The Christmas Bride: Christian Western Historical (Window to the Heart Saga Spin-off Book 3)

by Jenna Brandt

  Chapter 5

  A gush of air filled Lucy’s lungs as she inhaled sharply and held her breath. As Matthew turned the knob on the door to the McCoy home, Lucy braced herself for the family dinner. The last three she attended had been difficult for Lucy as she had sensed the displeasure her fiancé’s parents had over their engagement. They were never outright mean to her, but they treated her cold and looked at her with veiled disapproval. Lucy had avoided bringing it up to Matthew, hoping each time it would get better. Maybe tonight would be the night she could win them over. Knowing human nature as she did, she doubted it. Silently, Lucy prayed for God to help her.

  As they walked into the house, Lucy listened for the familiar voices of Debbey and William. Their attendance made the McCoy family dinners bearable for Lucy. Debbey’s conversation and William’s jokes made it possible for her to get through the awkward meals.

  As Lucy and Matthew made their way towards the back of the home where the kitchen was located, the smell of fried chicken drifted towards her. Mrs. McCoy was an excellent cook, and she had taught Debbey everything she knew. It was one area Lucy lacked skills in. Her mother had died when she was young and never had the chance to teach her to cook. What little she knew was from taking care of her father. He never remarried and turned to drinking instead. As soon as Lucy was old enough, she left; tired of the beatings she received whenever she didn't please him.

  When she first became engaged to Matthew, she had hoped to gain a family. She had imagined cooking dinners with Mrs. McCoy, and helping set up the church on Sunday mornings, but none of it materialized. Lucy wasn’t sure what it would take to get Matthew’s parents to accept her.

  “The food smells delicious, Mrs. McCoy. Do you need any help?”

  Ignoring her, Mrs. McCoy requested, “Matthew, can you come over here and stir the gravy while I finish the mashed potatoes?”

  The flagrant lack of acknowledgment didn’t go unnoticed by Matthew, who looked down at Lucy with a concerned expression. She forced a smile for his sake. “You heard your mother. Go help her.”

  Obediently, Matthew walked over to stand beside the older woman in front of the stove. Not knowing what to do with herself, Lucy made her way into the dining room next to the kitchen. She glanced around the room and noticed the piano in the corner, along with a beautiful curio cabinet filled with tiny glass figurines, music boxes, and trinkets. Everything was glinting without a speck of dust. As usual, the table in the center of the room was expertly set with cream linen and fine china. Was this what Matthew would expect of her? Would he expect her to keep the house the way his mother did? Not only was Lucy untrained to do it, but she also wasn't sure she would have the time while running The Trail’s End. Her stomach somersaulted at the thought of not pleasing Matthew, and if she did, could she do it without compromising who she was and wanted to be?

  “What are you doing in here?” Matthew inquired as he ambled over to her side.

  “I didn’t want to be in the way, so I came in here.”

  “You’re never in the way, Lucy.”

  Not wanting to discuss it, Lucy changed the subject. “Where are Debbey and William?”

  “Mother said Debbey hasn’t been feeling well the last couple of days. She thinks she ate something that didn’t agree with her. They’re not coming.”

  Lucy stiffened as her brows came together in worry. How was she going to get through dinner without them?

  “What’s the matter?”

  Before she had to answer, Mr. and Mrs. McCoy entered the room. Mrs. McCoy had a sour look on her face as she walked around the table and removed two of the place settings, afterward disappearing back into the kitchen.

  “Both of you can sit down,” Mr. McCoy instructed.

  Matthew and Lucy took their seats across from each other followed by Mr. McCoy.

  “Do you have your sermon ready for Sunday, Father?”

  “Yes, I finished it yesterday.”

  “Oh, how exciting! Do we get to hear a snippet of it?” Lucy inquired.

  Mr. McCoy directed a narrowed glance at her. “I don’t do that. My process is private. It’s between me and the Lord.”

  “Oh, come now, Father, you could make an exception this once, for Lucy’s sake.”

  With a shake of his head, Mr. McCoy stated, “How we do things doesn’t change just because you bring someone new into the family.”

