places she’d rather not think about right then. Paul was making her wish they were home and quite alone. Stop it, Johanna. Neither of you have even expressed how you feel about one another. Johanna rather enjoyed getting to know Paul, and she was a little nervous about it. She wasn’t hurrying to her marriage bed. Going into this, she knew it was expected, but she’s rather delay it if she could, which meant getting away from Paul.

  “I’m plenty warm now,” she announced as she stepped away from him. “Perhaps we should go back.”

  “I agree. The clouds look quite ominous on the horizon. We might get soaked if we don’t get a move on.”

  Johanna didn’t mind that Paul held her so closely, since she didn’t want to lose her way or footing. Even with boots, she still had heels. They hadn’t walked very far when the first sprinkles were felt.

  “We better hurry!” Johanna shrieked as the clouds opened up on them. The icy drops were like needles to her skin. She hadn’t been caught out in rain like this since she was a child coming home from school.

  They hadn’t gone very far when Johanna tripped and landed face-first on the ground with a scream as a stick tore through her dress and puncturing her scar. Despite the rain, she felt the blood gush from the wound. By the time Paul helped her to her feet, she was sobbing at the throbbing pain. How will I be able to conceal my scar now?

  Paul glanced down at her dress and swept her up into his arms, carrying her the remainder of the way to the buggy. He quickly set her inside, and the partial cover on the buggy helped to shelter them from the rain showers. He ripped the sleeve from his shirt and tied it around her leg to staunch the flow of blood.

  Slapping the reins much harder than before, the horses raced back to town. He barely stopped the horses when they were back home before helping Johanna down. He again took her into his arms, strutting through the opened door.

  “What on earth?” Cecilia exclaimed.

  “Now is not the time, Mother.” He sighed. “Sara, I’ll need your help upstairs. Johanna is hurt.”

  “Sara is hardly qualified,” Cecilia retorted.

  “She’s my lady’s maid and I want her to assist me, unless you want me bleeding all over the floor,” Johanna declared.

  Paul carried her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her door was kicked open and he set her down on the bed. When he moved to help Johanna off with her dress, she shrieked. “Sara can do that.”

  “You’re my wife, Johanna,” he reminded her. “And you’re injured. We need to get you out of this drenched dress.”

  Tears raced down her face. “But you can’t, you simply can’t!”

  Paul wasn’t listening as he stood her up and turned her so he could work on her buttons, even though Sara stood close by. “I shoul
d get some hot water and bandages,” Sara muttered.

  “Please do.”

  Johanna was past panicked when Sara left the room and she was alone with Paul. He pulled her dress up and off, her corset next in the pile until she was only standing in her blood-soaked chemise. He went to take it off and Johanna sat, begging, “Please, d-don’t.”

  “Fine, but I need to take a look at your leg.”

  When he moved her chemise slightly up, she screamed. “Please, stop!” she implored him.

  He gently tugged up the fabric despite her protests as Sara rushed into the room with water in a pitcher and clean cloths. Paul didn’t move out of Sara’s way; he wet the cloths in the water and began cleaning Johanna’s wound. It took a few times of swiping the cloth along her leg before his eyes widened. “I-I tried to tell you not to look at my leg, and now you know how grotesque I really am,” Johanna cried.

  “All I’m interested in is cleaning your wound. Sara, fetch the doctor. I think she needs stitches.”

  Sara bounded from the room and Paul pressed the cloth on her leg to help stem the blood flow. Johanna was quite dizzy by that point. “I need to lie down. I think I’m going to faint.”

  “Of course. You’re bleeding quite badly. I’ll hold a cloth over your leg until the doctor comes. I could close the wound, but I’m too shaky at the moment,” he admitted.

  Paul’s eyes were widened with genuine concern mirrored in them. Sweat dripped from his brow, his jaw tight, eyes glistening, and Johanna knew it had nothing to do with sweat. She was shocked at how upset he appeared, as if he really cared for her. Did he?

  Johanna fluttered her eyelids. Once she had closed her eyes, it was as if she was sucked down a tunnel. Her heart went from pounding when Paul moved her chemise to a dull thud. Her breath was coming much shorter, and she coughed several times to clear her throat enough to take in a deeper breath. Sweat broke out on her brow and she hurt worse than she remembered when she had injured her leg at the factory. It throbbed with every beat of her heart, and she wasn’t able to stop herself from blacking out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Paul’s eyes were glued to Johanna as she closed her eyes and didn’t open them again. Her chest rose and fell, but she was much too pale. She had struggled to breathe, but once she passed out, it seemed much easier. He prayed the doctor would get there in time.

  “Is she okay?” his mother asked as she joined him.

  “Why don’t you go downstairs and wait for the doctor.”

  She opened her mouth then snapped it closed again as though she thought better of speaking for the moment. He didn’t mean to snap at his mother, but he knew how she could be at times and right then, he wanted to focus on Johanna. It was unfortunate timing that she had returned so soon after she left, but all he could think about was his wife and getting her through this.

  When Johanna fought him like a wild cat, he knew there must have been a reason. She was trying to hide the scar she had. It wasn’t hideous to him, but a part of the woman he loved and called wife. He added another cloth to stem the flow of blood when there was a knock at the door. In came the doctor with his medical bag, which he set down next to the bed.

  “I’ll take over,” Dr. Phelps said. “What happened?”

  “She fell by the river. I think a stick might have injured her.”

  The doctor removed the cloths and cleaned the wound with a liquid from a bottle in his bag, covering it with a clean cloth. “Hold this for me, Paul.”

