The Bartender's Mail Order Bride

by Cindy Caldwell

  Chapter 12

  Meg had just hung the dishtowel she’d used for an apron on the hook by the sink when she heard voices outside on the porch. She peeked out the window and saw one of her family’s buggies, the one Hank used most, and she was surprised at how comforting it was to hear her big brother’s voice. It had been a strange, emotional day, after all, and she walked toward the front door to join them.

  “Hank, I had no idea,” she heard Sam say to her brother, and she drew her hand back from the doorknob, not exactly wanting to eavesdrop but not wanting to interrupt, either.

  “That was pretty clear from your face when you realized it was Meg.” Hank chuckled and Meg smiled to herself. What must have gone through all of their minds when they realized? She didn’t even want to know. She had enough to worry about in her own head.

  “Are you…we…all right that we went through with it?” Sam asked his longtime friend. Meg’s heart swelled with the understanding that Sam had concern for his relationship with Hank, and she thought it admirable.

  “Sam, it was completely unexpected, even a shock I will say. But as I’ve had time to think about it, it’s all coming together in my head. I haven’t been listening much to Meg lately, and I guess I should have.”

  Meg gasped and her heart leapt into her throat as she listened to Hank’s confession. It sounded a lot like it was going to turn into her confession about her feelings for Sam, which she was in no way ready to reveal. She reached hastily for the knob and swung the door open just as Hank said, “She’s been talking about—”

  “Oh, Hank, thank you so much for bringing my things,” Meg said as fast as she could, hoping to stop the words that she knew were coming next.

  “Hello, Meg.” Hank stopped mid-sentence and turned toward her, taking off his hat and looking at her curiously, cocking his head to one side and squinting his eyes.

  “What? Do I have something on my face?” she said as her hand rose to her cheek.

  Hank laughed and clapped Sam on the back. “I was just trying to see if you looked any different now that you’re a married woman.”

  Meg drew in a sharp breath as her face turned scarlet, she was sure. All she wanted to do was push Hank into a puddle, but she thought maybe a married woman wouldn’t do that.

  “Hank, it’s only been a few hours,” she said through her embarrassment and looked at Sam, her eyes pleading with him to say something.

  She caught his smile before he could wipe it away, and she felt a little better when he turned to Hank and said, “Uh, just so you know, we’ve discussed this and although Meg will be staying here during my mother’s visit, she has a separate room and there will be no…uh…”

  Sam cleared his throat and Hank said, “Thank you for that, Sam. I realize it’s none of my business, but under the circumstances, that might make Pa feel a little better.”

  “Are you going to tell him?” Meg said, her eyes widening. Her pride was stung that her personal life was up for discussion with everyone.

  “What, you don’t want me to? He’s still reeling, and not sure why you would do such a thing.”

  Meg turned as footsteps sounded on the wooden porch steps.

  “Let’s sit on the porch if we’re going to talk for a bit. I’ll be back with some lemonade,” Sam said, gesturing to the porch swing and heading inside.

  As the door shut behind Sam, Hank and Meg sat down. She turned to her brother, her heart swelling with affection for him, memories flashing through her mind of the last few years at Archer Ranch.

  “Hank, you know how hard it’s been for the last few years, since Mama died.” Meg rested her hand on her brother’s arm.

  Hank let out a sigh and passed his hand along the rim of his hat as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I sure do. Pa’s a little better, but things are still tough. It was a miracle he came around with Clara, wanting everything to stay the same.”

  “Exactly. And I know it hasn’t been very long, and you probably haven’t even gotten over the surprise of me being a bride yet. But you know the family. You know our history. Do you think for one minute that Papa would have willingly let me move on with my own life? Accept another loss of that magnitude?”

  Hank sat up and looked at his sister, and she thought she saw understanding in his eyes. “I wish I could say I was surprised the other night when he wouldn’t even agree to allow suitors. I had planned to see if I could talk to him about it, but there hadn’t been a good time yet.”

  Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Do you think it would have helped?”

  “Well, no, I guess not.”

  “I don’t either. It was going to be a long, long road to get him to agree with that. And while I don’t exactly want Sam to know yet, I had been interested in him anyway. He’s the one I was trying to talk to you about. So when all this came up, my agreeing to be his bride seemed like the fastest, simplest way to…well, to get Papa to see that it’s only a matter of time before I was married. Before we all were married. If I’d waited for him to agree, I’d have been an old maid before—”

  “I know, I know. I do understand, and Clara does, too.”

  “Thank you, Hank. I really did…do…want this. Papa will come around and Sam will, too, and we’ll live happily ever after. You’ll see.”

  “Meg, I have to say you’ve always been determined to get what you want. I sure hope this time isn’t an exception.”

  “It won’t be, I’m sure of it.”

  Hank patted his sister’s knee and stood. “And who knows? You might be the next one with twins.”

  The blood drained from Meg’s face as she contemplated what Hank had said and Sam returned from the house.

  “Did he say something about twins?” Sam set down the tray of lemonade as Hank walked over unhitched the buggy. “I think so,” Meg mumbled, suddenly aware of all the things she hadn’t thought through with her new plan.

