She tried to focus on the foreign words as the priest droned on, but her thoughts were drawn back again and again to Noah. Would he be kind? Or would he expect her to work from sun up to sun down, as her mother had? Mollie had rarely had a moment to spare, her whole life long. Her mother had planned every moment. It was dedicated to chores or school or work. Sleep had been a blessed relief at the end of each day. But it would surely be different with Noah…wouldn’t it? She stole another sideways glance. He would love her. Or at least, she would make him love her. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? A wife of his own to love and cherish? She would be that for him, and so much more.
She was good at keeping house, and an excellent cook. She was decent at mending, despite her failures at lace making. She had all the basic skills a wife needed. So if she showered him with affection, and pleased him in all the ways a man needed pleasing, then how could he not love her?
Unable to stop herself, Mollie stole another glance at Noah, and this time caught him gazing down at her. She smiled, holding his gaze a moment, before she blushed and looked away. Did he think her bold? Or did it really matter anymore? They were moments away from being entwined together for life. The time for blushing was nearly over.
It struck her, then, that she hadn’t thought of Nell since she had left for the church that morning. Surprise was soon replaced with a wash of guilt. It was the longest she’d gone, since Nell’s disappearance, without thinking of her missing child. How could she be thinking of such foolish, trivial things when her baby was out there, in the arms of strangers? How could she be entertaining thoughts of love and happiness without Nell in the midst of those imaginings?
I’m a terrible mother, she thought. And yet, she still couldn’t pull her thoughts away from Noah. He’d captured her heart already, without the two of them having spent a single private moment together.
When she glanced at him again, he was smiling at her. But when their eyes met, his smile melted into a frown of concern. Her vision was clouded with tears, and she realized he must have seen them. She looked down at her folded hands, eager to hide her feelings. But then he laid one of his hands over hers, and the warmth of it through her thin wedding gloves melted away the guilt and the sadness, until all that remained was warm feelings for Noah.
A few minutes later, their vows were exchanged, and their marriage was sealed in the eyes of God. Then the wedding Mass began in earnest.
The Mass stretched on for ages, and Mollie was eager for it to end, so she could enjoy her first day as Mrs. Noah Jamison. But she would later recall that the reception at Noah’s mother’s house would feel far more interminable.
Chapter 12
“So, it seems congratulations are in order.” Mrs. Jamison’s mouth was set as she shot a stern glance her son’s way.
Mollie’s stomach flipped, and she clasped her hands tightly in front of her, wishing she could duck behind her new husband and escape his mother’s scathing stare.
Noah was unperturbed by his mother’s demeanor. “Thank you, Mother.”
“I don’t see why I had to wait until after the wedding to meet your bride.”
“I told you that you could see her at the church before the wedding. You were the one who insisted you were too busy.”
“And I was! Look at all these people.” Mrs. Jamison extended both her hands, palms upward. Around them, the wedding guests milled in the parlor and the kitchen, with a few stragglers carefully making their way up the icy front walk. “I had to prepare a luncheon for dozens of people, all by myself!”
“And I offered to hire someone to help.”
“As if I’d let strangers in my kitchen!” she scoffed. “You could have brought her around yesterday.”
“She was busy all day making preparations and getting fitted for a new dress. There was a lot to be done quickly.”
“And whose fault is that? Really, there wasn’t any reason to rush things—she just got here! Imagine, not announcing the banns? What a scandal!”
Mollie fidgeted, unsure if she should speak up. It was discomfiting to be discussed as if you weren’t even present. The woman still hadn’t addressed her directly.
“There’s no scandal,” Noah hissed. “And stop trying to create one. Mollie just stepped off the train—there’s no reason to suspect scandalous intentions for the swiftness of our marriage.”
“Hmph.”
“Mother stop it. You’re embarrassing the poor girl. And we’re both talking as if she isn’t standing right here. It’s rude.”
