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A Bride for Hamilton

Page 3

by Wendy May Andrews


  “There was plenty of space to run and play in the streets,” she finally commented, “but there wasn’t much time for playing once my father died.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Hamilton answered instinctively.

  Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears when she glanced briefly at him before she quickly lowered her head back down to her contemplation of the horses.

  “Did you think a woman with family and prospects would agree to marry a stranger without ever having met him?” She didn’t sound confrontational, merely curious.

  Hamilton felt his color rising once again when he heard the pride in his tone as he answered her. “I could be considered quite an eligible catch for a young woman, regardless of her background.”

  Herman snorted beside them, reminding them of his presence.

  “Do you have something to add, Herman?” Hamilton nearly growled.

  “Not a thing, Boss, except that I’m glad I don’t have to listen to this much longer.” Herman’s cheerful tone set Hamilton’s teeth on edge but before he could respond, Herman had jumped over the side of the wagon before Hamilton had even begun to pull the horses to a standstill in front of the barn.

  “I’ll take care of these two if you want to show your missus around your empire.”

  Hamilton would have shown the other man exactly what he thought of his impudence except the small woman at his side allowed another silvery tinkle of her laughter to float by on the breeze.

  He felt an immediate physical reaction. HIs gut tightened with a curious mixture of awareness and rejection. Yes, he was attracted to her, but he had absolutely no wish to be. Hamilton held back his groan of frustration. He had an exceedingly awkward future ahead of him.

  As he showed her around the near property - the barn, small animal pens, chicken coop, the ranch hands’ housing, and finally his own house - he marveled over her varied reactions. It was more than obvious she had never been outside the city before. She hadn’t even known how to collect eggs. But she had been a very quick study. After he had shown her twice, she had quickly collected a basketful. It had been cute to watch her timidly approaching the roosts but then nearly crowing with delight when she found what she was searching for.

  “Do you suppose they’re disappointed?” she had asked with a worried frown as they moved on toward the rest of the tour.

  “Who?” Surely she couldn’t be asking about the hens.

  “The chickens. That their eggs are gone. This means they won’t be able to have any babies, right?”

  Hamilton stared at her, barely preventing his chin from dropping open.

  “First of all, the ones laying the eggs are called hens. And they are not emotionally invested in their eggs, so you needn’t worry.” He tried to keep any sarcasm out of his tone.

  When her expression of concern wasn’t completely alleviated, Hamilton continued to explain.

  “We don’t keep the rooster together with all the hens. We would be overrun with chicks if we did so. We keep the hens for egg production and for eating. But this is only for our personal use, not for business. So, we need to keep it under control. If you didn’t collect those eggs, they would be useless to the hens. They could sit on them forever. No chicks would be coming out of them.”

  Her rapt stare of concentration made Hamilton slightly uncomfortable.

  “Do you understand what I’m talking about?” A horrid thought crossed his mind. “Do you understand how chicks are produced? And also all offspring, by extension?”

  Color splashed across her face, and she looked as though she wished to be anywhere but before him in that moment, but she gave a slight nod. “Because the rooster isn’t present with these chickens, I mean, hens, then no chicks will be produced from the eggs. And similar for humans and all other reproducing creatures, I suppose.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Hamilton fervently wished he hadn’t raised the topic, but it needed to be addressed. “Since you are not a hen and do have emotions and feelings, it is probably best if we get to know one another a little bit before we move on to the reproductive phase of our enterprise.”

  The woman laughed but nodded more enthusiastically than Hamilton appreciated.

  “That would probably be best, thank you, sir.”

  Hamilton was left once again wanting to throw or hit something. It was an extreme reaction. He hadn’t felt that confounded in years. Maybe not ever. He was stuck with the woman. He didn’t want to find her attractive. But he did. He was torn between wanting her gone and wanting to start a family with her. He fervently hoped the passage of time would ease some of these frustrations because like it or not, he was stuck with her.

  He was relieved that it was early fall. Hamilton would have plenty to keep him busy around the homestead while she got herself settled into his home. He could even leave. He had plenty of other business interests he could go check on. He needn’t sit around watching her take over his home.

  But he ought to keep an eye on her, or she might rob him blind.

  The thought made him blink. Perhaps he was being slightly unfair. Just because she was so pretty it made his eyes ache didn’t necessarily mean she was going to be a thieving liar. And besides, there wasn’t much she could take. Being such a tiny little thing, he doubted she could carry off his furnishings, and those were easy enough to replace anyhow. He just wouldn’t be giving her access to any of his bank accounts. That should keep him and his concerns safe.

  He should have checked the westbound train schedule while they were at the station. She hadn’t been here more than a couple of hours, and he was already itching to leave her behind. If only he hadn’t made all the arrangements for his businesses in advance of her arrival for the very reason of not wanting to leave his new wife alone on the homestead. If he left now, it would be obvious to everyone that he was running away. Unless he got word from one of his businesses that there was a problem. But he couldn’t fake that. He would jump at the chance to run away, but he had to man up and face this problem if no honorable way out was afforded him.