  Chapter 13

  Sam and Meg waved goodbye as Hank guided the buggy toward Archer Ranch. As they turned to go back inside, Sam touched her elbow, guiding her up the stairs of the porch, and she shivered as tingles swept through her.

  “Are you cold?” Sam asked, a concerned frown appearing.

  “Oh, no, not at all,” Meg replied. Even though it was beginning to get dark and a bit chilly in the crisp, late summer air, she was surprised at how warm she was—especially since Sam had touched her elbow.

  As she entered the house, Sam picked up the bags Hank had delivered and Meg held the door open wide for him.

  “I’ll just take these right on up to your room,” Sam said as he started upstairs. Meg wasn’t sure if she should follow him or not, as she hadn’t had a tour of the house yet and still felt a little like she was trespassing.

  She turned to go into the parlor and stopped just inside as she noticed a big, white sheet covering something that appeared to be a very large piece of furniture.

  Glancing around the room, she didn’t see any other pieces of furniture covered and, intrigued, she peeked around the corner to make sure Sam was still upstairs as she slowly lifted the sheet on one corner of whatever it was.

  As she pulled back the fabric a little further, past the rich mahogany at the base of the piece, she gasped in surprise and her hand flew to her mouth. The flicker of the lantern was reflected in a row of ivory—a piano!

  Meg quickly dropped the sheet as if it had burned her and tucked it under the foot of the piano, as close to the way she’d found it as she could remember.

  A piano! She did remember Sam saying that he could read music, and now she knew why. She had grown up with music, her mother an accomplished pianist, and she and her sisters had sung to her mother’s accompaniment almost up until she died. On the very last night before she passed, the girls had gathered around her in her room, and sang Amazing Grace a capella for the first time as Katie was unable to play the piano any longer, and it was a moment she’d never forget. Music was part of her soul, and her gift, she knew.

&nbs
p; Why would he have the piano covered up? He’d asked in his advertisement for someone with musical knowledge or interest. If he loved music as she did, it was just one more check on the list of things she loved about him.

  “All right, you ready to get started?” Meg turned to the staircase as Sam came downstairs and walked into the parlor. He sat opposite the settee where she was sitting, and even though she was on a mission, she wished he had chosen to sit beside her. Someday.

  “Get started? Oh, getting to know each other,” he said. He crossed his legs, his ankle on his knee as he sat back in his chair and smiled.

  “Well, yes. We have to do this systematically.” Meg handed Sam a blank piece of paper and quill that she’d retrieved from the small desk in the parlor while he was upstairs. “I hope you don’t mind. We need paper.”

  “What do you have in mind,” he asked, his brow raised as he looked at her.

  “I thought it might be helpful if we each wrote down the major points in our lives, things that a spouse of a couple of years might know about the other. Then, when we’re finished, we can exchange them and study them. Maybe even ask each other questions.”

  “Like a test in school?” Sam asked, his smile widening.

  Meg looked up quickly, anxious to see if he was making fun of her like Hank usually did. She saw only amusement in his eyes, along with interest.

  “Sort of, I suppose, although I wasn’t the best student in the world. I always wanted to be outside, or singing.”

  “Singing?” he said, frowning. “You have music training? I know that I mentioned that in my ad, but we hadn’t had a chance to discuss it.”

  “In fact, yes, I do. My mother was an accomplished pianist and I learned to sing and all about vocal harmonies from her.”

  Sam smiled, but Meg felt it wasn’t a happy smile—more melancholy. She looked from Sam to the piano, and decided that her first night as his bride might not be the best time to ask him about something that appeared to be painful. It could wait at least until tomorrow.

  “That’s very nice. An appreciation of music is quite a…gift,” he said as he glanced quickly at the piano. Or at the sheet that covered the piano.

  Meg couldn’t stop the yawn that came, and covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle it, fatigue flooding over her all at once.

  Sam stood and said, “I should have thought how tired you must be. Are you hungry for supper? We could then just retire early.”

  “Honestly, I’m not a bit hungry between the late feast and our tea. Are you? I could make you something.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, it’s been quite a long day and I’m happy to retire, as well.”

  “It’s still a little early,” Meg said, glancing toward the grandfather clock that was just about to strike seven o’clock. “What if we each retire to our rooms and finish the assignment, so in the morning we’ll be ready to start studying the answers?”

  Sam’s eyes twinkled as he held out his arm to walk her upstairs. “Assignment, is it?”

  She was flustered for a moment, then realized that he was now, in fact, teasing her.

  “I suppose, yes, an assignment. We want to be successful at appearing to be a happy, long-married couple when your mother arrives, don’t we? This should do the trick.”

  “Yes, yes, that is the goal, I’m afraid. And tomorrow, I have to figure out some way to convince her that I have a job other than as a bartender, too.”

  “There’s always James and Suzanne to ask.”

  “Yes, and a few more friendly offers from friends. I’ll explain over breakfast. Meet you in the kitchen around sun-up? Do you get up that early?”

  Meg laughed…her job milking cows and collecting eggs for the past few years had trained her that early to bed and early to rise was in her best interests. A necessity, actually.