Mrs. Jamison’s expression softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry dear. It’s not you I’m cross with, but my son. I don’t appreciate being shut out.”
“I can imagine.” Mollie smiled nervously. “It’s all been such a whirlwind for me, too. I do wish we’d had the time to sit down together beforehand. It only seems right.”
“See? Even she agrees with me, Noah.”
“Yes, I see that. You’ll get along famously now.”
Mrs. Jamison hooked her arm through Mollie’s. “Come with me, dear. I know you should be the guest of honor at this party, but I could use some help, just for a minute, setting out the second round of hors d’oeuvres. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Uh…” she cast a look over her shoulder at Noah as she was led away. “No…of course not.”
It was a full half an hour before she got back to Noah, and the entire time she was with him, they were peppered with questions from Noah’s curious friends, neighbors, and relatives. Mollie had grown up in the same neighborhood in the North End of Boston her whole life. The most new people she’d ever met at one time was when she met the household staff the day she started as a scullery maid. The sea of new faces was overwhelming, and it was stressful having to remember to leave Nell out of it whenever she answered a question about her family or her past.
She had hoped that she and Noah would leave before the luncheon was over, as she’d seen other couples do at the few weddings she had attended. But the afternoon stretched on, and each guest left one by one, until at last Noah and Mollie were alone…with his mother.
After they bid farewell to the last guest, Mrs. Jamison set about gathering up the dishes scattered around the house. Mollie, used to being expected to help—or do all the work—did the same.
“Let Mother do that.” Noah took a plate from her hands setting it down on the decimated refreshment table.
“Let the girl help, Noah,” Mrs. Jamison called over her shoulder, before Mollie could respond. “She needs to get used to a little hard work.”
Mollie bristled under the remark. She’d worked hard every day of her life—how dare the woman imply anything else? She doesn’t even know me.
“Mother,” Noah said in a warning tone. “Don’t start. It’s her wedding day.”
“So I should do it all? After doing all the work myself this morning? I helped clean up on my wedding day. That’s what’s wrong with young people today? You all think everything should be done for you.”
“I don’t mind helping, Noah. Really.” Mollie turned away and picked up more plates, stacking them as she went.
Noah sighed. “Alright.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll fetch your bag. I left it in the buggy when I parked it out back in the carriage barn and put the horse up. I suppose I can feed and water the horse while I’m out there as well, so I won’t have to do it later.”
An hour later, the house was tidied up, the floors swept, and they were finishing the last of the dishes. Fortunately it was a short luncheon, and the mess hadn’t been too great. When Mollie came out of the kitchen, she was surprised to find Noah sitting and reading a newspaper. She would have thought that he’d have helped a little bit—not because she expected him to be doing women’s work, but just so he could hurry things along so they could get back to their new house and be alone.
He looked up from the paper, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You’re done, finally! I’m glad.” He set down the newspaper and
stood, taking her hands. “Let’s go, Mrs. Jamison.”
It was a little strange to be called by that name—especially since she connected the name with her new mother-in-law. She looked down at the newspaper, casually tossed on the chair. “Wait—shouldn’t we fold that up neatly before we go?”
Noah cast a glance at the table. “Naw, Mother will get it. Come, I want to show you the house.”
He led her to the door as Mrs. Jamison emerged from the kitchen.
“You’re going?”
“Yes, Mother. I’d like to show Mollie her new home. You didn’t want us to stay any longer, did you?”
“No, I suppose I’ve kept you long enough. You’ll be in the shop by noon, won’t you?”
“Yes, I told you I would. I won’t lose track of time.”
Mrs. Jamison pursed her lips. “Mm-hmm.”
As they closed the door behind them, Mollie thought she heard Mrs. Jamison mutter something along the lines of “no, please, let me get that paper for you…”
The afternoon sun was bright, glinting off the ice and snow. Noah helped her around the icy patches on the flagstone walkway, then down the sidewalk.
