Mail Order Clara

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Mail Order Clara Page 3

by Ginny Sterling


  “That this obviously isn’t a love match? You certainly know how to woo a woman.”

  “Wooing wasn’t my intention, ever. Having food in my belly, a warm welcoming home, and someone to talk to-this was the sole reason I placed the ad. Can you do those things, be a part of my world, or shall I step aside for you to make it back onto the stagecoach?”

  Clara stared up at him in surprise at his raw candidness.

  He truly wasn’t pressuring her for more than those simple things?

  She almost felt sorry for him. Were things so very tough on his ranch that he was longing for a good meal and company? The same things that she was looking for and needed?

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Your decision, if you please? The sun will be setting soon and I’ve already been away from my ranch for far too long today.”

  “A marriage in name only?”

  “Until you decide otherwise,” James said firmly. “Your husband must have been something terrible to you before he died.”

  “I’m not a widow.”

  “I won’t marry someone who’s unfaithful or running away from a spouse.”

  “Why on earth would you think…” Clara began only to have Jack begin jumping at her feet, throwing himself bodily at her with his arms extended-a sure sign he wanted to be picked up again.

  James gave her a pointed look, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

  “He’s my brother,” Clara admitted quietly.

  “I made a promise to watch out for him when our parents died. Do you still agree to me becoming your wife knowing I didn’t tell you about my brother coming with me?”

  “I understand about family bonds only too well—and yes, I do.”

  Clara found herself, Jack, and James announcing their intention to be man and wife before the sheriff as he sat on a bench outside the Birdcage Theater. Common law marriages weren’t unheard of after the Civil War and apparently very common here in the West, hence the name. Clara had always hoped for something terribly romantic or glamourous deep down inside, but this marriage was nothing like that. It was as close to a parody of her life recently in the last few weeks, as anything could have been.

  Cold.

  Loveless.

  A farce, driven by duty, and a need to provide for Jack.

  Welcome to Tombstone, Clara thought sadly, realizing the name also fit.

  Chapter 5

  Clara was pleasantly surprised to see that her new husband was a man of his word. He had brought her home and abruptly left her there with Jack. It was almost as if he feared her, nearly tripping as he backed out of the house and disappeared into the sunset… literally.

  The brilliant orange Arizona sunset was a raw contrast against the darkening skies. James’ dark silhouette was emblazoned in her mind as she realized she was staring at him, attracted to the stranger she now claimed as her husband. Perhaps that was the reason he’d disappeared so quickly? She had been drawn to him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him, and it was a little unnerving to feel such attraction flare within her. Thank God for Jack though, the toddler kept her grounded with his constant demands for attention.

  “Clara, I sweepy,” Jack announced, rubbing his eyes.

  James escaped in that moment, shutting the door behind him.

  Clara set herself to work, finding a place for Jack to sleep. There were only two bedrooms in the small ranch home. One apparently belonged to James. The crumpled bedding on the mattress was evidence that he’d slept there and seemed so personal.

  The other room was to be hers.

  She was touched that he’d seemed to take great care in making sure she felt welcome. A new ceramic basin and pitcher sat atop a worn dresser. It wasn’t a tin one that was serviceable, no - this one was stunning and surprised her. The pitcher had a rose painted on the side that looked strangely out of place in the wooden frame house. There was also a bright coverlet on the bed that made the room look feminine. Placing her bag on the bed, she dug out her serviceable dresses as well as Jack’s things, placing them on hooks and within the dresser.

  “Jack, come lay down, sweetie.”

  The boy immediately struggled to climb onto the bed and she had to help him up. The more he ran around, the more she saw the boy in him instead of the clingy toddler.

  “I wanna go home,” he whispered, rolling over and putting his thumb in his mouth. Clara sighed heavily and was relieved he was tired enough to do bedtime willingly tonight. She wasn’t prepared to battle him and didn’t even have the emotional energy to argue with him about sucking his thumb.

  “You are home now,” she whispered, brushing back his curls from his face. “We are both going to make this our new home.”

  Leaving the room, she quietly stepped out and waited for any signs that James would return. She immediately set herself to work, expecting the worst of the situation and unsure what to expect. After Phineas, she expected her new husband to have lied to her, especially after he claimed to be related to those ruffians that highjacked the stage upon arrival into town.

  What kind of lawless area was this place?

  She slowly inspected the tins on the windowsill and the shelf, discovering a large pantry hidden behind a makeshift door. There was even a cellar entrance in the pantry floor that was a little disconcerting, with a wooden latch that didn’t look too sturdy to stand on. It would be exciting to be able to explore the land around the home in the daylight and to see what the area looked like.

  Clara wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, taking a seat in the rocking chair beside the hearth. She would simply wait and see what would come next in her world, praying that they were done with all the emotional trauma as of late.

  She felt so drained, so tired, and so lost. This home wasn’t anything she recognized, but she appreciated the fact that her new husband put some sort of effort forth more than he would ever understand. Rocking slowly, she closed her eyes, and finally gave in to the exhaustion.