  Paul held the cloth while the doctor threaded a needle, turning back to Johanna. “It might be a good idea to hold her down in case she wakes up.”

  Paul nodded and went to the opposite side of the bed, placing an arm across Johanna’s chest and arms. The doctor began to close the wound and Johanna tried to jerk upward, but Paul held her in place. “The doctor is sewing your wound closed.”

  Her eyes widened. “I want Sara here.”

  “I can’t leave you now.”

  She nodded then screamed in pain and it broke Paul’s heart, but he couldn’t do anything for her at that moment. When her head wobbled sideways, he knew she had passed out again.

  When the doctor finished, he washed up. “I’ll leave you something for pain, but right now, she needs to rest. Keep her off that leg for a few days and if she gets feverish, call me back over here.”

  When the doctor left, Paul took Johanna’s hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Don’t leave me, my love. I don’t think I could bear it now.”

  Sara cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Worthington. Perhaps we should put a clean chemise on her now.”

  “Of course. I’ll let you do that, unless you want me to help.”

  “I think I can handle it, but I’ll let you know once she’s out of that wet chemise.”

  “I would have taken it off already, but she was fighting me.”

  “Well, you haven’t even been to your marriage bed as of yet. I’m sure she was frightened.”

  “She was hiding that scar. Were you aware of it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, I suppose not, but I wish she had told me about it. It’s not like I’d send her away. We all have our imperfections.”

  Paul left the room and waited until Sara came out and told him Johanna was changed. He walked back into the room, taking residence on a chair near the bed.

  “What happened?” Sara finally asked.

  “We had a picnic and I took her to the mouth of the bay. Unfortunately, a storm blew up and we had to make a run for it in the rain. I should have carried her so she wouldn’t fall.”

  “It’s not your fault. Accidents happen.”

  “I wonder how she injured her leg to create a scar like that.”

  “You’ll have to ask her when she wakes up.”

  Paul nodded. He was glad Johanna had confided in Sara. She needed someone to talk to until she made friends, although Paul knew Johanna wasn’t the type to make friends with the other lumber barons’ wives. She came from a working-class environment and seemed to easily relate to Becky. It would take time to introduce her around properly. He only hoped he’d get the chance.

  Intermittently, Paul got up and put a cool cloth on Johanna’s head. Sweat covered her brow, pooling in the crease of her neck, even dampening the clean chemise she wore. He made sure the blankets were pulled back in case she had a fever raging, although she felt cool to the touch.

  Sara was perched in a chair on the opposite side of the bed. From the determined look in her eye, she had no intention of leaving, so he didn’t ask her to. When Johanna woke up, he wanted her to feel comfortable, not put upon by his presence. He would be very protective of her until she recovered, even if that meant he’d have to tell his mother to stay away. She had her moments of making the wrong kind of comments at the worst time. Perhaps he’d have a little talk with her about that. Johanna was his wife and should be spoken to and treated with respect. He wanted this home to be a happy one.

  * * *

  Johanna thrashed in her sleep, trying to escape the throbbing pain in her leg. Suddenly, she felt hands on her. Why are they holding me down? She moved more frantically until Paul said, “Calm down, Johanna. I’m trying to help you.” A cool cloth was applied to her brow and she jerked her head to remove it. She wasn’t of the mind to know if she was dreaming or what was really happening. All she knew was it felt like someone had speared her leg. She tried to open her eyes, but it was as if they were glued together.

  “Should I fetch the doctor?” Sara asked.

  “What good will that do?” Cecilia replied. “Can’t you see she’s too injured to pull through?”

  “Please, Mother,” Paul choked out. “You’re really not helping here. Go back downstairs.”

  Footsteps moved toward the door and it was closed none too gently. Johanna snapped her eyes open, gazing into Paul’s concerned ones. He looked haggard, with razor stubble peppering his face. She then glanced across the bed at Sara, who was equally unkem
pt.

  “H-How long have I been here?”

  “In the bed, or Saginaw?” Paul asked.

  “In this bed, silly.”

  Paul smiled down at her. “Five long days. Your leg is on the mend, but you’ve had a raging fever.” He felt her brow. “It’s much cooler now.”

  “Why were you holding me down?”

  “We had to. Otherwise, you’d have thrown yourself off the bed.”

  “Oh, my leg still hurts horribly.”

  “It was a four-inch gash, but the doctor has been here every day changing your bandages. He was concerned about why you hadn’t woken up yet. He told us if you didn’t soon that you might never,” Paul explained. “I wasn’t about to let you go, so we did whatever we could to keep you cool.”

  Johanna reached for a blanket, but Paul stilled her hand. “Not yet. I want to make sure the fever is gone for good.”

  “But I’m nearly naked!”

  “Sara changed your chemise not long ago, but you’ve been soaking through them. We’ve kept a sheet on you, though.”

  “Can I get something to drink?”

  Paul poured a glass of water and helped Johanna to lean up, drinking from it. She grabbed it, taking large gulps until Paul stopped her. “Not so fast.”

  “I’m so parched.”

  “I know, but you’ll have to take your time.”

  Paul put the glass back on the nightstand and eased down on a chair. He swiped a hand through his hair, a slight smile on his lips. “I’m so glad you woke up. I don’t think I want to be known as the man who killed his mail-order bride.”

  “It wouldn’t have been your fault. I’m the clumsy one who fell.”

  “Ah, so you do remember.”

  “Yes, but I’m a little hazy about what happened after that.”

  “I carried you back to the buggy and brought you home. I swear I should never have taken you to the mouth of the bay when a storm was brewing, but I was sure it was going to blow over.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. I hope you don’t mind that you married a disfigured woman.”