  “Of course. I’m an early riser and truthfully enjoy it.”

  “Hmm…as a bartender I am definitely not and early riser, but I’ve been practicing a change of habits for the time my mother is here. I’m just fortunate that Tripp found a replacement for me. I would have hated to leave him with no one to tend bar.”

  Meg hadn’t considered that Samuel would have to leave his job for his mother’s stay. It appeared that things were a little more complicated than she anticipated.

  “That will be fine,” she said as Samuel stopped in front of a door that she assumed was her room. The long hallway had two doors on each side, rather large for a house in town, and she looked forward to her tour the next day.

  “I’ve left warm water in a basin there for you on the vanity. At least it was warm when I did it.” He laughed and stuck his finger in the basin, frowning as he removed it. “Not so warm now. Would you like something warmer?”

  Meg went to the basin and lowered her finger in as well. The water was tepid, not cold, so she said, “It’s fine. Thank you. It was thoughtful of you.”

  Sam shook his head as he set the last of her bags at the foot of her bed. “It’s the least I can do, Meg. Thank you again for helping me with this. If there’s anything I can get you, I’m right next door.”

  “Thank you, Sam.” Sam closed the door behind him. “And good night,” she said under her breath, looking around at her new home.

  Her heart beat a little faster as it struck her that this really was her home now. She shook any sadness out of her head and sat down at the vanity, raised her pen and started on her list for her new husband, anxious to see what he’d written by tomorrow.

  Chapter 14

  Meg pulled the papers out of the pocket of her coat and opened them, spreading them carefully on her lap. Sam’s eyes left the road ahead as he guided the buggy and he laughed as he spotted the lists of their answers they’d written the night before.

  Breakfast had been a surprise—she’d enjoyed the breakfast he’d made, simple as it was. He’d had it all prepared and on the table when she’d come down after a good night’s sleep—and over their porridge and ham, they’d read each other’s lists, each laughing periodically. She had to admit, when she’d read that he’d never courted anyone before, she couldn’t keep her eyebrows from lifting, and when she’d learned that he hated his glasses and had been called “four-eyes” in school, her heart tugged in sympathy. All around, though, she felt that she knew a great deal more about her husband than she had the night before. Now if she could only remember all of it.

  As they finished reading their exchanged lists, Sam had said, “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, but we’re expected at the mercantile at nine o’clock, just after it opens. Do you know it?”

  Meg laughed, thinking of the hundreds of days she’d brought milk and eggs to them.

  Sam turned sharply at her laugh with a frown that quickly turned to a smile. “Oh, of course you do. I knew that.”

  “That’s a perfect example of why we need to practice these questions and answers until we know them well and could recite them in our sleep.”

  “Hm…I’m not sure that’s going to happen, but we can sure try. We have time for a few before we need to leave for the mercantile.”

  They’d practiced for a bit, woefully failing the tests so far, and now that they’d gotten changed and into the buggy, Meg thought it might be a good idea to try again. Sam’s mother’s visit was looming, and she wanted to make sure it went well—at least on her end.

  “So, how old am I?” Meg asked, starting with one that she thought would be simple.

  “Ah, I think…ah…”

  “Samuel Allen, that should be the simplest one on the page,” Meg said, laughing and shaking her head.

  “Yes, it should be, but you look much younger than your years,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “I’m not old enough for that to be a compliment yet.” She nudged him with her elbow and proceeded to the next question. “All right, let’s try a really easy one. How many sisters do I have?”

  “Five. I do know that, because Hank always talked about h
is six sisters. But wait, I need to know the answer to the first question.”

  “Which should have been as simple as the first. I’m twenty-two.”

  “And I am…” He turned to her and winked.

  “I must have been paying better attention. You’re twenty-five.”

  “Well, shoot, that was a pretty easy one.” He turned back to the road as Meg asked more questions, the majority of which he got wrong, her number of correct answers much higher.

  As Sam pulled up to the mercantile, she folded the papers and placed them safely back into her pocket. “You can escape for now, but we need to practice again later.”

  Sam groaned as he tied the reins to a hitching post and came around to help Meg down.

  Meg frowned as her feet touched the ground. “You don’t want to know more about me?”

  Sam took her hand and squeezed gently. “That’s not the case at all, Meg. I’m enjoying this very much. It’s just as my mother’s arrival gets closer, I realize that this is going to be a very challenging visit. And now I’ve gotten someone else involved as well. Someone I actually care about,” he said as he turned to open the door of the mercantile.

  Meg’s mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly as he turned to her and smiled. Had the most handsome, kind and interesting man she’d ever met just say he cared about her?

  She chalked that up on her “hopeful” side of the marriage list as she walked into the mercantile, past his extended arm, and smiled as Suzanne rushed to hug her.

  James shook Sam’s hand as Sam removed his hat and hung it by the door.

  “Different coming in here without pails of milk and baskets of eggs,” Meg said to Suzanne.

  “I can imagine, my dear,” Suzanne said as she pulled Meg over to the counter. “I’m waiting for the delivery from Archer Ranch right now, and not at all sure who’s going to bring it.”