RNWMP: Bride for Michael (Mail Order Mounties Book 24)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Kathryn felt a jolt of surprise race down Nettie’s arm. Oh, how horrible. Not only was a good man dead, but Nettie would never have the chance to meet him, let alone marry and have a family with him.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, squeezing Nettie’s arm. Bryce, the Mountie who had traveled with them, asked the same question, but Nettie braced herself and straightened her shoulders. She’d be fine, Kathryn was sure—she had so much self-confidence, she would surely find her way.

  The group moved toward the parked cars and decided where they would each ride. Kathryn climbed into the car Aaron was driving and leaned her head back against the seat. She needed to hold still. She needed to lie down. She needed darkness and quiet and a bed and blankets . . . and if the entire world would stop moving, she’d appreciate that too.

  ***

  When they reached the Mountie station in Bison Bay, Kathryn opened her eyes and saw a tall, dark-haired young Mountie standing outside waiting for them. “That’s Michael,” Aaron said over his shoulder with a grin. Kathryn sat up and tried to look pleasant, if not entirely healthy, but as she stepped out of the car, all her resolve left and her knees buckled, throwing her forward.

  She was caught by a pair of strong arms, and she looked up into the most handsome face she’d ever seen.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life.

  “I’m not,” he replied with a grin.

  She realized how closely he was holding her, but she didn’t have the strength to pull back. When he scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside the station, she didn’t object at all.

  He gently lowered her onto a chair, then leaned against the desk and studied her. “Were you so dazzled by my good looks that you fainted at the sight of me, or are you feeling ill?”

  She smiled. “I’d like to flatter you and blame it all on your looks, but I’m afraid I’ve felt terrible ever since before we left Ottawa.”

  “I’ve seen ghosts with more color in their cheeks than you have.” He seemed to consider for a moment, then gave a nod. “Ernie and his bride headed straight to the chapel, but I think the best thing for you is sleep. A bride should feel happy on her wedding day, not sick to her stomach.”

  Relief washed over Kathryn as he said this. It was exactly what she wanted, but she knew he’d been waiting for her arrival, and she didn’t know how he’d feel about a delay. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I think you’re right.”

  He smiled down into her eyes. “It would be a shame if you were too sick to walk down the aisle and we had to trundle you on the back of a horse, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, it would.”

  “Then we’ll wait.” He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. “And you’re not to worry. I’ll still be here when you’ve recovered.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. In just three minutes, he’d shown her everything she needed to know—he was a good man, and he would treat her well. That was enough to allow her to rest easy.

  “Have you really seen ghosts?” she asked a moment later, and he laughed.

  “No. I was just trying to think of something white to compare you to.”

  She was going to like him quite a bit.

  ***

  Dr. Miller straightened from his hunched position over the bed and gave a nod. “I believe your bride is suffering from a case of food poisoning,” he said, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

  “Food poisoning?” Kathryn asked. Her voice sounded so weak, Michael’s heart went out to her.

  “Yes. Somewhere along the way, you ingested some tainted food, most likely meat. Do you recall what you’ve eaten lately?”

  Michael stood at the head of the bed, Miss Hazel nearby, watching as Kathryn seemed to think. “I ate a meat pie,” she said at last. “It was a gift from Mrs. Pratt. She made it herself, and she was so proud. She said it took her all day.”

  “If the meat was sitting out all day, that might explain a few things. Did it taste odd to you?”

  “It was very peppery.”

  The doctor shook his head. “The flavor of bad meat wouldn’t be peppery, but if the dish was over-seasoned, that might have masked the actual taste and you wouldn’t know you were eating off meat. You’ve vomited multiple times today?”

  She nodded, glancing at Michael. He knew how embarrassed she was—twice while he was helping her to his cabin, she’d stepped into the bushes to vomit even more. It wasn’t how he’d expected the day to go—he’d been thinking more romantic thoughts—but none of that mattered. All he could think about was this lovely, pale girl who had traveled all this way just for him, but who felt worse than she likely ever had in her life.

  “I know it’s uncomfortable, but vomiting is the best thing for you. In fact, if you weren’t already doing it, I’d induce it. You need to get the tainted food out of your system. Get all the rest you can, keep vomiting, and I’ll check back around in the morning.” He gave a brisk nod and headed out the door, nearly plowing right into Nettie, who had been waiting outside the room.

  “Keep vomiting. Well, there’s a cheerful treatment plan,” Miss Hazel said. She turned her bright eyes to Michael. “Thank you for bringing her here. Rest is just what she needs.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I’ll go stay with Bryce in Timothy’s old cabin for the time being. We’ll make it work.”

  “We certainly will,” Nettie said, coming the rest of the way into the room. “I’ll stay here with her, as it seems my plans have changed, and we’ll soon have her right as rain again.”

  Michael nodded. He wanted to stay and visit, but he could see that Kathryn’s eyes were growing heavy, and he didn’t want to be a bother. Instead, he turned to her and smiled. “I’ll be back when you’ve had some sleep, all right?”

  “Of course,” she said, lifting her hand to him. He took it and held it—it was so fragile, he worried that he’d break it if he gave it a squeeze. “Thank you.”

