The Anonymous Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 1)

by Vickie McDonough

  In the kitchen, Rachel removed her apron, wrapped a towel around the handle of the coffeepot, and carried it into the library. She poured three cups then set the pot on a trivet on the table in the corner where the lamp rested. “The coffee is ready, and I have some raisin bread and sugar cookies if you’d like some.”

  “That sounds delightful,” said Sylvia, as she stood and made her way toward the table with the other two ladies following like ducklings.

  Another knock pulled Rachel back into the entryway. “Martha! I’m so glad you could come today.”

  “Me, too. Hank didn’t have any emergencies where he needed my assistance. He’s just studying his medical books, so I told him I was going to the quilting bee. I brought some of Aunt Maude’s oatmeal cookies.”

  “Thank you. It’s always a treat to get to eat someone else’s cooking.” She stepped back to let her friend enter.

  “I, for one, think you shouldn’t have to provide refreshments other than coffee, which would be difficult for someone else to bring, since you host us each week and allow us to leave the quilt frame up. That makes the stitching so much easier.”

  Rachel hugged Martha’s shoulders, grateful for a friend who was thoughtful enough to look out for her well-being. “Three ladies have arrived so far.”

  “That’s a nice group.”

  Rachel set the plate of cookies beside her bread and helped herself to two of them. She took a seat on one of the chairs she’d pulled in from the dining room. Immediately, Margie Mann’s gaze turned to hers, and the bite of cookie lodged in Rachel’s throat. No subject was sacred with Margie around.

  “So, how do you like having Luke Davis back in town?”

  Aggie’s eyes grew wide. Martha and Sylvia, who were fairly new to town, missed the ramifications of that question.

  “I don’t think that’s a topic that should be broached here,” Aggie said.

  Margie swatted her hand through the air. “Oh, pish-posh. It’s a perfectly fine subject. He seems to be doing a decent job as marshal, though we hardly need one as quiet as our town is.”

  Maybe Rachel could satisfy Margie’s curiosity without venturing too far into deep waters. “I hardly see the man.”

  “Nonsense. You cook him three meals a day, clean his house, and do his laundry. How is that possible if you don’t see him?”

  It was hardly any of Margie’s affair, but Rachel knew the woman would poke and prod until she was satisfied. “I do fix Luke’s breakfast and dinner, but he prefers to eat at his house. I pack him a lunch, which he picks up at breakfast, and he eats that at the jail, as far as I know. I do my cleaning while he’s away, so I only see him if I run into him walking around town.”

  Sylvia’s gaze went back and forth between the two women, looking as if she’d missed something. “Why should Rachel care what the marshal does?”

  A gleam lit Margie’s eyes, and she leaned forward. “Luke and Rachel have a ... past.” She whispered the last word. “Everyone in Lookout thought for sure they’d marry up one day, but she jilted him for James Hamilton.”

  Sylvia glanced at Rachel, an apology in her eyes. Rachel wanted to talk to the minister’s wife about Luke and her remaining feelings for him but hadn’t had the chance yet.

  Martha stood, helped herself to another cookie, and then stopped next to Rachel’s chair. “I’m sure Rachel didn’t jilt Luke. She’s not capable of such an action.”

  “She married for money, that’s what Ray’s ma always said. Shucked that young Davis boy and broke his heart so badly that he left town.” Margie paused to sip her coffee. “The thing is, I can’t figure out why he’d come back here after so long. I bet that just irritates Rand Kessler to no end.”

  Aggie looked as if she were about to faint. The woman never gossiped and had a heart as big as all of Texas. “I ... I ... uh ... nice weather we’ve been having lately, isn’t it?”

  “Why, yes it is, Agatha,” Sylvia rushed to pick up the new train of conversation. “Just perfect. Not too hot, not too cold, and the wildflowers are so lovely.”

  Margie looked as if she’d sucked on a green persimmon. Rachel stood to refresh the coffeepot, and Martha followed her into the kitchen. “The nerve of that woman,” she hissed. “I’m sorry, Rachel.”

  Needing a moment to catch her breath and to allow her heart to slow down, she leaned back against the cabinet. “I should be used to folks’ chatter by now.”

  Martha rubbed her hand down Rachel’s arm. “I can tell Luke is still a tender spot for you. I don’t know much about the situation except what I’ve heard around town lately.” She glanced at the ground, and her cheeks reddened. “But do you think it’s possible that you two might get a second chance? It is strange that he returned after being gone for eleven years.”

  Rachel’s heart fluttered. If only Luke had come back because of her, but she knew the truth. She’d seen the disgust in his eyes, and he’d proven his feelings by the way he avoided her. He didn’t even think she was a good mother. She took a moment to force the shakiness from her voice. “Honestly,” she glanced at her dear friend. “I’m surprised he didn’t return sooner. It’s the only home he’s ever had, even if the actual house is no longer there. His cousins are here, as well as many old friends. He shouldn’t have to give that up just because I’m here, too.”

  “Well, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe He’s got a miracle or two up His sleeve.”

