Miss Hazel threw back her head and laughed, finding the question uproariously funny. “I end up financing half the girls to come out and meet their husbands. I’ve never made a dime from my services, and I never expect to.”
“So why do you do it?” Mrs. Dandy seemed to be absolutely confused by the entire situation.
“Because there are men who need brides and women in my town who desperately need husbands. Why else? I’m providing a service for our men in red serge. We should all be looking for ways to make their lives easier, don’t you think?”
“I . . .” Mrs. Dandy seemed confused.
“Oh, just agree with her, Mother. You know you would do the same if you had the money to do it.” Mr. Dandy put down his coffee cup, watching his wife.
“Yes, I probably would. I feel guilty for taking your money now. You really are providing a service, and I let you pay me so you can help others. That’s not right.”
“I’m eating your food and living in your home. It’s perfectly fine,” Hazel said with a smile. “My husband left me with a teenage son, a broken heart, and a pile of money. I can’t take money to my grave with me.” She knew she shouldn’t be so blunt, but her favorite thing as she’d aged was that she could be more outspoken. She no longer needed to worry if every word she spoke would have others thinking less of her.
“I hope we can be friends,” Mrs. Dandy said with a timid smile.
“Of course we can! Oh, and there’s another reason you should continue to charge me for the time I spend here . . .”
Mrs. Dandy frowned, not understanding. “That is?”
“Well, if you charge me, then I don’t have to worry about helping with the dishes or the cooking. If you didn’t, I’d feel the need to help with everything.” Miss Hazel grinned to let the other woman know she was half-joking. Part of her felt the need to help no matter whether she paid or not, but the other part of her enjoyed not having to help. She was certain most women would feel the same way.
Mrs. Dandy laughed softly. “There is that. All right. You go and have fun with your girls. Would you take her to the different Mountie homes in town?” she asked her husband.
He nodded. “Sure. They’re each on different roads leading out of town. I’ll draw you a map, and that way you can go from one to the next.”
Miss Hazel had never had a great deal of fondness for maps, but she nodded anyway. If she ended up lost, then she’d just have to spend another day in this beautiful little town. Now wouldn’t that be a shame?
Twenty minutes later, Miss Hazel had her map in hand, and she began to explore the little town. Truly she wasn’t in a hurry to meet up with her girls. They always needed a day or two to settle in before they needed her much anyway. Even a marriage that was starting out as an arranged marriage needed a honeymoon period. If only for the couple to get to know one another as man and wife.
She spent a few minutes walking down the main street in town, noting the Mountie headquarters. She could picture George sitting behind the desk, his red serge jacket thrown over a coat rack and his hat hanging on the wall. She started to walk past, content with her imaginings, but she stopped. What’s stopping you from talking to him? she asked herself. It’s not like you’re eighteen with a crush on the local police. You’re an age you won’t disclose, and that man is as interested in you as you are in him. Go say hello!
Hazel took a deep breath and decided to take her own advice. She promised herself she’d leave if he was busy, but if he wasn’t, she was going to spend some time talking to him. Or she could just watch him. Watching George work would make her very happy.
Opening the door to the office, she found George just as she’d pictured him. His dark hair was thick and liberally peppered with gray. She saw a tiny little spot that was completely bald atop his head, and instead of disliking it, she found the spot absolutely endearing.
She watched as he signed his name with a flourish to the bottom of a document and put it aside. “What’d you find out?” he asked, not looking up.
“I found out that you hang your hat up neatly, and your red serge jacket is just where it should be. Does it make you too hot in the summer?” Hazel meandered over to the desk and sat down across from George.
“Sometimes. I didn’t expect to see you until suppertime.” His eyes were welcoming as they met hers. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Miss Hazel shrugged. “I was out exploring the town, getting ready to go see my girls. I saw the Mountie headquarters, and I felt like I just had to stop.”
George set his pen down on his desk and folded his hands behind his head as he stretched out his long legs before him. “I’m glad you did. You are a welcome sight in this town, Miss Hazel, and more importantly, you’re a welcome sight in this office. I could look at you all day.” His eyes gleamed as he looked at her, his admiration apparent.
Miss Hazel felt the warmth filling her cheeks, and she was shocked. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed or if she ever had blushed. It certainly wasn’t in her nature to be shy or demure. “George, the things you say to me cannot be true, even in that deranged mind of yours.”
George’s brows drew together for a moment. Had she really just called him deranged? “Do you call every man you meet deranged?”
“Oh, no. Just the ones who say they like to look at me. I know I’m not exactly a beauty queen.”
“I keep telling you, Miss Hazel. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I see so much beauty in you, I’m surprised I haven’t already dropped to one knee and begged you to run away to a cabin in the mountains with me.”
She simply shook her head. “I wonder that you haven’t ended up in an insane asylum before now. Do you think it has anything to do with you being a Mountie and considered above reproach?”
George threw back his head and laughed. “Miss Hazel, you make me very happy. When you are not delighting my eyes, you are delighting my sense of humor. I do hope your cooking is half as good as your smile.”
