The Hens: The Third Day (The 12 Days 0f Christmas Mail-Order Brides Book 3)

by Merry Farmer

  “Aw, shucks.” Woody lowered his head, not sure if he should feel complimented by that last one or embarrassed about it. He peeked up at them. “But isn’t there something I could do that will make Meizhen choose me over some richer man in San Francisco?”

  “You just have to be yourself,” Jolie told him, cupping her hand on the side of his face and kissing his cheek.

  “Yes, my boy.” Boum Boum grabbed his chin and turned him to face her. “Any woman worth her salt will see how fine you are on the inside.” She kissed his cheek too, with a resounding smack.

  “Absolutely,” Felice agreed. She slid her arms over his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him square on the lips.

  And that was the moment the front door opened and Meizhen entered, Chi-ming half a step behind her.

  Woody’s heart thudded to his boots and his eyes went wide. He squirmed to get away from the women. “M-Meizhen!” He wiped his face and lips as if he had kiss marks all over him. “What’re you doing here?” His voice came out like Harry braying.

  Meizhen was too startled to answer, although her mouth dropped open.

  “Oh, it’s not what you think,” Jolie laughed and crossed to Meizhen.

  “We weren’t—” Felice glanced from Woody to Meizhen and back to Boum Boum, laughing. She waved her hands. “No, we weren’t—you know.”

  “Our love for our boy Woody is entirely innocent,” Boum Boum avowed, holding her head up high.

  “I just came to, uh, talk to the girls,” Woody insisted, caught between wanting to lower his head in shame and hold it high because he’d done nothing wrong. The result was that he made a strange, bobbing motion with his head. He probably looked like one of the chickens.

  “Talk?” Chi-ming snapped, stepping forward, his jaw tight. “No one goes to whores to talk.”

  “Now wait just a second—”

  “Well, excuse me—”

  “I never—”

  All three women protested at the same time. They spoke over top of each other, insisting on Woody’s innocence and reprimanding Chi-ming for getting the wrong idea. They could have gone on for days, as far as Woody was concerned. He only cared about one person’s reaction.

  And Meizhen laughed.

  As soon as the surprise wore off, she burst into the most melodic laughter that Woody had ever heard. It swirled through him, doing more to his insides than any stolen kiss or sneaky touch from the whores ever could have done. She clutched her stomach and let her laughter bubble. All she managed to say was, “How unfortunate.”

  Woody’s horror melted into surprise. His jaw went from being slack with fear to closing as his mouth spread into a smile. “I swear, I only came over here to ask these ladies what a woman wants from a husband,” he said.

  “You asked whores what they want from a husband?” Chi-ming scoffed.

  “Our opinions are just as valid as any other woman’s.” Boum Boum shifted closer to him, her voice deep, drawing herself up to her full, imposing height and staring down at Chi-ming.

  “And we’re just as capable of knowing what we want in a husband,” Jolie added, more than a touch of anger in her eyes.

  “You spoke to these women to learn what makes a good husband?” Meizhen asked.

  “Yeah?” Woody admitted with an uncertain squint.

  Meizhen blossomed into a smile. “That was sweet of you.”

  Woody relaxed, letting go of his fear and letting out a breath. “Seems a little stupid now, all things considered.”

  “Not at all,” Meizhen said.

  “It was foolish to approach women like these about the sacred duty of marriage,” Chi-ming said, and before either Woody or Meizhen or the whores could contradict him, he went on to say, “Fetch your things, Meizhen.”

  Worry clamped back down over Woody’s insides, but Meizhen put a hand on his arm. “Chi-ming would like for me to stay with him, in his tent, until…until a decision is made.” She paused, glancing to her brother—who crossed his arms and looked put out by the entire situation—then turned back to Woody. “I have sent a telegram to my sister, telling her of my joyous news. I’m sure we will hear back from her soon.”

  “That would be nice.” Woody tried to smile, but he wasn’t feeling as happy about the news as he should.

  “Hopefully, I will be able to tell you all about what she said when we spend our day together tomorrow,” Meizhen went on. “Until then, I should do as my brother has asked me and fetch my things.”