  Lucy tried to swallow the lump which had formed in her throat as her eyes fell to the empty plate in front of her. She wished Matthew hadn’t insisted his father do anything for her; it only made his father dislike her more.

  Mrs. McCoy made two trips out with serving dishes in hand, the first time carrying the chicken and green beans, the second she brought out the mashed potatoes and gravy. The rolls were already in a basket on the table along with glasses filled with sun tea.

  After placing the final items on the table, Mrs. McCoy took her seat opposite Mr. McCoy. She folded her hands on the edge of the table and her eyes fixed on her husband in anticipation.

  “Let us bow our heads to say grace.” Everyone around the table did as directed before Mr. McCoy continued. “Dear Lord, we thank you for this day and appreciate all you've done for us. We thank you for providing for us and ask you bless our family, helping our new members to learn how to fit into the family.” Lucy’s head shot up as her eyes grew round with surprise. Was he aiming his prayer at her? Did he think she didn’t know her place as his son’s future wife? She dipped her head back down before the prayer ended, not wanting them to see her reaction. “Bless this food to our bodies, in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  The dishes were passed around and everyone served themselves. Lucy placed her napkin in her lap and delicately took her first bite of chicken. It was delectable, with a crispy edge seasoned impeccably and piping hot in the middle. Each bite was better than the last.

  “The food’s delicious, Mrs. McCoy. I’d love to get the recipe so I can make this for Matthew. He’s told me it’s his favorite.”

  “I’m sure your cook at The Trail’s End can fry a basic chicken. Since you will work late nights, Matthew will need to learn to adjust to either making food for himself or eating there.”

  Lucy stiffened under the woman’s carefully constructed rebuke. It seemed Matthew's mother had given a great deal of thought to how she assumed their life together would be. “As the manager, I have flexibility in my schedule. I plan to be home regularly for a few hours around dinner time.”

  A small sniff escaped Mrs. McCoy as she rolled her eyes. “Making dinner is the least of your concerns. Have you given a thought to what it will be like to work while raising children?”

  “Mother! That isn’t any of your concern. It’s between my future wife and me.”

  Mrs. McCoy turned to glare at her son. “Have you discussed it? Or have you been too enamored with her to broach the subject?”

  “We've discussed it and we decided it’s best for our future if she continues to work after we are married,” Matthew explained.

  “Who will raise the children then, if both of you are working? She has no family to help out, and I refuse to do her job for her.”

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time and have always taken care of all my obligations,” Lucy defended.

  Mrs. McCoy jumped onto Lucy's words, proclaiming, “Do you hear that Matthew? She considers your future children an obligation.”

  “You’re taking my words out of context. I didn’t mean it that way. I was simply trying to explain I would expect no one to take on my responsibilities.”

  “You say that now, but what happens—”

  Matthew interrupted with anger, “Mother, stop attacking Lucy.”

  Mr. McCoy raised his hand in the air. “That’s enough, all of you.” Everyone’s eyes turned to focus on the grey-haired man with piercing brown eyes. “The truth of the matter is that we know nothing about your fiancée, Matthew. She seems to have no past before showing up here in West
Linn two years ago.”

  “She doesn’t need to explain herself to either of you,” Matthew asserted. “I know everything I need to about Lucy. I trust her completely.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” Mr. McCoy stated. “Have you asked her where she came from? Why she ventured out west all by herself?”

  Mrs. McCoy asserted, “It isn’t normal behavior for a reputable woman, Matthew.”

  Lucy’s eyes jerked up and locked with Mrs. McCoy as she raised her shoulders with what little pride she could muster. “I left where I’m from because I wanted a better life for myself. It doesn’t make me a dishonorable woman.”

  “She can’t even answer our questions without being evasive,” Mrs. McCoy accused. “That is the most ambiguous answer I've ever heard, Matthew.”

  With a steely voice, Matthew threatened, “If you don’t stop this right now, Mother, we'll leave this house and never return.”

