MARGARET_Suffragettes Mail-Order Bride
Page 4
“You only just – Jacob!” Cora snapped. Jake winced, even though he did his best to hide it, and turned around so he could meet his mother’s wrath like a man. “Did you not tell Margaret that William would be living with you?”
Jake ran a hand over his chin, forgetting it was dirty and he was still sweating from the ride. He frowned when he thought about how unkempt he must look. This was not the first impression he’d wanted to make.
“I – it must have slipped my mind.”
The letter he’d written to Elizabeth – sweet, kind Elizabeth who’d made him laugh and feel at ease while she’d interrogated him in his own kitchen – hadn’t mentioned the stage coach robbery, or his brother and sister-in-law, or his nephew’s new living arrangements. He hadn’t set out to deceive her, but when it came time for him to write the letter, he hadn’t been able to put the loss into words. It just felt… wrong. So he’d left it off.
“Must have slipped your mind,” Cora repeated, filling those words with the contempt they deserved. “Well, I certainly hope nothing else slipped your mind.”
“Why don’t you take Miss Singleton to get settled and you can judge for yourself?” Jake asked, suddenly indescribably annoyed. Cora knew exactly how he felt about losing Hank and Katy. She knew he didn’t like to talk about it.
Cora sniffed. She looked between Margaret and Jake, and Jake thought he could see a flash of understanding behind her eyes. Jake pursed his lips and turned his back on them. His mother had always been terribly observant.
“Why don’t you finish over-brushing Toby, and escort us both to my house?” Cora said.
Jake sighed and leaned his head against Toby’s back. Toby let him. “I’m busy, Mom.”
“Too busy to see your fiancée settled?” she asked. “I didn’t raise you that way.”
Jake didn’t groan. But he wanted to. It was one thing for her to make him feel guilty for omitting things from his letter to Elizabeth – which, he supposed, was fair enough because he shouldn’t have omitted them – but this was just embarrassing. Being scolded like a child in front of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. Even if he did deserve it.
He glanced at Margaret out of the corner of his eye, she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at his dog – the young female, one of the scrawniest in the litter. She was petting the dog’s ears. At least she didn’t look amused about Jake’s mother taking him to task.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’ve got a lot of things to do, so this can’t take long.”
“It’ll be quick as a flash,” Cora said. She turned to Margaret and offered the younger woman her elbow. “Come on, dear – I’ve drawn you a bath.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to –”
“Nonsense, you’ve travelled a long way. You deserve a good soak.”
Margaret coiled her hand over Cora’s elbow and allowed herself to be led out of the stable. She didn’t even look at Jake. The dog trotted along at her heels, apparently intent on following the city girl everywhere.
Jake sighed, brushed futilely at the dirt on his pants, and hung up his brush. He gazed around the stable – at the familiar hard, dark wood worn with age but sturdier than iron. At the railings worn smooth from decades of ropes being tied around them. At the sweet, clean hay under foot. He loved this ranch. If he thought his mother would allow it, he would sleep in the fields under the stars every night just so he could be closer to it.
Before William had been orphaned, Jake had begun to wonder if he needed help to run the ranch. It was growing faster than he’d thought it would under his care. His mother had run it capably in the wake of his father’s passing, but it wasn’t until Jake had turned eighteen and inherited properly that he’d seen the ranch begin to thrive. It wasn’t his mother’s fault – she’d had no love of business or ranching. Jake’s brother had been the same. He became a clerk and married a girl from town instead of joining Jake on the ranch.
While Jake loved running it himself, he had slowly begun to realize the place was too big for one man. He’d hired other men, but that hadn’t fixed the problem. The problem was it didn’t feel whole – the house he lived in was bare and empty, and the dinner table had none of the heartfelt warmth it had when his father had been alive. His mother had asked for privacy, and he’d given it to her, but the fact was that he’d been lonely. He’d wanted a partner – someone to share his ranch with. Someone who would support him and care about him. He wanted what Hank had with Katy, what his father had with his mother.
He’d thought he’d found it in Abigail. But she’d turned out to be less interested in a partnership and more interested in being taken care of. He was glad Miss Singleton seemed so concerned about being treated equally. Maybe they would make a good pair after all.
With that thought, Jake straightened his hat and followed the women out of the stable.
Seven
Margaret stirred and raised her head off of the fluffy pillow, staring around at the room in confusion. She was lying on top of a heavy duvet, sprawled across a large bed with sunlight streaming through the window across from her. It took her a moment to remember how she’d come to be there.
“Oh, of course,” she said to herself.
Cora MacDonald, Margaret’s future mother-in-law, had taken her to a cosy little cottage behind the barn. It was homely and sweet, and completely different from the house her son lived in. Jake had followed the women with his hands stuffed in his pockets and acting remarkably put-upon. Margaret had ignored him as she’d been shown into the house, taking her leave from Cora and retreating to her new room – which had some personality, even if it still didn’t quite make her feel at home. She’d lain down on the bed for a moment to rest her eyes and wait for Jake to leave, but he and his mother had gotten into some kind of argument and the next thing Margaret knew, she was waking up with the sunlight streaming through the window.