  Her hand was still on his arm, so Woody rested his hand over hers. “You’d better do that. We’ll have time to talk tomorrow.”

  “Do you need any help with your things?” Felice asked, looking hopeful.

  “Perhaps.” Meizhen nodded to her, then smiled at Woody. “Until tomorrow, then.”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  He let her hand go and smiled as she stepped away and headed with Felice up the stairs. It didn’t matter how hard Chi-ming glared at him, Woody watched her until she disappeared around the corner. He was getting used to watching Meizhen walk away. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to do it too much longer.

  Chapter 5

  There were so many glorious things about having her brother back in her life, about sharing stories of everything that had happened to them since they had been parted, and sharing traditionally prepared foods made by the handful of other Chinese living closer to the river, that Christmas Day flew by for Meizhen. She considered herself to be blessed.

  But even as she and Chi-ming caught up, her thoughts kept flying to Woody. He’d been quite a sight when she and Chi-ming had walked in on him and the three women from La Maison des Chats. She’d never seen a man’s eyes go so round or face flush so red. Chi-ming may have jumped to the wrong conclusion, but she’d seen in an instant how innocent Woody was. She shouldn’t have laughed at his embarrassment, but it was just so endearing to see the way he blushed and squirmed and bent over backwards to make sure she hadn’t gotten the wrong idea.

  And he had gone to the women in the first place because of his consideration for her. That was the kind of man who would make a fine, loyal husband. She prized those qualities far more than wealth and status.

  “You have a warm heart, sister.” Chi-ming startled her out of her thoughts as she sat sipping tea in his tent while waiting for Woody to fetch her. Christmas had been wonderful, but the next day had dawned, and it was time to look to the future. Chi-ming sat beside her on the tent’s lone cot, which he’d given up for her. “You have always been compassionate. I can see from the look in your eyes that you are that way still. But you must make this decision with your head as well as your heart.”

  Meizhen sighed. Her heart was full to bursting now that she and Chi-ming had been reunited, but she was beginning to remember how stubborn he could be.

  “I understand.” She nodded. “But the head alone cannot make a decision like this.”

  Chi-ming frowned, but he didn’t argue with her. Instead, he said, “Spend your day with Woody. I think you will see that he is not the man for you.”

  “But why not?” Frustration over the argument they’d already had several times the day before made her tea taste bitter. “Woody is a good man.”

  “Maybe.” Chi-ming rubbed a hand over his face as though he were explaining the obvious to an obstinate child. “But he is not intelligent enough for you. You will come to see that.”

  “And if I don’t agree with you?”

  “You will. You will find that the smell of animals hovers around him. He has no home to offer you but the barn where the donkeys and mules are kept. He is poor. And he is not respected by the other men. You will see that he isn’t worthy of you.” A scratching sound came from the door of the tent, but Chi-ming was on a roll and continued with, “Woody is like one of his mules—docile and harmless, but of very little use unless put to work by others.”

  “Hello?”

  Meizhen gasped as Woody pulled back the flap serving as the door of Chi-ming�
�s tent. She had never in her life been so glad to be speaking in a language others couldn’t understand. If she and Chi-ming had been speaking English, Woody would have overheard every unkind thing her brother had just said about him.

  As it was, she stood quickly, putting her tin mug of tea aside, and rushed to the door to greet him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” He greeted her with a fond, sheepish grin, swiping his hat from his head and gazing at her with bashful, blue eyes. “Did you sleep well last night?”

  Chi-ming’s tent was cramped, and the canvas walls did little to keep out the bitter cold, even with a small stove in the center and piles of blankets and furs on the cot, but she answered, “As well as could be expected. And you?”

  “Well, I’d like to say I slept like a log.” He glanced down, and Meizhen noted how long his lashes were against his wind-whipped cheeks. “But I’ll admit, I was up half the night thinking about everything we might do today.”

  Meizhen smiled and opened her mouth to ask what he had planned, but Chi-ming jumped up from the cot and marched to stand between the two of them.

  “No kissing,” he said. “You can walk through the town or eat together or sit in respectable places, but my sister deserves to be treated better than one of Madame Bonheur’s girls.”