Miss Hazel bit her lip to keep from calling the man a crazy old goat. Those weren’t exactly courting words, and she realized she really did want to be courted by this man. She hoped he would give up on his idea of living on a mountain top because she desperately wanted him to live near her grandbaby—with her, of course. “I had best be on my way. I need to check on my girls, and I’m certainly keeping you from important Mountie business.” She tipped her hat to him and turned toward the door, surprised when she felt his hand on her arm.
“I sure would like to kiss you, Miss Hazel. When was the last time you were kissed?”
She turned to look up at him, wondering how she should respond. “Shortly before my Stanley died.”
The mention of the other man made him frown. “May I kiss you, Miss Hazel?” He wanted to wipe her husband’s name from her mind.
Hazel swallowed hard before nodding. She only had one life to live, and she’d promised herself a year before that she was going to live it to the fullest. If that meant kissing random Mounties in their offices, well, then she was going to do it! She turned her face up to his, offering her lips.
When his lips came down on hers, soft but firm, she sucked in a breath, surprised at the tingling in her belly. She moved closer to him, pressing her chest against his. She had only ever been kissed by one man in her life, and she had no idea another man could make her feel so very much.
They were both out of breath when their lips parted, and he looked down into her eyes for a moment. “Are you still going to cook for me tonight, Miss Hazel?”
She nodded, a bit dumbfounded. “I am. Where should I go?”
“My quarters are attached to the back of this building. You can go there whenever you’re ready.”
“I will see you around six for supper then.” She turned away from him, not believing all that had just transpired between them.
Leaving the building, she walked toward the lake instead of to one of the girl’s houses as she had planned. She’d be there l
ong enough to visit them all later. Right now, she needed to be able to think, and the water would help her. She didn’t know what it was, but the sound and look of water made her mind its absolute clearest.
When she reached the lake, she sat down on the shore and watched as the beavers built their dam. It seemed to be a pair of beavers, who worked together to build a home for the family they hoped to start. Somehow, she felt that it was a parallel between her life and the beavers. Each of them wanted what was best for themselves, but what was best?
It was mid-morning when she realized that it was time for her to go see the girls. As much as she wanted to spend the day watching the beavers and thinking about her life and where she wanted it to go . . . it was her duty to take care of the brides she’d brought with her. She pulled the map Mr. Dandy had given her out of her bosom where she’d stuck it for safe keeping. She had no use for the girls anymore anyway, so why not use them as a place to keep her belongings?
She focused on it for a minute or two and mapped out in her head what she was going to do. She would walk over and get Violet and Caitlyn and make them go along with her to Adele’s house. Then she could check up on all three of them at once, and hopefully someone would feed her lunch. She didn’t feel like walking back to the mercantile, and she didn’t have any desire to cook for herself. No, Adele would need to cook for her. If there was no other way to get her to do it, she would tell her to consider it a test of her abilities. She giggled to herself at the thought. That’s exactly what she’d do. Maybe it was a bit sneaky and underhanded, but she didn’t care.
After spending a few hours with the girls, Miss Hazel wandered back to the mercantile to decide what to buy to make supper that night. She knew that George was probably planning to pay for the food, but she wanted that night to be her treat. She was well aware of how little Mounties made, and she wanted the meal to be a nice one.
When she got to the little house that was attached to the Mountie station, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. She could tell he had attempted to clean for her, but like most men, he hadn’t done the job to her satisfaction.
She cleaned off the work table, started a loaf of bread, and then got to work on the rest of the home. She swept and mopped the floors and started to strip his bed and wash his sheets, but she stopped herself at the last moment. It was not her place to clean his home. If he’d wanted that, she was certain he wouldn’t have been shy about asking for it.
She started a large pot of soup, and while it was cooking, she put together a pot roast, peeling the potatoes and carrots and plopping them right into the pot with the roast. She stuck the whole thing in the oven before punching down the bread so it could rise one more time.
While the bread was rising, she stirred the soup and whipped up some gingerbread for dessert. She knew she was a wonderful cook, and she wanted him to know it as well.
By the time she started watching the clock for him to arrive, the small home was filled with the wonderful smell of cooking beef, tomato soup, and baking bread. The gingerbread was cooling on the work table, and she had whipped some cream to top the gingerbread.
Miss Hazel had everything ready and was sitting at the kitchen table when the door opened, and she looked up, fully expecting to see George standing there. Instead it was a young boy she hadn’t met yet. “Commander sent me over to let you know he was going to be a little late. Something about having just a bit more paperwork to fill out before he could come home.”
Miss Hazel nodded. Her Stanley had often been late coming home from the office, so she wasn’t bothered at all. Everything she’d cooked could keep going for a short while longer. “Tell him that’s fine, and I’ll be waiting when he gets here.”
The boy’s face lit up, and he nodded. “I sure will, ma’am!”
She looked back down at her romance novel. She could easily keep herself occupied for another hour or two.