“How far is it?” She realized it must be within a block or two, since he had said he was fetching her bag and taking care of the horse. He must have hitched up and brought the buggy over to their home, then walked back after the horse was put up and cared for.
“We’re here!” He grinned broadly and gestured up a walkway, to the house they stood in front of…right next to his mother’s home.
“You…you bought a home right beside your mother’s?” Mollie was stunned.
“I know, can you believe the luck? I had been ready to sign on a house around the corner, when I found out that the Xaviers next door were putting their house up for sale.”
“Oh…yes. That’s very…lucky.”
His grin faded. “You don’t like it?”
Mollie looked up at the house, a small, white, single-level clapboard home with a small front porch accented by decorative trim. “No, no, it’s wonderful. It’s a perfect little house for us.”
He took both of her hands in his. “Then what is it? Is it the color? Because we can paint it, if you find white too drab.”
“No, the color is fine.”
“Please tell me. I can see you’re not happy.”
“Noah, I’m very happy to be married to you. You’ve made me happier than you know.”
“But you’re not happy with the house.”
“I…it’s just that…it’s right next door to your mother’s home. Won’t that be…awkward?”
“Why would it?”
“I…that is…we…we’ll be newlyweds…living right next door…to your mother…”
“And?” He looked confused.
Mollie blushed. She had no words to convey her meaning any clearer.
“It won’t be a problem, Mollie.” He waved away her concerns, oblivious to her meaning. “Don’t you see? She’ll be right next door to help you with anything you need. When you’re expecting, she can stop by to check on you, and see if you need anything. She’s home for half the day, usually in the afternoons, so if there was any problem, she’d be there for you. And when the children are born, she’ll be around to show you all the things that most new mothers have to figure out on their own.”
Mollie shuddered. The idea of Mrs. Jamison popping over whenever she liked was bothersome enough, but she knew couldn’t endure the woman telling her how to raise Nell. And it would be hard enough to convince Noah to let Nell stay. Mollie suspected that if Mrs. Jamison stuck her nose into it, she’d be none too keen on the idea, and would try to ruin everything. But what could she do? The house was theirs, and Noah had been living in it for a week already. Complaining would serve no purpose.
“I’m sure you’re right—it’s a lovely house.” She forced a smile to her lips and squeezed his hand.
The broad grin returned and Noah led her up the walk to the front door. Once inside, she could see the home was furnished only with the barest necessities—a table and six chairs in the dining nook, and through the bedroom door she could see the bedstead. On the wall in the empty living room was a photograph of Mrs. Jamison and a man that Mollie assumed was the deceased Mr. Jamison, encased in a heavy, ornate oval frame. Other than that, the home was bare.
“As you can see, I left most of the furniture and decorating decisions to you. Mother chose the necessities, since I insisted on moving in as soon as the home was ready. I didn’t want you to come into a completely desolate-looking house. I wanted it to feel a little like a home. She wasn’t very happy that I was depriving her of the last few days of my company, but I thought it best.”
“It must have been nice, being able to spend a bit of time alone before taking on a new wife. We lived in a very small apartment in Boston, and it was a tight squeeze for the four of us, growing up. I don’t know how the larger families in our neighborhood endured it. Having an entire hotel room to myself was quite luxurious.”
“Do you regret not having more time in the hotel?” Worry creased his brow.
“Oh, no! I was very eager to move on with our new life. But I did enjoy it while it lasted.”
He sighed with relief. “I’m glad. I was eager to have your companionship. I didn’t spend much time here this week—I slept here, and that was all.”
“You didn’t enjoy the quiet at all?” Mollie was surprised. Though she was anxious to get on with her new life and find her daughter, she had rev
“I didn’t have time. I put in extra hours at the shop to make sure I had as many repairs done ahead of time as I could, so I would be able to close up shop for the wedding today, and go in late tomorrow. I wish I could close the shop longer, but I can’t risk my repair customers going elsewhere—competition with the jewelers is already intense. I’ve lost half my sales in pocket watches since the second jeweler opened up.”