It was morning sunlight. Margaret must have slept through the rest of the day and all night.
She was still in her travel dress. It felt heavy and old and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of sleeping in it without bathing. Someone had come into her room at some point and laid a blanket over her as she’d slept. Margaret felt herself blushing at the thought.
“Wonderful first impression, Singleton,” she muttered, running her hand through her hair and shaking her head at herself.
She’d hoped to talk to Cora. Get to know her, perhaps, and enjoy some conversation with a woman who had no problem pointing out when Jake was rude. As soon as Margaret had seen the other woman calling her son out on his behaviour, she knew they would get along.
Margaret couldn’t tell what time it was, but she had a feeling it was late. She could hear voices coming from behind the closed door of her smallish bedroom. Quickly, Margaret pushed herself out of bed and moved over to the vanity. It was a plain wooden vanity, not nearly as decadent as the vanity she’d used at Elizabeth’s house, but she preferred the simpler version in front of her.
Her hair was a mess. She brushed it out and tied it into a simple braid. She considered changing her dress, but she didn’t want to make Cora wait any longer than she already had. Instead, she quickly washed her face in the basin in the corner of the room and stepped out of the room.
The hallway was decorated with landscapes. Margaret admired them as she passed – she hadn’t taken the chance the day before because she’d been so determined to escape the indifference of her future husband and the argument she could sense brewing between him and his mother. Now, Margaret took the time to examine the delicate brushwork and vibrant colours on the canvases. It was lovely work.
As she got closer to the kitchen, she realised the voices she heard weren’t adult voices. One of them was: Cora’s voice, bold despite her advanced age. The other was a child’s voice. That must be Jake’s nephew – the child she hadn’t been expecting. William.
Margaret ran a hand nervously over her hair and let herself through the kitchen door.
“I’m terribly sorry –” Margaret began, but Cora cut her off.
“Don’t apologize, dear, you must have really needed the rest. I hope you slept well?”
“Wonderfully,” replied Margaret.
William watched from the floor. He looked to be about seven or eight, and there was an edge of weariness to his gaze as well as a faint shadow of melancholy. At Cora’s look, the boy stood up and stepped forward, offering Margaret his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Singleton,” he said, in the sort of tone that made Margaret think he had rehearsed it.
Margaret took his hand and shook it gently, bobbing into a short curtsy as she did. “And you as well, Mr. MacDonald.”
“You can call me Will,” the boy said. His tone had changed, so Margaret knew that part hadn’t been rehearsed.
“And you can call me Margaret,” she replied. She wanted to offer her condolences for his loss, but she wasn’t sure if now – when they’d just met – was the time. Perhaps later, when they knew each other better? “That’s quite an impressive train,” she said instead.
“Thanks!” Will said, brightening up instantly. He picked it up off of the ground and offered it to her, and Margaret made a big show of admiring it from all angles.
“I see that you two don’t need me,” Cora said. Margaret looked over to see the woman standing up and straightening her dress, watching Margaret and Will with approval. “There’s some porridge left for you, dear. I’ll just run you a bath.”
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself –”
Despite the fact that Margaret desperately wanted a bath, Cora had run her a bath the day before, and Margaret had apparently fallen asleep without taking it. So it had gone to waste. She felt bad about making the other woman run two baths in two days.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Cora said in a tone which told Margaret there would be dire consequences if she argued. “You two get to know each other. William, help Miss Margaret with her porridge, won’t you?”
Will nodded as his grandmother left the room before putting his tiny hand in Margaret’s and pulling her towards the breakfast table.
“You can sit down, I’ll make you some food.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Margaret replied.
Will poured some porridge into a bowl, and then watched her as she ate it with his head in his heads and his elbows on the table. He watched her as though everything she did was fascinating. If she hadn’t been used to children, she would have found it terribly distracting – but as it was, she just shovelled the food down as her belly growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
“Are you here to marry Uncle Jake?” Will asked as she ate.
“Yes,” Margaret replied easily. She had to swallow her mouthful so she could speak.
“Do you love him?”
Margaret wondered if she should lie, then decided she shouldn’t. “No, Will – I just met him.”
Will thought that through. “Do you think you’ll love him soon?”
“I… maybe,” she said.
“Papa and Mama loved each other,” he said. The shadow of melancholy fell over his face. “They said that Uncle Jake shouldn’t marry someone if she didn’t love him.”
Margaret nodded, setting her spoon down in her bowl and giving Will her full attention. It was a strategy she’d learned as a teacher when children were talking about something that mattered to them – if she didn’t give the boy all of her attention, he would learn that his feelings didn’t matter, and that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I was very sorry to hear about your parents,” she said. “My parents died recently as well.”