  Chapter Three

  “So how come some of the men call you Hamilton and some call you Foster? Am I the confused one or are they?”

  Her husband had been showing her around his homestead and introducing her to some of the workers. Sadie was becoming more and more confused. Some of them, like Herman, called him Foster. She just thought it was the male way of simplifying matters, dropping the Mister. But then some of the others called him Hamilton, which Sadie had understood was the man’s first name. A name she had yet to use herself.

  It was a shockingly ridiculous situation to find herself in. She was married to a man with whom she did not comfortable using his first name. It was a commentary on just how very desperate she had been. Which was why she had agreed so easily to her friend Jane Fredericksburg’s suggestion that Sadie allow Jane’s husband Fred to match her up with one of his friends. Sadie had been happy to agree to the protections afforded by the proxy marriage. In her mind, at the time, it seemed safer to be married prior to arriving into her new life in Nebraska. She had worried, if they weren’t already married, the man might reject her, and then where would she be? When Fred had explained the legalities to her, that she would be a married woman as she travelled across the country, she had thought it sounded like a good idea. But now, here she stood, more than halfway across the country from anyone or anything familiar, married to someone that she wasn’t even completely sure which name was his.

  Ridiculous!

  But there it was.

  “My mother preferred the name Hamilton. It was her family name before she married my father. My father didn’t object, although he did point out to her that giving me a name that’s longer than our family name was sure to cause confusion. He wasn’t wrong,” he concluded with a low chuckle that caused a thrill of attraction to shiver down Sadie’s spine. She ignored it.

  “Do you have a preference? It seems others call you whatever they’d like.”

 
“When I was a lad, my closest friends called me Ham or Milt. If you’re asking what you should call me, I’ll answer to any variation of either Hamilton or Foster, but I am partial to my first name, as fewer people use it.” He paused for a moment. “I noticed you haven’t really called me anything. Is that because you’ve been uncertain what to call me?”

  Her laugh sounded nervous even to her own ears, but Sadie answered him. “Yes, you’ve been Mr. Foster in my mind, since the Fredericksburgs introduced us officially. But it sounded so formal that it made me uncomfortable.”

  “Well, despite our introduction, as you said, we really just met today, so I suppose it’s understandable. Please, feel free to address me informally.” He paused again before asking, “What would you like to be called? I suppose I ought to call you Mrs. Foster just to get used to the idea of having a wife.”

  The stricken expression on her face made Hamilton realize he had probably been a little too forthright. She needn’t know he wasn’t too sure about this marriage either. But then he was filled with relief when she giggled. It sounded a little hysterical, as though she were very nervous, but at least she didn’t appear to be overly put out with him. He had no intention of ever giving her his heart, but if he were going to stay wed to the woman, it would be best if they could get along.

  “Please, call me Sadie. I might not answer to Mrs. Foster at this point as I, too, am still adjusting.”

  They exchanged grins and Hamilton felt a flutter in the area he rather suspected might contain his heart. He ignored it. While he would try to give this woman the benefit of the doubt as Herman had suggested and not expect her to be as crooked as all the other pretty women he had ever known, he couldn’t trust her nor love her.

  Hamilton cleared his throat. “I forgot you were so hungry. We left something on the stove while we were gone so that you wouldn’t feel obliged to begin cooking right away. We can finish your tour after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

  She again had that expression on her face that made Hamilton question what he had said, but he couldn’t fathom what it might be. He was being polite and chivalrous, remembering to think of her needs over his own. She ought to be appreciative.

  “Thank you, Hamilton,” she finally replied in a prim tone of voice. “I would appreciate having something to eat. And while I do realize that I will have a role to fill here, which includes doing the cooking, I appreciate that you will allow me a little bit of time to adjust.”

  Hamilton felt his face relax into a grin. Now he understood why she had seemed a little put out. She didn’t want to consider herself the labor force, he supposed. But what did she expect? No doubt, as such a pretty woman, she had expected to be waited on, rather than doing some honest labor. Well, she would have to realize that everyone needed to pull their own weight this far from the city. While he was a wealthy man, he didn’t expect to have a pampered wife. It was one more reason he had asked Fred to provide him with a homely wife. He would have to send Fred a telegram as soon as possible. He needed to be sure he had gotten the right woman.

  After she claimed to be filled up on what was to Hamilton’s mind a very small amount of food, he showed her the rest of the nearby property. It was obvious she was tired, and he had no interest in taking her out on a trail and having her fall asleep in the saddle. If she even knew how to ride. Hamilton was afraid to ask. He had thought it was a good idea to marry someone from his hometown even though he had never met her. Now, he had to wonder where his mind had been. She hadn’t even ever raised chickens before! And now she was going to be helping him run his homestead? It was a disaster waiting to happen.

  He took a deep breath and tried not to panic. Nothing would be gained by overreacting. And really, the girl might not be as useless as she appeared. Fred must have had a reason for sending her, if she was, in fact, the one Fred had intended. Hamilton hadn’t yet seen the paperwork for himself. But he could see that the woman was wilting before his eyes. He supposed it had been a long day for her. Hamilton would have to leave his lingering questions until the next day.