  “Rest well.” He took a moment to gather his personal things into a bag and then bid the ladies good afternoon. What he wouldn’t give for a way to make her feel better. They hadn’t even properly said hello.

  Chapter Four

  Word had come down from headquarters that with Timothy’s death, Ernie would now be the commander of the Bison Bay unit, and the other men approved. Ernie had the necessary skills for that position, and the Mounties respected him. Now, the morning after the brides arrived, he was asking the men to report on their preliminary investigation into Timothy’s death.

  “I know that the arrival of our brides was a distraction, but we need to stay focused,” he said. “If you have any hunches, any at all, follow up on them. We have so few clues that we’ll have to think outside the box on this one.”

  The men nodded, and Ernie dismissed them to rounds. As Michael went about his day, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. What had Timothy been doing that led to his murder? Who would have had a grudge against him? He’d broken up a fight involving the MacDonalds at the saloon the night before, but Michael couldn’t suspect them on those merits alone. They’d broken up plenty of bar fights without one of them turning up dead. There was something more here, something that went deeper than a dispute over a deck of cards or a flirtatious saloon girl.

  When he finished his shift, he went home to the cabin he was sharing with Bryce and washed up, taking off his uniform and changing into a soft blue shirt. Then he made his way over to his own cabin, eager to check on Kathryn and see how she was doing.

  Nettie opened the door and let him in, a smile on her face. “I think you’ll be pleased with how she’s doing,” she said as she stepped out of the way.

  When Michael entered the bedroom, he was very pleased. Kathryn had a bit of color back in her cheeks, and when she smiled in greeting, his heart gave a thump. He’d hoped his bride would be pretty, and he’d certainly hoped that he’d be attracted to her, and he had nothing to complain about on either score
.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been the day before. “I hope you’re comfortable in the other cabin.”

  “It’s working out just fine. Granted, I wasn’t expecting to share my cabin with a man, and Bryce wasn’t expecting to share his at all, but we’re adapting.” He was heartened to see her smile grow wider. “You look like you’re feeling much better.”

  “I am. I’m not ready to eat anything, but I’ve had a few sips of water, and as long as I don’t move, everything’s fine.”

  He wondered if he dared, then reached out and took the hand that was lying on the blanket and stroked the backs of her knuckles with his thumb. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this. I wish there was anything I could do to help.”

  “You did what I needed most—you gave me a quiet place to rest. You have no idea how badly I wanted to find a blanket and hide away from the world. I just wish I hadn’t displaced you from your cabin.”

  “Our cabin,” he corrected, then noticed that her cheeks turned a little pink. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about getting married,” he hurried to add. “Maybe you’ve had such a bad experience here so far that you’d rather go back home after you’re well.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to leave,” she said. “I’m just not used to having a cabin. Not that it’s mine yet, not until we get married—that is, if you still want to marry me. Maybe you’d prefer a girl who doesn’t vomit every thirty seconds.”

  Michael laughed. “You know, every time I thought about the qualities I’d like in a future wife, whether or not she would vomit never entered my head. So we’re probably all right.”

  Kathryn smiled. “You’ve been so kind to me. Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  She turned her head a little to look at him more directly. “Now, let’s change the subject—I don’t want each one of our conversations to revolve around my stomach and your chivalry. Tell me about yourself. What sorts of things do you like to do? Where are you from? What about your family?”

  “You want me to tell you about myself, but you don’t want to talk about my chivalry? That might prove difficult,” he said, and she laughed.

  “All right, you can talk about it a little bit. But my stomach is off limits.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He told her about his childhood in Toronto, about his older brothers and younger sister, and about his loving, supportive parents. Then he paused. “My mother passed away last year,” he said slowly. He didn’t like to talk about it because of the torrents of grief that rained down on him whenever he allowed himself to think of her. “She was the best of women.”

  “It sounds like you loved her very much.”

  “I did. We all did. She made our growing-up years very special.” He cleared his throat. “And you?”

  Kathryn shrugged. “My parents both died when I was fourteen. They contracted a fever while I was away working, and I’ve been on my own ever since. I’ve had quite a variety of jobs, and so when I met Miss Hazel, I felt I’d be qualified.”

  “Qualified?” Michael blinked. “I’m a little confused, Miss Wilkes. Did you come here to get married or to apply for a job?”

  He had meant to sound jovial, but his tone was a little sharper than he intended, and he saw her flinch.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that I’d have the skills to make a good wife and housekeeper.”

  Her expression was so contrite, he could have kicked himself until Sunday and it still wouldn’t be enough. “And I didn’t mean it either. I just meant . . . well, I hoped you’d come here to fall in love.”

  He hadn’t planned to say the words—they’d just come out of his mouth, and as soon as he spoke, he wondered at his audacity. This was their first real conversation, after all, and here he was, being more forward than he’d ever been in his life. What made it even more awkward was knowing that Nettie was buzzing around somewhere, chaperoning them without being obvious, and she’d likely heard every word.

