The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0)

by Elaine Manders

  She was a slip of a girl, her head just topping his shoulder. He could span her tiny waist with his hands and have an inch or more to spare. Resisting the urge to lift her, he took her white-gloved hand and assisted her onto the buggy’s seat.

  Erich climbed up on the driver’s side and managed a sidelong glance as he took the reins. Ben hung on the back with the luggage.

  As they approached the mercantile, Prudie sprang to the edge of the buggy seat. “Is that your store?”

  “It is. You want to see it now?”

  “Yes, I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking of your store all the way from Cambridge.” She might look like a young girl, but her voice held the authority of a grown woman who expected to get her way.

  He didn’t know why her words left him a bit deflated, but he pulled back on the reins. “Ben, you go on with the luggage. We’ll walk to the boardinghouse from here.” He jumped down and helped Prudie to the ground. This time, he tucked her arm into the crook of his. He might not know much about ladies, but he was learning fast.

  The bell tinkled over the door as they entered. No customers were about, but Eustace was behind the counter. Erich didn’t release Prudie’s arm until they were all the way to the back. He introduced her to his clerk. Eustace stood as tall as his painfully thin frame would allow, his brown eyes bulging and black hair slicked with pomade.

  Eustace said the right words in greeting, but he looked at them like he’d just eaten a persimmon. “Things have been slow today—real slow.”

  Prudie glanced from Eustace to Erich. “Is there a reason for that?”

  “Middle of the week. Things pick up by week’s end,” Erich said.

  Prudie favored him with a smile that turned his insides to mush. “I’m sure you can do something to bring in more business. What’s the demographic makeup of the town?”

  “The what?”

  Erich was glad Eustace asked the question, because he didn’t know what she was talking about either. He knew from Prudie’s letters she was an educated woman, and he sure didn’t want to show his ignorance on the first day.

  “What’s Bent Fork’s population?” she asked.

  Eustace stared blankly, forcing Erich to field the question. “I don’t rightly know, Prudie. I just came to town a couple of weeks ago as I mentioned in my last letter. It looks fairly prosperous to me as towns go.”

  Her lips tilted into a slight smile. “We’ll think of something to change things around. The store looks to be well-stocked.”

  “That’s not the problem, ma’am,” Eustace said. “We’ve been robbed twice in the last month.”

  “Robbed?” Prudie looked worried.

  “Somebody broke in and stole money from the cash box. It hasn’t happened since I arrived. I take the deposit to the bank every day now.”

  Prudie shivered. “Good idea. I think you wrote that your house is in back of the store.”

  “It is directly back, but one street over. Don’t worry about anyone breaking into the house.” Why would he know she was questioning her personal safety? He remembered Pa telling him the first job of a man was to protect his women folks. Until the day he died, Pa blamed himself for Ma’s death because he let her go out alone that day.

  Erich propped a hip against the counter while Prudie meandered up and down the aisles, stopping every few steps to examine the merchandise. When she returned, a smile curved her lips. “Everything looks tidy, but prices aren’t given.”

  “People ask if they want to know.” Eustace rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and his tone dismissed Prudie in a way that irritated Erich. There wasn’t much he could say, though. He didn’t know a lot about selling, except what experience he’d gained selling his father’s furniture, and that was mostly through commissions.

  Prudie directed her cute little pout toward Erich. “But that creates more work for the clerk, besides the customer would appreciate knowing the price before making a decision.”

  It made sense to Erich. “Why don’t you make up price tags for the items, Eustace? We’ll see how it goes.”

  Eustace’s mouth twisted like he wanted to protest, but after sending Prudie a sharp glance, he shrugged. “Yes, sir.”

  Prudie gave the place another sweeping glance. “It’s a wonderful store, Erich. Small by Massachusetts or New York standards, but I see so much potential.” She held out her hand. “I’m ready to go to the boardinghouse now.”

  Erich was staring into her eyes so intently, it took him a minute to realize she was ready to go.