  Rachel stared at Martha’s gleaming eyes, knowing that in Luke’s case, nothing could be further from the truth.

  CHAPTER 10

  Carthage, Missouri May 1886

  Leah Bennett quickened her steps as the town of Carthage came into view. She was in no hurry to return home, but the sooner she’d finished her errands, the more time she’d have to spend with Sue Anne. She glanced down at her list of things to do, determined to finish them quickly. At the City Flour Mills, she entered the front office and rang the bell on the counter. A tickle in her nose made her sneeze, just as she always did whenever she entered the mill. Flour and dust motes floated in the air and coated her lips. A man she’d seen before entered from a back room, dusting off his hands.

  “Good day, Miss Bennett. What can I do for you?” He wiped his hands on a dingy towel hanging from one front pocket. His tanned face was coated with white flour, as was his dark hair, making him look older than she suspected he was.

  Leah refrained from grinning at him. “I need to have a fifty-pound sack of flour delivered to our farm next time you make rounds.”

  “I’m happy to oblige. We have a wagon heading out that way on Thursday.” He smiled, wrote something down in a ledger book on the counter, and quoted her the price.

  She paid him and marked that item off her list. Next stop, the apothecary. Hiking up her skirt, she crossed the dirt street, dodging horse flops. As she entered the apothecary, her nose wrinkled at the pungent scents in the small building, but the assortment of colorful bottles in different shapes and sizes never failed to intrigue her.

  Mr. Speck looked up from his desk behind the counter and adjusted his wire-framed glasses. “Ah, Miss Bennett, a pleasure to see you again. I hope all is well with your family.”

  Leah nodded. “For the most part, but Ma has developed a cough.”

  “Is it a dry cough or a phlegmy one?”

  “Thankfully, it’s just a dry cough, but it’s been persistent for half a week.” She looked down, breaking his gaze. After her mother developed the cough, Leah found it hard to know how to pray. In her heart, she wanted her mother to be well, but if it took her ma a while to recover completely, Pa might realize how much he needed Leah to run the household and change his mind about forcing her to marry Mr. Abernathy. But she knew how stubborn her pa was once he made a decision. He wasn’t likely to back down, especially if money was involved. He worked sunup to sundown, struggling to raise enough food for their big family, and would tell her she needed to do her part to help out, even if that meant leaving home and marrying a man sh
e couldn’t abide.

  The tall, thin man moved from behind the counter and in three steps crossed the room. He picked up two huge glass containers, set them on the counter, and measured out some ginger and something she didn’t recognize into two packets, then twisted them closed. After writing instructions on a paper, he handed them to her. “That should take care of your mother. Just follow the directions to make a tea that will help her cough get better, and make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

  She accepted the packets and put them in a cloth bag that she’d brought to help carry things, all the while wondering how a mother of eleven was supposed to find time to rest. Leah didn’t mind doing more to ease her mother’s load, but she couldn’t do everything, and her siblings bucked her efforts to get them to help. “Thank you, Mr. Speck.”

  She closed the door, feeling sorry for the homely man. With his overly large eyes, buck teeth, and thinning hair, the poor fellow had never found a woman to marry. She knew he wanted to wed, because he attended the same church as her family, but sadly, the few eligible women shied away from him, including her. Was it wrong to hope to marry a comely man? Or should a woman be satisfied with one who was a good provider and kind to her? Or was even that too much to hope for?

  Leah nibbled on her bottom lip, pondering the issue. She knew that you should judge a person by what was in his heart and not his features, but if you had to look at that face first thing in the morning for the rest of your life, shouldn’t it be one that pleased you? She considered living with Mr. Abernathy and shuddered.

  A jingling of harnesses pulled her from her thoughts, and she stopped to allow a wagon to pass. The driver touched the edge of his hat at her and smiled. Leah nodded back then scurried across the street before another buggy passed. At the mercantile, she needed to get several colors of thread, some coffee for her pa, and a bag of salt, and she wanted to talk to Sue Anne.

  At the entrance of the store, she stopped and glanced at her thin calico dress. The gray with pink rosebuds had faded so that the flowers looked more like stains than roses. She glanced inside the store and breathed a sigh of relief when she found it empty of customers. Scents of all sorts assaulted her: the tang of pickles from the barrel near the counter, spices, leather, onions. She loved the variety of the store and seeing so many new things, even though she was rarely able to purchase anything except the everyday supplies they needed.

  Sue Anne’s father glanced up from a ledger book he’d been writing in and smiled. “Afternoon, Miss Bennett.”

  “Mr. Carter.” Leah nodded. “Good to see you again. Would Sue Anne happen to be around?”

  He nudged his head to the left. “She’s in the supply room unpacking a new shipment. Feel free to go on back there and see her.”

  “Thank you.” She reached in her bag, pulled out her list, and handed it to him. “Here are the things we need today.”

  He pushed his glasses up his nose and scanned the page. “How much coffee would you like?”

  “Ma said to get two pounds.”

  He nodded. “I’m guessing you want to pick out your own thread.”