  They had made a small meal of sandwiches from what was left of their earlier meal. Sadie had seemed sufficiently familiar with a kitchen, even if it might not be the top of the line type she was probably used to in the big city, that she had made herself useful by putting the small repast together for them. He had helped, of course. Despite being his legal wife, she was quite technically a guest in his house and ought to be treated accordingly.

  But she was surprisingly good at making tea. And the sandwiches were perfect. She had spread the butter all the way to the edges of the bread, just how he liked it. But then she had nearly fallen asleep at the table. Hamilton only hoped she had managed to eat enough to make it through the night. He didn’t think she had eaten more than half a sandwich. There already wasn't much to her. Hamilton sighed and escorted the woman up the stairs. He could feel her trembling as he held her elbow and he guessed at the cause.

  “As we mentioned on the drive here from the train station and again with the animals, we are only just meeting. I don’t expect either of us will feel comfortable being intimately acquainted until we’re little better acquainted with one another. This will be your room for now.” He indicated the open door they were standing in front of. She nearly sagged in her relief, reassuring Hamilton that he had hit on the source of her obvious anxiety.

  “I’ll see you in the morning. You’re obviously beat. I have to check on a few things outside to make certain the men tightened everything up as they ought to.”

  She nodded and slipped into the room, shutting the door with nothing more than a whispered “Goodnight.”

  ~~~

  Sadie bustled about the kitchen, boiling water and wiping off the eggs she had enjoyed collecting a few minutes earlier. She rather thought she was going to enjoy that job. At least for as long as she was staying. Sadie sighed. Perhaps she ought to consider making it permanent. She felt her lips twist wryly. They were married. In all reality, that should be fairly permanent. No, she didn’t really want a husband, and she had no intention of ever loving the man. But where else was she going to go? Sadie owed him a huge debt of gratitude for what he didn’t even know he had done for her. She truly believed in loyalty and she owed that, at least, to him for the safety he was providing her. She shouldn’t return his kindness by plotting a way to get out of the marriage.

  Recalling his escort upstairs the night before, Sadie felt heat staining her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire she had kindled in the stove. It was gracious of the man to offer her a space of time to get to know him before he expected her to perform certain marital duties. Of course, that might actually make it easier to get out of the marriage if she could figure out somewhere to go.

  Sadie rejected the tempting thought. She would have to start thinking of reasons to stay rather than fantasizing about leaving. Hamilton seemed like a far more decent man than many of those she had encountered in Boston. He deserved her efforts to bring success to their union, not her attempts at escape.

  Looking around the room she was in, Sadie felt her face stretching into what was probably a self-satisfied grin. She was lucky to be there. She needed to develop a sense of gratitude and respect toward Mr. Foster. Hamilton, she reminded herself. While it might sound a little odd to her ears, it wasn’t uncommon for a man to have his mother’s maiden name as his given name. In a certain way, it was rather nice. In this case, it was a bit of a mouthful, but she was certain she would grow accustomed to it. In fact, she decided then and there, it was a handsome name. With dignity. Just like the man himself.

  She ought to learn more about him. All that Jane and her husband had told her was that an old friend of Mr. Fredericksburg was good friends with Hamilton. And that said old friend had spoken very highly of him. There was some sort of untold story involved, Sadie was certain of it. Jane had been adamant that Mr. Foster was a good man. He had done some sort of service to this old friend’s wife. Another marriage that
Mr. Fredericksburg had arranged for another man with an interesting name. Ransom Delaney. Sadie found herself consumed with curiosity about the man, his name, and how Hamilton might have helped his wife. She wondered if Hamilton would tell her if she asked.

  “That smells delicious.”

  Sadie nearly jumped out of her skin. She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.

  “Mr. Foster,” she exclaimed, flushing deeply over his upraised eyebrow. “You startled me.” She tried to explain before taking a deep breath. After expelling the pent-up air, she added in a steady voice, “Good morning, Hamilton, did you sleep well?”

  She tried not to bristle over his obvious amusement with her discomfort. Sadie recognized laughter lurking in the depth of his gaze, but he kept a straight face.

  “I didn’t sleep the very best, but I’ll feel much better after a cup of that coffee I can smell you are brewing.”

  Sadie hurried to prepare him a cup the way he had instructed her the day before while she clucked over him. “Oh dear, I’m sorry you didn’t sleep that well. Do you often have trouble sleeping?”

  “Not often,” he answered briefly. “Must’ve had too much on my mind,” he added, causing Sadie’s color to deepen once again as guilt filled her. She was the problem, she thought, causing the poor man a sleepless night.

  She offered him a weak smile. “I’m just about to cook up some eggs if you’ll tell me how you like them.”

  “Have you already been out to collect them?” He seemed surprised, causing Sadie’s flush to deepen.

  “Is that all right? I didn’t think it would matter what time I went, and I thought eggs for breakfast sounded delicious. But if you’d rather something else, I can probably fix you something, if you’ll just tell me what you’d like.”

 

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