  At the door, they found Erich’s spaniel blocking the entrance. He’d had Rusty for years, having found the pup while living on the mountain.

  Rusty didn’t take to strangers as a general rule, but Prudie turned all his canine defenses to dust and set his tail to thumping. The silly dog would’ve jumped up on her if she hadn’t kneeled to his level. Then he tried to lick every inch of exposed skin.

  “Hold on, Boy,” Erich admonished.

  Prudie laughed. “What a pretty dog. My father used to have a couple of spaniels. They were supposed to be hunting dogs, but they mostly just lay by the hearth.”

  “Glad you like him. Some folks don’t like dogs inside the house, but Rusty’s been with me for ten years, and he likes lying by the hearth.”

  “He’ll always have a place in my house. We redheads must stick together.” She scratched Rusty behind the ears.

  “My house.” That meant she still wanted to be Erich’s bride? He watched the way the sun turned her glorious hair to different shades of red, and felt the last fear of rejection topple. This was the woman God sent him. She was perfect for him. He couldn’t have found a more perfect woman if he’d ordered her out of the catalogue.

  “We’d better get on over to the boardinghouse.” He cupped her elbow, helping her to rise.

  Rusty would have followed, but Erich ordered him to stay. The dog whined but obediently sat back on his haunches.

  Erich supposed this little woman would have him as well trained before it was over. At the moment, that didn’t bother him at all.

  Chapter 5

  Prudie sneaked a sidelong glance at her intended. Mountain man was a good name for him. He was almost a foot taller than she was. The red plaid shirt straining over muscular shoulders was tucked into a wide leather belt around a trim waist. Viking blood must flow in his veins, as his name suggested, though his hair was brown instead of blond. His hair came down over his collar and his beard almost to his chest—nothing like the neatly manicured beards and moustaches of the men she’d known. His features, not hidden by the hair, were pleasant enough.

  It was evident he wasn’t used to being around women, and his attempts at gentlemanly behavior were rather endearing. She made him nervous, and oddly, that fact gave her more confidence than she should be feeling.

  Prudie might not have Carianne’s perception, but she knew men. She judged Erich to be a genial man, the type who wouldn’t hesitate to confront a grizzly or rescue a kitten from the top of a tree.

  When they entered the boardinghouse, Prudie spied Ben with his back to them, sorting the mail—or what she supposed was mail—into the cubby holes behind the counter.

  He turned at the sound of the door closing behind them. “I got your luggage in your room, young lady, if you’re ready to go up.”

  Before he’d retrieved her key from one of the cubby holes a short, stout gray-haired woman, with her apron flapping, hustled from the back. “Wait a minute.”

  She strangled one of Prudie’s hands in both of hers. “My name’s Sibbie. I belong to Ben…,” she laughed, “most of the time. What do you think of our mountain man?” She cut a sly gaze to Erich.

  There was nothing about this woman Prudie couldn’t like, including her blatant question, but she detected a tinge of pink in Erich’s cheeks and tried to cobble the words to put him at ease. “I’m pleased to meet him and look forward to getting to know him better…in fact, I’m pleased with the whole town so far.”

&
nbsp; Sibbie’s hazel eyes twinkled. “What do you say, Erich? Isn’t she a pretty filly? Didn’t I do good?”

  The first hint of irritation sounded in Erich’s deep voice. “Sibbie, I think that’s enough.” He turned to Prudie. “What she means is, she sent in the ad for a mail-order bride—but I answered them.”

  “And I’m glad you did.” Prudie sent a smile to all of them, wondering why Sibbie was the one to send the ad, but now wasn’t the time to find out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to retire to my room for a little while.”

  Her glance rested on Ben. “Would it be possible to have a bath sent up?” She didn’t know the procedure for this small boardinghouse, but was fairly certain it didn’t have a bathing room. Likely, she’d have to pay extra. She was going to miss having servants at her beck and call.