  Meizhen pursed her lips and frowned at her brother, but Woody nodded, completely genuine, and said, “Of course. I would never dream of disrespecting Meizhen. And…and what happened at La Maison des Chats yesterday….” He swallowed and glanced from Chi-ming to Meizhen. “Well, that was a misunderstanding.”

  Chi-ming humphed, but Meizhen laughed and went to fetch her coat and other winter things. “I know it was. Chi-ming knows it too.” She sent her brother a look telling him to be polite.

  Chi-ming looked as though he wanted to stop her from doing what he disapproved of, but he let out a breath, dropped his shoulders, and rubbed a hand over his face. “May you enjoy your day together,” he said at last.

  It was as close to approval as they were going to get. Meizhen fastened the buttons of her coat, then crossed to give her brother a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out into Noelle with Woody.

  “It’s nice that the sun is out today,” Woody said, taking her arm to escort her formally and squinting up at the sky. “It gets pretty bright when the sun shines on snow like this.”

  “Bright and cheerful,” Meizhen agreed.

  Woody slanted a look in her direction, but didn’t seem to know what to say. She didn’t mind, though. His smile spoke for him.

  “You said yesterday that we might live in the mule barn,” she spoke for him. “If we marry,” she added, color and heat coming to her cheeks. “Would you show me this barn?”

  “Of course.” Woody’s smile widened. “I spruced the place up this morning especially so I could take you to see it.”

  They had to walk through most of Noelle to get to the barn, but Meizhen didn’t mind. Once he started talking about the various businesses and the people who ran them, Woody had no problem conversing with her. He knew a great deal about everyone—from Rev. Hammond, who had come up with the idea of bringing brides to town in the first place, to Mr. Percy Penworthy, whose uncle worked for the railroad Noelle was trying to coerce into coming to town, to his friend, Mr. Jack Peregrine, who owned the Post & Freight.

  “Me and Jack work pretty closely together.” Woody nodded to the Post & Freight building as they crossed the bridge. “On account of how he has a lot of goods and materials that need to be shipped places using mules.”

  “I see.” Meizhen studied the sturdy building as they passed.

  “Jack’s grandpa, Gus, lives with him too.” He sighed. “Poor Grandpa Gus is kind of a handful.”

  “How so?”

  Woody shrugged. “His mind wanders sometimes, and then his feet tend to wander too. But Jack’s real good at looking out for him.” He paused as they continued on toward the mule barn. “I wonder how Jack’s new wife’ll like dealing with Grandpa Gus.”

  “Which bride is marrying Jack?

  “Birdie is her name, I think.”

  “Birdie.” Meizhen tilted her head to the side in thought. “Yes, I think she’ll do nicely with this ‘Grandpa Gus’.”

  “I hope so,” Woody said.

  Meizhen took one last look at the Post & Freight, pressing her lips together in thought. Chi-ming complained that Woody wasn’t well-liked by the other men in town, but as far as she could see, he held an important place in Noelle. He certainly knew everyone in town and, it seemed, had some part in their businesses. Chi-ming must have been wrong about how Woody was viewed. Perhaps he was wrong about other things as well.

  “Well, we’re here.”

  Woody paused in front of a large, rough barn. Like most of the other buildings in town, it was constructed of logs fitted together with some sort of mortar. Snow banked up against its sides and covered the roof, although in the sunlight, it was beginning to melt. Enchanting icicles dripped from the roof’s edge. The barn had windows, but they were currently shuttered, and smoke curled from a chimney pipe poking through one side of the roof.

  “There’s a paddock out back,” Woody explained, walking her around to the far side where the door was, “but the mules prefer to stay inside where it’s warm. The hens too.”

  Meizhen burst into a grin. “We can’t forget the hens.”

  “They won’t let us forget.”

  Meizhen laughed as Woody held the barn door open for her. It was such a simple exchange, but it warmed her heart.

  And then the rest of her warmed. Because unlike her brother’s tent by the river, the inside of Woody’s barn was snug, dry, and comparatively warm. The floor was a combination of packed earth and straw. The log walls were shored up tight against drafts. And the pot-bellied stove in the middle of the large space radiated heat.