  Kathryn didn’t answer for a moment, and he worried that he’d offended her. But then she met his gaze. “I’m not sure I know what love is,” she replied. “I’ve never experienced it.”

  “Then let’s see about figuring it out together, all right?” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, not as hesitant now that she seemed to be getting some strength back.

  “I think I’d like that,” she replied. She seemed a little shy yet, but she didn’t break the gaze, and that gave him heart. As long as they were both willing to give it a try, perhaps there was a romance here waiting to blossom after all.

  ***

  “Hello, my dear.” Miss Hazel stuck her head in Kathryn’s bedroom. “Are you up for a visitor?”

  “Of course,” Kathryn replied. Her vomiting had all but come to a stop, but she still felt weak and shaky. Nothing could make her want to send Miss Hazel away, however.

  The older woman entered the room and looked around. “Oh, good. I thought I remembered seeing a mirror in here, but I wasn’t sure.” She walked over and peered at her reflection, turning her head from side to side. “Excellent.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  Miss Hazel plopped down in the chair next to the bed. “Have you ever seen a flying squirrel?”

  “No, but I’ve heard of them. I did always think they sounded like make believe.”

  “Let me assure you that they’re not. Apparently, Bison Bay has its very own mascot, and he enjoys flying overhead and depositing . . . er, gifts from above on people’s heads.”

  Kathryn chuckled. “You mean . . .”

  “Yes. I just wanted to be sure that I was free and clear before I brought myself near you. How are you feeling today?”

  “So much better now that I’ve stopped vomiting. The doctor says it’s going to be a few days before I’m up and around, but he’s pleased with my progress.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. And how are you liking Michael?”

  Kathryn’s cheeks suddenly felt warm. “I like him a lot. He’s been fairly busy helping Bryce get settled in and working with the other Mounties on the investigation, but the small amount of time we’ve spent together . . . well, I like him.”

  Miss Hazel gave a nod. “I couldn’t be more pleased. Now our task is getting you well so you can enjoy this romance.” She stood up again and crossed the room to open the window. “Let’s get you some fresh air. Can you smell the ocean?”

  Kathryn pulled in a deep breath. Yes, she could detect salt and brine on the breeze. “I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

  “I’ll drop a hint to that man of yours that a buggy ride would be appreciated once you’re well enough.” Miss Hazel turned and put her hands on her hips. “Your things are all stacked here in the corner. Would you like anything unpacked?”

  “I suppose so. It just seems maybe a bit presumptuous to take over Michael’s bedroom when we aren’t married.”

  “If you were staying in a hotel, would you feel that way?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Then consider this your hotel for the time being. If things don’t work out between the two of you, you can always pack up again, but from what I hear, things are going very well.”

  Kathryn tilted her head. “What do you mean, from what you hear? Who’s saying what?”

  Miss Hazel laughed. “I ran into a couple of the Mounties on my way here, and they tell me that you’re just about all Michael can talk about.”

  Now Kathryn was sure her cheeks were bright red. “I don’t mean to distract him from his work,” she insisted.

  “My dear, a pretty woman will always distract a man from his work. It’s neither your fault nor his—it’s simply a matter of nature. Now, I’d like to hang up some of your dresses, if you don’t mind me digging through your things. You’re stuck with me for the next hour or so—I sent Nettie out for a few things at the general store.”

  “I’m glad you did. She’s been so good to sit with me, b
ut she needs a break, I’m sure.” Kathryn tried to sit up a bit more, but that was wasted effort. “What will happen to her now that she’s not marrying Timothy?”

  “I’ve told her I’ll take her back to Ottawa with me,” Miss Hazel replied as she lifted the trunk lid. “Oh, you knit?” She held up a pair of needles.

  “I do. I haven’t had much time for it lately, though.”

  “I think it’s the perfect activity while you’re convalescing. I don’t see yarn in here.”

  “No, I’m out.”

  “Then I’ll get you some. I saw some very nice colors at the general store.” Miss Hazel set the knitting needles on top of the dresser, then began taking out dresses and flipping them to shake out the wrinkles. Within just a few minutes, she’d taken care of everything in the trunk, rearranging contents of drawers to make room for Kathryn’s things and generally establishing her in the home. Kathryn hoped Michael wouldn’t mind.

  When Nettie returned, she bustled into the room, her hat still in hand. “How’s everything going in here?”

  “The patient is doing well,” Miss Hazel reported. “I thought I’d get her some yarn from the general store so she can knit while she rests.”

  “Knitting is one of those terribly useful skills that I’ve never managed to figure out,” Nettie replied.

  “Then I’ll get some yarn for you too. Every woman should know how to knit. And most men, too. I’ve actually wondered if I shouldn’t offer cooking classes for men—help the poor dears be a little more self-sufficient. But no, that would distract me from my true mission, which is training brides for Mounties. Our brave men in red must have love!” Miss Hazel picked up her bag from where she’d set it. “I’m off to the store. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Nettie smiled as she watched Miss Hazel scurry out the door. “She has more energy at her age than I’ve ever had in my life. What do you think of her?”

  “I agree. She seems fueled by everything she does for these Mounties. I’d like to have that much passion for a cause.”