  “I have the water heating now,” Sibbie said. “You rest up until dinner. I have a special meal for you and Erich and the best table set. You two can talk without being disturbed. I’ve already made arrangements for the wedding. It’ll be Sunday after preaching.”

  Prudie moistened her lips. In three days’ time? She wasn’t surprised by the rush, but now she was here, it seemed much too soon. “This coming Sunday?”

  “Yes. Well you see, most folks have to come from a far piece to church, so we thought we might as well save them a trip.”

  “If that’s too soon for you, Prudie—”

  The concern in Erich’s eyes made Prudie interrupt him. She’d come for the express purpose to marry him. There was nothing to be gained in waiting. The sooner she had his ring on her finger, the better. “No—no, Sunday’s fine.”

  “Do you have a wedding gown?” Sibbie asked.

  Prudie hadn’t thought of a wedding gown, but that didn’t concern her. “I have a gown that will suffice.”

  Sibbie bobbed her head, obviously pleased. “Good, then all you have to do is show up. The ladies and I are going to put on a spread afterward. It’ll give you and Erich a chance to meet everyone. Hope it don’t rain.”

  A chance to meet everyone? Didn’t Erich know the people? Then she remembered. Erich was almost as new to Bent Fork as she was. It was thoughtful of the ladies of the town to go to so much trouble. She was about to say so when Erich spoke up. “Thank you, Sibbie,” He set his battered leather hat on his head. “I’ll be seeing you at dinner, Miss Prudie.”

  Chapter 6

  Two hours later, Prudie sat at the secluded table, staring into Erich’s deep, smoky eyes. They weren’t exactly blue or gray, but reminded her of the sky as seen through a thick fog on a sunny morning.

  She felt invigorated after a bath and change of clothing. The food was a delicious steak and potatoes with late English peas. She did most of the talking, telling Erich about how her father had built up his merchandizing business from a single story mercantile to a multiple warehouse export business. She left out the part about her plans to help manage the business and her brother’s betrayal. In fact she didn’t even mention her brother. No reason to ruin the evening.

  As they waited for their dessert, Erich surprised her by asking, “What do you think of me, Prudie?”

  “I think you’re the first truly chivalrous man I’ve ever met.”

  He reared back, obviously surprised. “Why do you say that?”

  “The men I’ve known pretend to be chivalrous, but underneath they give women no more credibility than Cervantes’s Dulcinea, who was just an imaginary character.”

  “Don Quixote, right?”

  Now she was surprised. His appearance didn’t give one the impression of a man who read Cervantes—or anything. She hadn’t written or spoken of her education. He’d written that he’d only completed grammar school, and she didn’t want him to feel inferior. A woman could never show herself intellectually superior to a man—not if she wanted to pursue him. Erich wasn’t as pompous as the Harvard men she’d been associating with, but he was still a man.

  “I found Don Quixote to be rather dull reading,” she said.

  “So did I, but fortunately my father had an extensive library, especially the classics. Moby Dick by Melville is my favorite. What’s yours?”

  Truthfully, Prudie didn’t read much for pleasure. Carrying a full college load, who had the time? “I like Jane Austin. She wrote about English social life.”

  “I know. At the peril of embarrassing myself, I confess as soon as I began corresponding with you, I read Austin’s Sense and Sensibility.”

  “Why should that embarrass you?” Prudie liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His extensive reading would explain why he spoke more eloquently than a mountain man. “Though it is a little unusual for a man to read Austin.”

  He leaned across the table. “I’ve never known…that is, never been around young women, so I hoped to get some insight into the female mind by reading a woman author.”

  Touched that he’d go to the trouble just to understand her, she dropped her head. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she was nothing like the Dashwood sisters. When she lifted her gaze, he was staring at her with an intensity that sent a golden mellow shiver like a shaft of sunlight through her.

  “Here’s your dessert, chickens.” Sibbie deposited a plate of nut pie with a dollop of whipped cream in front of each of them.

  “Looks wonderful, but I won’t be able to eat it all after that enormous steak.” Prudie smiled. “The dinner was delicious, Sibbie.”