  “It’s wonderful,” Meizhen said, looking around.

  “Really?” Woody removed his hat, gloves, and coat and went to hang them on a peg by the door. “People always say it’s just a dirty old barn, and that it’s smelly too.”

  True, there was a distinct smell of animal in the cozy space. But it wasn’t any worse than the overcrowded streets of San Francisco, the packed quarters of the ship that had brought her and Meiying across the ocean, or some of the smoky, stuffy train cars she’s zig-zagged across the West in. And while half a dozen donkeys and mules stared curiously at her from the far side of the barn, their stalls looked sturdy—as if they weren’t about to break out and trample the rest of the barn any time soon—and every piece of equipment was hung neatly on pegs or stored on a large shelf closer to the door.

  “This is where we would live?” she asked, stepping deeper into the room. She removed her gloves and held her hands out to the glorious heat of the stove.

  “Yeah,” Woody said. “I mean, really, we would do most of our living in the loft up there.” He pointed to a spacious loft nestled against the ceiling beams.

  “I want to see it.” She tucked her gloves into her coat pocket, unwound her scarf, and removed her hat. Woody jumped forward to take her things as well as her coat, once she had it unbuttoned. As he went to hang them on a hook beside his winter things, Meizhen headed to the narrow ladder leaning against the edge of the loft.

  “I’m sorry about the ladder,” Woody said. “Maybe I could put some kind of stairs in here to make it easier for you to climb up.”

  Meizhen laughed as she climbed the first few rungs. “Woody, I trained as an acrobat. Climbing a ladder is an easy thing.” To prove it, she deftly swung around the back of the ladder, carefully judging its strength and stability as she did, then executed another twirl to slip back around to the right side before scrambling to the top.

  “Wow.” Woody followed her, climbing the ladder himself.

  Meizhen checked over her shoulder to make sure he was there as she stood in the loft, but she was quickly captivated by what she saw around her. Half of the loft was filled with ba
les of hay. They’d been arranged around the edges in a way that hinted they also served as insulation. A small bureau had been placed in the loft as well, and even though it appeared worn, it would be more than enough space for her clothes. The loft also contained a washstand large enough to hold a basin, bowl, and lantern, and a large mattress draped with quilts and what she was sure must be a bearskin.

  “It’s not much,” Woody said, straightening and standing behind her as he made it to the top of the ladder.

  “It’s wonderful,” Meizhen said. “And it’s warm.” She moved deeper into the space sitting on the side of the bed. That too was far more comfortable than the stiff cot she’d slept on the night before.

  “Really?” Woody glanced around as if seeing the space with new eyes. “I wouldn’t have pegged it as the sort of place a lady like you would want to live in.”

  Meizhen laughed. She scooted down the bed, patting the spot where she’d been sitting. Woody shuffled over and sat beside her.

  “In China, when Meiying and I were traveling with the circus, we sometimes had to sleep with a dozen people in the same hut. One time, we had to share a train car with monkeys.”

  “Monkeys?” Woody’s face lit up as he imagined it.

  “On the ship across the Pacific, Meiying and I shared a single berth in a dark, smelly hold with many other women and men.” She lost her smile. “That was frightening.”

  Woody stopped smiling as well and took her hand protectively. “I can imagine.”

  “In San Francisco, and sometimes as we traveled with Miles Kopanari, we didn’t know where we would sleep.” Her smile returned. “This place is warm and safe. The wind doesn’t come through the cracks.”

  “Well, I tried to shore the place up, but it still comes through if it’s blowing real hard out there.”

  She shifted to face him more fully, sliding both of her hands into his. “A little wind doesn’t matter. It’s better than uncertainty, and much better than fear.”

  “I guess so.”

  They fell silent. Meizhen could feel the thump of her heart against her ribs. The heat she felt came from far more than the simple stove in the center of the barn. It came from the kindness of the man who had worked so hard to make a home for her, from the bashful hope in his eyes as he stared at her, not knowing what to say. Chi-ming was wrong again when he claimed that Woody was a poor man who couldn’t provide for her. The barn wasn’t a fine house in a fashionable city, but it was the kind of home she had dreamed of for years.