“I understand. We’ll have our evenings together. But I hope you didn’t have to work too hard to get the repairs caught up.”
“Nah, not too much. But it was busy. I’d work until dark, then go straight home—I mean, to mother’s house—and eat dinner there, and unwind a bit. Then I’d sleep here, get ready the next morning for work, and stop by next door for breakfast before Mother and I walked to the shop. Honestly, I was glad for the extra work. I didn’t like being here alone. It didn’t feel like a home…but now it does.”
He smiled and took her hand, leading her through the dining nook and into the kitchen.
“Here is your kitchen,” he said proudly. “I hope it is to your liking. I know you’ll be spending a great deal of time in it.”
It was spotless. Mollie was sure his mother had cleaned it top to bottom before he moved in. Heat emanated from the small woodstove along the back wall of the narrow kitchen. Noah must have started a fire while he was here. How thoughtful.
“It looks just fine. Plenty of space along the cupboard for the dishes.” Mollie frowned. There were no dishes on the cupboard. “Are there no dishes?”
“Mother wanted to buy a set, since she knew you wouldn’t be arriving with a trousseau of household goods of your own, but I told her I thought you’d like to pick them out.”
Mollie wondered if Mrs. Jamison resented the fact that Mollie brought nothing into the marriage…not so much as a single wedding gift from her family.
They walked back through the dining nook and parlor, and stood in the doorway that led back to two bedrooms.
“So….” Mollie faltered. She wasn’t ready to enter the bedroom. “It sounds like you usually spent most of your time at home with your mother, prior to this.”
“Well, we’re a very close family. It was hard on her when Father died. She needed me even more. She enjoys fussing over me. Nothing makes her happier. I’ve always done what I could to make her happy, and keep her mind off of Father’s passing.”
Mollie laid her arm on Noah’s. “It must have been very hard on b
oth of you.”
He inhaled at her touch, then let his breath out in a slow sigh. “It was. It’s been five years now. I miss him still. And I’m very sorry he didn’t get to meet you.” Noah squeezed her hand. “Or our children.”
Images of Nell flashed through her mind, and she looked down to hide her pain from her husband. “I’m sure I would have liked him.”
He nodded. “You would have. Everyone loved Father. Everyone likes Mother, as well, but she’s quite bold and opinionated, whereas Father was very lighthearted and merry. He made for a good shopkeeper. I try to be more like him, but I'm afraid I fail in that regard.”
“I see no failure in you, Noah Jamison. None at all.”
“Don’t you?” He stepped closer.
His proximity caused her heart to race. She shook her head as she looked up at him. “I only see a fine man any woman would be proud to call her husband.”
He pulled her to him, gently, bending his head to touch his lips to hers. Heat flooded through her, and she reined herself in, not wanting to let her passions get the best of her, as they had once before. But when his arms wrapped around her, she couldn’t resist melting into him, enjoying the hint of vanilla that she tasted on his lips.
The kiss went on and on, until at last Noah broke away with a sigh. “I suppose I should finish the tour, before I let myself get carried away.”
Mollie smoothed out her velvet jacket, flushed with a mixture of excitement, apprehension, and embarrassment. “Of course.”
Noah stepped back, gesturing to a door behind him. “This is the guest bedroom.”
Walking past him, she stepped into the tiny bedroom. It stood empty, with the afternoon light filtering through lace curtains that the previous owner had probably left behind.
“It will make a fine nursery,” Noah murmured from the doorway.
She imagined a brass crib in the corner, with Nell standing inside, her chubby arms reaching out to be picked up. In the other corner would sit a rocking chair, where she could rock her beloved Nell all night long, and smell her hair as she slept. Mollie stepped back, blinking back tears. “It will make a fine nursery, indeed.”
Mail Order Devastation (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 4) Page 8