  “Clara! You wakie?” Jack’s hands slapped at her knees where she’d fallen asleep and spent the evening in the chair. Her neck ached painfully.

  “Yes, I’m awake now. Did you sleep well?”

  “Uh huh,” he nodded happily, making his bright hair bounce with each bob of his chin. Clara smiled lightly. To feel so carefree and joyous would be a blessing, she thought sadly. Right now, she felt so adrift.

  “Hungee!”

  “Me too, buddy,” she agreed, getting up from the chair and stretching hard. Rubbing her neck, she walked to the pantry and dug out a few eggs from a wire basket.

  “Apparently we have chickens here, Jack. Can you say ‘chicken’?”

  “Chich-en.”

  “Close enough,” Clara grinned, picking up a piece of salted pork that hung in a bag on a nail. “Breakfast might not be much but we’ll have a delicious supper.”

  “Hungee, Clara,” he repeated, stomping his foot and glaring at her. Clara just shook her head and cracked the eggs into a bowl. “Jack, can you get me another two eggs? Be very careful with them so they don’t break and we’ll make James something to eat too.”

  She watched as he held the eggs, one in each hand, meandering. It was almost comical that he seemed to think that the speed his legs carried him would affect how hard he squeezed on the shells. A little pink tongue stuck out to the side with concentration.

  “You’ve got it,” she praised, taking the eggs from him and within no time, Jack was shoveling his breakfast into his mouth with his hands. Clara grimaced, realizing that she would need to start working with him regarding his manners so he didn’t make a bad impression with James.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Walking out the front door of the house, she stepped onto the stoop and saw that it was still early out. The sun was barely coming over the hills in the distance.

  “James? Can you hear me?” she called out and saw they were surrounded by open flat lands. The remnants of an attempted garden ran a
long the side of the house and a well was off in the distance. Rounding the corner of the building, she saw a barn not far off and realized that her new husband must have slept there instead of returning. She felt a pang of discomfort at forcing him out of his home.

  Her new husband had run off as she suspected, after all. He had claimed to want company, someone to talk to, but obviously it wasn’t her company he’d been thinking of… despite what he’d said in town.

  Why do you care? She thought to herself and realized it shouldn’t bother her, but deep down inside; it did—a lot. She could use a friend and companionship in this new land, and he had taken that option from her. There was no one else out here other than Jack and James. One was still learning to talk, walk, and growing… and the other?

  The other she desperately wanted to know more about, she realized. She was curious about him. He was obviously different from his brothers, but she wanted to know why. She wanted to see that smile again and learn what made him tick. Why would a man - as gorgeous as he was - send off for a bride?

  Why not take a bride here?

  Walking back into the house, Clara silently put things away and cleaned up after their meal. Jack was exploring the small house and talking to himself in a high-pitched voice that was endearing.

  “Ohhh, wook at that… and dis? Dis is so speshel, wite my Clara? Lookey dis!” Jack went on and on, repeating about how ‘speshel’ things were and inspecting every corner.

  This was all some grand adventure for him, and exploration was key. At least this way, she could keep him contained a bit and ease some of his curiosity at the same time. She would do the same thing when it came to be exploring outside. They would tackle the ‘newness’ for Jack, one area at a time, to prevent him from venturing out on his own.

  Clara worked on cutting up some potatoes she found on the shelf of the pantry and a few turnips. The salted pork she found would make a good base for some sort of an odd mishmash of food that would be edible. She would simply cook the beans, pork, potatoes, and turnips all together, making a loaf of bread or some rolls to sop up any gravy in the bowls.

  She wasn’t the greatest cook, but had made no one sick as of yet. Mentally, she made a list of things to ask for in order to be able to make things a little more palatable for them all.

  Sometime later, she dusted off the flour from her hands onto her apron and smiled at Jack. He’d been playing quietly in a tin wash tub that was either for bathing or laundry. He’d been happily banging on it with a wooden spoon for a while now, giggling and playing contentedly. Maybe she would try wearing him out again, by giving him a warm bath this evening in hopes to get him to go to sleep easily.

  It had been such a blessing to have him nod off without a fight. She could really use a moment of peace like that again this evening.

  “Want to go find the chickens, Jack?”

  “Yes! Chich-en!”

  “Exactly. Come, take my hand, and we’ll see if we can find them,” she offered easily. The day was getting away from her and this was a perfect time to let the makeshift stew cook down, the dough to rise, and for her to see if she could find out where James was. She didn’t have far to go to answer her unspoken questions.

  He was there, off in the distance, on horseback. Several heads of cattle were surrounding him. He was busy and she didn’t want to interrupt him, nor worry about Jack getting stepped on or trampled. It would not do to have him darting in and out between the legs of the large steers.

  Raising a hand automatically, she was surprised and happy to see him do the same in acknowledgement. She couldn’t help the smile that blossomed in her heart. What would it be like to be friends with James? Could they develop a fondness between them like her parents had, if given enough time, or was she hoping for too much? Right now, she would simply be content to have a feeling of safety and comfort in knowing they were taken care of. That single wave from him meant that to her.

  “Clara?”