Will shifted forward in his seat, watching her with his big eyes. They were the same shade of dark brown as his uncle’s – like black coffee.
“Do you miss them?”
“Very much,” she replied.
“Does it stop hurting?”
Margaret felt a lump swelling in her throat at the question, because it was one she’d asked herself so many times since the fire. “I don’t know – I hope so,” she said. “But it hasn’t stopped hurting yet.”
Will nodded like he had expected that answer. He didn’t tear up, his lip didn’t tremble. He seemed to be resigned to his grief. “Gran says it’ll stop, but it’ll take a while.”
“Your Gran sounds very wise,” Margaret said. He nodded again.
It occurred to her in that moment that it wasn’t just Will who’d lost someone – Cora and Jake had lost family. She supposed that up until that point she’d been more focused on the boy who’d lost his parents because she’d lost her parents as well. But Cora had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Jake had lost his brother.
It didn’t excuse the man’s rudeness, but perhaps Margaret could take that into consideration in her dealings with him.
Cora returned as Margaret was finishing her porridge. “Your bath is ready, dear.”
“Thank you so much,” Margaret said. Then she turned to Will, who was still watching her. “Maybe when I’m done with my bath, you could take me on a tour of the ranch?”
“Sure!” he said, brightening up again. Margaret envied his ability to bounce back like that.
Margaret left him in the kitchen playing with his train and followed Cora down the hall towards the bathroom.
Eight
Freshly bathed and dressed in simple dark green, Margaret returned to the kitchen to find Cora and Will ready to take her on a tour of the ranch.
“Uncle Jake has a lot of animals,” Will said, rushing forward to take her hand and drag her towards the door. He seemed excited and Margaret felt guilty for making him wait to show her his new home. “Do you like animals?”
“Oh yes,” Margaret said. “I met the dogs yesterday – they’re wonderful.”
She still hadn’t thought of a name for the female with the black spot on her back. Margaret decided to give her one by the end of the day.
“The dogs are nice, but the cows are better,” Will replied. He left his train in the kitchen, but clutched the bear in one small hand.
Just as they made it into the hall, the front door opened and Jake MacDonald entered the house. He looked tired, and there was dirt smudged on his face and hands just as it had been the day before. It didn’t make him any less handsome. His presence filled the room, and Margaret felt butterflies in her stomach.
When Will saw his uncle, he dropped Margaret’s hand and barreled forward into Jake’s arms. Jake didn’t flinch or hesitate – he gathered the boy up and threw him into the air before catching him and holding him close, a huge smile lighting up his face. His Stetson was knocked off, revealing dark hair which curled around his ears and made him look even more like his nephew.
Margaret felt her smile reach all the way to her heart. Jake’s face was completely transformed by that smile. He had been handsome before, but now, with his lips spread in a half-laugh and his eyes sparkling in a way that made them look less dark and more like thick chocolate, he was devastatingly handsome. She’d known on some level he was strong, but seeing him lift Will so easily brought that fact home. When their eyes met she felt the intensity of his joy like a warm light on her face and she had to look away, feeling a hot flush creeping up her face. It felt as though she was interrupting something – a moment between nephew and uncle which shouldn’t be witnessed by outsiders.
She was suddenly aware that her hair was still wet from the bath. Short tendrils of brown framed her face because she couldn’
t get them into the braid. She resisted the urge to try and push them back and straighten them. As Jake had made clear, their relationship was one of mutual benefit. She was under no obligation to look good for him, and she needed to get that under control now.
“Uncle Jake – we’re taking Margaret to see the ranch!” Will said. His arms were around Jake’s neck so that his voice was muffled by the man’s hair. “You should come too.”
“I’d like nothing better,” he replied. He gave Margaret an appraising look and she wanted to hide her face from his scrutiny.
Cora begged off, bustling herself into the kitchen with some mending. Margaret wondered, not for the first time, why Jake had felt the need to hurry along the mail-order bride process with Elizabeth’s agency and Margaret’s arrival, when Cora seemed entirely capable of taking care of Will. Margaret may be good with children in her capacity as a teacher, but she had absolutely no experience as a mother – whereas Cora had successfully raised at least two men. It seemed to Margaret that Cora was far more qualified to care for Will than Margaret was.
They stepped out of the house and Margaret was struck by the amount of space around her. She was used to the closed-in high buildings of Boston. Even when she was spending time at the park there was always a sense of the city looming all around her, but now as she stood on the front porch of Cora’s cottage, she could see the wide, open planes of Montana. The mountains were in the distance, and between her and those mountains were fields of tall wheat plants and cattle grazing.
Jake and Will walked towards the stables first. They were chatting together and Margaret could not help but feel like an outsider as she followed in their wake. To her surprise, they bypassed the stables with the horses and instead aimed towards the rusty-red barn.
The barn looked sturdy and weathered. Jake allowed Will to precede him inside and turned to Margaret.
“We’re not going to see the horses today,” he said in a low voice. “Will hasn’t liked them since the robbery.”