  “I’ll eat what she doesn’t,” Erich said.

  Sibbie’s homey laughter floated after her as she strutted back to the kitchen.

  They ate in silence for several minutes. Never had Prudie felt so comfortable around a man. She could imagine sharing meals with Erich for the rest of her life.

  Taking a sip of the now lukewarm coffee, she glanced over the rim of her cup. Erich had finished his pie and was patting a napkin to his lips. A bit of whipped cream remained on his moustache. She covered her finger with the corner of her napkin and cupped his chin with her other hand to wipe the smudge.

  She hadn’t realized the intimacy of her action until she noticed his startled expression.

  “Guess I’m a little messy,” he said when she leaned back in her chair.

  “Not at all. Have you ever considered shaving your beard?” She was sure a handsome man hid behind all that hair.

  The fork he held clattered to his plate, and he cleared his throat. “No, can’t say I ever have. It didn’t seem needful up on the mountain.” Utensils rattled against china as he attempted to put them in their place. “The truth is, Prudie, I have a scar here.” He touched his jaw. “The beard hides it, I guess.”

  “Is that all? I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. You would know best, of course, but I think you’d look distinguished clean shaven.”

  He coughed. “I intend to see the barber before we…before the wedding. I’ll think on shaving it.”

  She smiled. “You do that. Would you like the rest of my pie? I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  “No. It was mighty good, but Sibbie managed to fill me up for once."

  Prudie tried to think of something to say to change the subject. She’d embarrassed him with talk of his beard. Her friends complained that she was too forward at times, and maybe this was one of those times.

  Before a safe topic came to mind, a husky man of medium height and wearing a star on his coat stopped at their table. “Erich, could I have a word with you?”

  “Prudie, this is Sheriff Dowd.”

  The sheriff whipped off his hat. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “If this is private, I can go on up to my room.” She started to rise, but Erich held up a hand.

  “Even if it is private, I’d like you to hear. Have a seat, Sheriff. Miss Walsh and I are getting married Sunday.”

  “I heard. Congratulations to you both, but this won’t take long. I just wanted you to know I think I’ve caught your burglar.”

  “Oh?”

  “Y
eah. Harold Jenkins. He’s a fifteen-year-old kid who’s been running wild since his pa died last year. Anyway, Eustace caught him swiping a slab of bacon a little while ago.”

  “The mercantile sells bacon?” Prudie hadn’t seen any in the store, but it was a good idea if the town didn’t have a butcher’s shop.

  “Ole Joe Simpson, the hog farmer keeps the store supplied,” Erich said. “But just because Harold swiped bacon doesn’t mean he was the one who broke into the store and cleaned out the cash box.”

  “Well, it’s likely he did. I got him in jail for stealing the bacon.” The sheriff rocked back on his heels. “I better be going.” He doffed his hat at Prudie. “Ma’am.”

  Erich’s brows drew together. “Wait a minute, Sheriff.” He almost toppled the table, trying to get up. When the sheriff returned, Erich settled back down. “I don’t want a boy going to jail for stealing food. I heard he and his ma are just getting by.”

  “He’s old enough to get a job, and that’s what I intend to tell him.”

  Erich frowned. “I don’t feel right putting anyone in jail for stealing food. Couldn’t you let him go this time with a warning? Tell him to come by the store, and I’ll give him a box of stuff to take to his ma.”

  Prudie bit the inside of her lip. Here she was thinking Erich was the perfect husband and business partner. He’d just revealed a real problem. Letting kindness overrule good business sense.

  Her father’s words came back to her when she’d caught him refusing credit to a lady. “Prudie, a store owner can’t let sympathy keep him from making sound decisions. It’s easy to over-extend credit, but if you do that, you have to make up for the losses. Giving away your merchandise isn’t fair to your paying customers, because when the store goes out of business, they all suffer.”

  It made sense to her. “Erich, have you considered if you let this boy go unpunished, he won’t learn his lesson and might continue stealing until he ruins his life.”