  She felt a yank at her hand as Jack tugged impatiently towards the barn. Kneeling down, she pointed at the small structure over beside a strange tree that provided a little shade. A coop was built, and several chickens were milling about, pecking at the ground.

  Clara stepped into the barn and grabbed a handful of feed to toss out for the chickens. Maybe she would let Jack do it? She thought, smiling at the memory of the first time she had ever fed chickens.

  Sure enough, the silence was suddenly filled with shrieks of excitement and a flurry of wings as several more chickens descended from the coop. Jack began trying to pet and pick up the chickens that danced around him nervously but wouldn’t pass up the chance for food.

  She heard a thundering noise behind them and her name shouted, turning just in time to see James’ panicked face as he rode up quickly on a massive horse that had to be at least fourteen hands tall.

  “Clara! Are you all right? I heard screaming,” he asked quickly, dismounting.

  “James, we are fine. I thought I’d let Jack feed the chickens, and he’s a little overly enthusiastic about it,” she explained, feeling bad she’d scared him. “We were just trying to…”

  “Don’t scream unless you’re hurt,” he snapped, picking up his hat that had fallen off onto the ground when he jumped down from his horse and slapping it onto his head. “I thought someone was…”

  “We’re fine,” she mumbled, with a shy smile. “We’ve been busy this morning, and this was a nice break for us.”

  “I’ve got to get back,” James blurted, looking away.

  “Will you be coming for dinner? We didn’t have much for breakfast, but I did make you something.”

  “No,” he muttered, getting on his horse and gathering up the reins.

  “What are you eating if you aren’t coming back to your own house?” she asked in surprise at his curt response. “I thought you said you wanted a wife to feed you and talk to you. Well, I’m trying to feed you, talking is a whole ‘nother matter apparently,” she blurted out hotly, unable to believe he was being so pigheaded.

  “I can hunt something down.”

  “Well, that’s just plain ridiculous,” she said flatly, crossing her arms and glaring up at him. “This is your house and your things; you might as well partake in your food.”

  “It’s your home now.”

  “It’s our home, you… you…” she winced, biting her tongue painfully as she tried to think of what to call him when he suddenly held up a hand, silencing her.

  “Fine. Just no more hollering,” he bit out, looking over his shoulder, and Clara blinked in surprise at his sudden acquiescence. Her face flushed as she realized that she had been getting louder and louder in her frustration at his hard-headedness.

  “You are disturbing the cattle and I don’t want them to stampede while you are out here. They are too close to the house right now. Why don’t you two head in until I get them further away?”

  “We will.”

  Picking up Jack, she felt him begin to struggle to get back down in protest. It was only a matter of time before he started squalling at she saw the cattle were indeed meandering closer to where they stood.

  “I’ll see you at supper.”

  “Dusk.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll wait.”

  “Don’t wait up.”

  “Hopefully getting the cattle away from the house will also cause you to lose that temper, sir,” she mumbled, clapping a hand over Jack’s mouth as he whined. “If so, there will be warm fresh bread with dinner, if not—dinner might be just as cold as the way you are treating your new wife.”

  With that, Clara turned and marched back towards the house. Let him stew on that for a while, she thought angrily. She didn’t leave one bitterly angry man to settle for another one.

  James was in over his head.

  He might have made a colossal mistake, or might have been given a true blessing in marrying the first woman that had answered his ad. Clara was utterly breathtaking. She had just the right amount of gum
ption to put up with his stubborn streak and his family’s antics taking no flak from them… but having someone so strong willed meant that she would never back down from him either. That was something that his brothers would find comical and only give them another reason to pick on him.

  He’d been married less than twenty-four hours.

  In that very short amount of time, he realized that she was bossy and disrupting his life completely. And the boy? He wasn’t sure what to do with a toddler and hadn’t been around any younger children other than his brothers.

  This boy, Jack, was now his responsibility and seemed so innocent—or had he always been jadedand hard because of the environment he grew up in? He always had to fight for a semblance of peace, and now that he had his own home, he missed having someone around him.

  Fix one problem, gain another.

  Clara scared him in a way he never expected.

  When he heard the shrieks today, his heart stopped. He looked over and saw her bright curly red hair and knew he was about to lose his new bride before he ever had a chance to kiss her. He rode over as quick as he could, expecting a den of rattlers or something else to be there. Instead, he found their smiling faces staring up at him like he was someone important.

  Someone special.

  James never had anyone look at him like that before and he felt emotionally eviscerated within seconds. This stunning woman looked at him like he was the center of her world and it scared him. He felt like such a chicken, snapping at her, and running away.

  His brothers were half-mad and unreliable. As a boy, he remembered when their dog had whelped several pups, enough for each of them to have one. His was left floating in the creek the next day by Billy and Ike as a prank. They were sick… but they were all he had and he was so torn by it.

  What if they discovered that he actually liked his new wife? Would they try to harm her as a ‘joke’? Did that mean he was choosing his brothers over his own chance at being happy? He genuinely seemed to like Clara, and there was something about her that just got under his skin. He had a lot to think on this afternoon before having dinner with his new bride.

 

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