  “Certainly. I’ll do that after I say hello to Sue Anne.” Leah hurried toward the supply room, her insides twittering. Would her friend think her a copycat? With a wobbly hand, she pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the other room.

  Sue Anne glanced up from the crate she’d been emptying, her eyes blank. Suddenly they focused, and a smile settled on her thin lips. She stood, shook off the packaging hay from her skirt, and hugged Leah. “It’s so wonderful to see you.” She smiled wickedly. “And I so need a break from all this work.”

  “I had some errands to run, which is why I’m in town. I was also hoping you might be free to talk for a few minutes.”

  “This is the last crate, and I’m nearly done with it. Could you wait a few minutes, or are you in a hurry to get home?”

  “No hurry. All that awaits me is work.” Leah offered a weak smile, knowing the truth of her comment. “I need to pick out some thread. I can do that while you finish here.”

  “Wonderful. That will give me an incentive to hurry.” Sue Anne sat back down and rummaged through the straw for another tin cup to add to her growing stack.

  Leah ambled through the crowded aisles, gazing at the stacks of ready-made clothing and shiny new shoes in various sizes.

  Then her eyes landed on the stacks of colorful fabric. She fingered a navy calico with small, yellow sunflowers. If only she had money enough to buy some fabric. “How lovely.”

  “That just arrived this week.” Mr. Carter pulled a scoop of coffee from a large bag and poured it onto his scale. “It caught Sue Anne’s eye, too.”

  Over the years, Leah had tried hard not to envy Sue Anne, but at times it was hard, even though she was her best friend. Being an only child of the store owner, Sue Anne had first pick of the beautiful, ready-made dresses and fabrics as they arrived. She had been generous to share her castoffs with the Bennett family, but they generally went to the younger girls since Leah was so much taller than her friend. Leah rubbed her finger over the blue calico again. If she married Mr. Abernathy, would he allow her to purchase pretty things? Repulsed at her train of thought, she shook her head and moved on to the thread rack. She selected white, black, and navy thread then laid them on the counter for Mr. Carter to add to her tally. How could Sue Anne consider leaving all of this to go west and marry a rancher?

  Her friend popped out of the back room, looking bright and cheerful. “I’m finished, Papa.”

  He smiled. “Then I suppose you’d better go spend some time with your friend while you can. Your mother will need your help with supper.”

  Sue Anne grabbed Leah’s hand. “Let’s go upstairs. Ma’s gone visiting.”

  They tromped up the steps in the back room, entered the second story where the Carters lived, and were met with the lingering scent of baked bread. Leah loved the inviting parlor with its pretty settee, needlepoint chair, and large wooden rocker. A colorful braided rug covered all but the corners of the wood floor. A blue floral hurricane lamp rested on a round wooden table.

  Sue Anne turned before going into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”

  Leah shook her head. “Water is fine, thank you.” She sat on the needlepoint chair, enjoying being off her feet and the way the chair hugged her.

  Sue Anne returned with a glass of water and a small plate of cookies. She set them on the table next to Leah and flopped onto the settee, making a whoosh and sending dust motes floating in the afternoon sunlight that gleamed through the large window. She leaned toward Leah, her blue eyes shining. “Have you heard the news?”

  Leah nodded. “I think so, at least if it’s the same as what Molly told me.”

  “I just have to show you something.” Sue Anne jumped up and left the room again.

  A rustling sounded from somewhere in the small home, and her friend all but skipped back, a wide grin on her face as she held up a newspaper. “I keep this hidden in my room.” She sat down, opened the paper, and pointed to an ad. “I haven’t told my parents yet, but I’m going to be a mail-order bride. That’s the man I picked.”

  “So, it’s true then?”

  Sue Anne shrugged. “I hope so. I wrote to Simon—that’s his name—Simon Stephens, and he wrote back. He owns a ranch in Nevada.”

  Leah grasped her friend’s hand. “How can you even think of traveling so far to marry a man you don’t know?”

  “I won’t marry him until I’m sure I know him well enough. Oh, Leah, he sounds so dreamy—curly blond hair, brown eyes, and over six feet tall.”

  Leah’s thought drifted to Mr. Abernathy. That description fit him except for the height, but there was nothing dreamy about him.

  Sue Anne sobered. “Don’t you dare tell my parents. Pa would be livid and probably try to marry me off fast to someone in town.”

  “I won’t tell them, but I learned about it from Molly, and if someone as loose-lipped as she knows, do
n’t you think your folks will find out before long?”

  “I just need to get another letter or two, and then I’ll know for certain that Simon is the one.” She stared into her lap. “Do you think it’s silly of me? It just sounds so adventurous.”

  Leah shook her head. She couldn’t very well scold her friend when she came wanting to have a look at the advertisements herself. “I ... uh ... no. In fact, I was thinking about maybe trying to find a husband myself.”

  Sue Anne’s eyes brightened again, and she squealed, grasping Leah’s hands. “You’re thinking about becoming a mail-order bride, too?”