4
It was half past six when George came home from the Mountie headquarters. He felt bad for being late, but one of the men had needed to write up an incident. He thought it was better for him to stay late than one of the men with a brand-new wife. As soon as the paperwork was done, he’d plopped his hat on his head and headed to his quarters.
When he opened the door, he sniffed deeply of the aromas coming from his kitchen. Miss Hazel was sitting at the table with a book open in front of her, obviously engrossed in what she was doing. She looked up, and her smile lit up the room as her gaze met his. “Hello, you.”
“Well, hello there, Miss Hazel. Something smells wonderful!” He put his hat on the hook by the door, unbuttoning his red serge jacket and hanging it up.
“It’s a whole lot of somethings,” Miss Hazel announced with a smile. “I made fresh bread, soup, and a pot roast complete with carrots and potatoes. And a cake for dessert, of course, because a growing boy like yourself needs all the cake he can get.”
George laughed, patting his burgeoning belly. He had been as trim as any of the men who worked under him up until the past five years or so, but as he’d slowly transitioned to doing more paperwork and less chasing of the bad guys, he’d gradually put on a little weight around the middle. “I seem to only be growing in one place.”
“I can help you grow faster!” Miss Hazel winked at him as she got up and served them each a bowl of the soup she’d made. “How was work?” She’d forgotten how comfortable something like this was. Every evening when Stanley had come home from work, she’d had supper on the table for them. It was something she’d missed. Having someone to cook for and take care of had always made her feel complete. With Teddy gone, those feelings had been missing.
George grinned at her, dropping a kiss on her cheek. He was proud of himself for refraining from grabbing her, spinning her into his arms, and kissing her madly. It was what he wanted to do, but out of respect for her, he thought it better to wait. “I’m not sure I need any help in that department. It’s a good thing I’m about to retire because I’m not so sure the Mounties would be willing to keep me around with as much extra weight as I have around my middle.”
“I think you look absolutely wonderful.” She set the soup onto the table and sat down across from him. “Would you say the blessing, George?”
George happily complied before taking a small taste of the soup. “This is delicious!”
“It was always my son’s favorite, and I find I use it whenever I’m cooking for someone new. It makes me feel more confident.”
“You’re not always confident? I find that hard to believe, Miss Hazel.”
“Oh, I’m anything but confident most of the time. I do what I can to appear confident, but mostly it’s a ruse.” She buttered a slice of bread and brought it to her lips. “Working with the girls has been really good for me, but it seems that almost every group of girls has one who cooks better than I do.”
He grinned at that. “Have you always felt the need to be the best at everything you do, Miss Hazel?”
She stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Well, of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
He laughed. “I suppose you have a point. No one likes to come in second place.”
“I certainly don’t. Being the best has been something that has driven me since I was a small girl. I had an older sister you see—just eleven months older than me—and we were always in competition. When she married and moved out of the house, my mother asked what was wrong with me that I hadn’t married and moved out as well. It seemed that anything she could do, I did just a little bit less well, if that makes any sense.”
George nodded. “It certainly does. I had a younger brother who felt that way about me. Now he’s married with six sons, and he’s one of the best farmers in all of Manitoba. And here I am, an aging Mountie, with nothing to show for my life.”
Miss Hazel squeezed his hand. “I’m sure there are lots of lives you’ve saved and many bad men in prison due to the hard work you’ve put in over the years.”
“You’re
probably right.” He shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter at this point in time. I am just happy to have done my job well for thirty-five years and be ready to retire. My cabin in the mountains is calling my name just a bit louder every day.”
“And is that cabin here in Northwest Territories?”
He nodded. “But I’m sure if I have the right motivation, I could sell that one and buy another. Somewhere that would be closer to where a certain lovely lady’s family is, for instance.”
She smiled at that, happy to know that he was willing to compromise a bit if she was. “My family is in British Columbia, and my home is in Ottawa. I’d happily sell my home, but I can’t give up the opportunity to be near family. Perhaps a cabin in the mountains of British Columbia.”
“I think that sounds like a brilliant idea.” For Miss Hazel, George was willing to make any compromise. Did her suggesting it mean she was ready to talk about marriage? He knew she hadn’t come to him as a mail order bride, but watching all three of his men marry as soon as their ladies got off the train made him feel like he was moving at a snail’s pace.
“If you were there, I could get to know you better while staying with my son and playing with little Jack, my grandbaby.”
George grinned at her. If he moved to the mountains of British Columbia, it would be because he was already married to her, not to get to know her better. He was determined they would be married soon. He couldn’t believe less than a month before he’d thought he would be happy spending the rest of his life alone, and now that he’d met her, he knew they needed to be together.
“We’ll see how things go,” he said softly.
Throughout the meal, George watched her closely, amazed by her humor and grace. She was a relatively large woman, but she walked with a grace he’d seen in few other women.
“Do you want cake now? Or a little later?” she asked softly as he cleaned his plate for the second time.
RNWMP: Bride for George Page 3