  She must have seen the determined look in Matthew’s eyes because she clamped her mouth shut. The rest of the meal passed by tediously. The conversation was minimal, and the tension in the room was unmistakable. She noticed several times Matthew gave her a sympathetic look which she quickly avoided returning. She didn’t want to add to their already negative opinion of her.

  After dinner, Lucy offered to clear the table and help Mrs. McCoy clean up in the kitchen. Her irritated expression made it obvious she wanted to object but refrained. As Lucy carried in the final dishes from the dining room, Mrs. McCoy gave her a sideways glance as she continued to scrub dishes in the wash basin.

  “Can I dry the dishes for you, Mrs. McCoy?” Lucy asked as she picked up a dishcloth from the counter.

  “Not that one. Can’t you tell from the laced edging, it’s too delicate to be used for such a task.” Mrs. McCoy nodded towards a drawer, “Open the second drawer down and grab one of the cotton clothes.”

  Lucy obeyed and picked up her first dish. “I’m not trying to be evasive about my past, Mrs. McCoy. It’s simply filled with painful memories I’d rather forget.”

  The woman pivoted, causing one of her red locks to fall loose from her bun. The repulsion reflected from her eyes made Lucy cringe inside. “My son has lived a sheltered life, and it seems it has done him a disservice. He can’t see you for what you are, but I do. You’re an opportunist who is smart enough to realize a good man can be taken in by a beautiful smile. To put it bluntly, you’re not good enough for my son, Miss Rogers.”

  Lucy’s hands shook as she felt the anger rise inside her. Gently, she placed the dish on the counter as she forced herself to fight back the tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes.

  “You’re probably right, Mrs. McCoy, since Matthew is the best man I have ever known. Even though I don’t deserve him, God has blessed me with him. My goal is to be the best wife and mother God can help me be.”

  Mrs. McCoy didn’t respond. She simply turned back to the wash basin. Apparently, it was easier to pretend Lucy didn’t exist.

  As Lucy picked up the towel to dry again, a sudden sadness swept over her. She realized even though she desperately wanted to gain the McCoys’ approval, it would never happen.

  Matthew looked at Lucy whose eyes were downcast as they made their way out of the McCoy home. “How are you faring?”

  “I wouldn’t say it was pleasant, but I’ve been through worse.”

  “I’m sorry they acted that way tonight. My mother must be worried about Debbey, and she took it out on you.”

  “When are you going to realize, your mother doesn’t want us to marry? Neither does your father for that matter, but because he’s the pastor of the church, he’s better at hiding it.”

  A confused expression crossed his face. “I think you misunderstood. My parents are just watching out for me. They want to make sure I know who I’m marrying. They were the same way with William.”

  “Were they? You forget, I was around at the time. They were skeptical of him, but they saw his money and foreign title, and they accepted him rather quickly. Yet, we've been courting nearly the same amount of time and they still won’t accept me.”

  “Then why did they make my sister wait nearly six months to get married?”

  “First off, your sister wanted a big wedding. Second, I think your father didn’t want to let go of his only daughter. He would have been that way with anyone and used him being a foreigner as an excuse.”

  “I don’t think it’s wrong for my parents to try to protect their children. They had valid questions tonight. You haven’t been exactly forthcoming with your past.”

  Matthew felt Lucy stiffen where his hand rested on the side of her arm. “What do you want to know?”

  “Where are you from? Why did you come out here to the Oregon Territory?”

  “Originally, I was from a small town in Louisiana called Abita Springs. My mother died when I was seven and my father never got over it. He was a drunk and beat me regularly. As soon as I could leave, I made my way to New Orleans, hoping to find work. I had just as many disappointments there, and decided I wanted to start over somewhere completely new. I heard there were opportunities out west and followed the Oregon Trail to its end.”

  Matthew suspected there was more to the story than Lucy was revealing but he didn’t want to press her. It had been a difficult enough night as it was for both of them.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me, Lucy. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

  “Haven’t you ever gone through something you would rather not talk about? There is nothing good from my past and it’s why I want to leave it there.”

  With a nod, Matthew stated, “I won’t ask you about it again. I don’t care about what you did or who you were, but only about the woman I’ve gotten to know over the past few months.”

  As Matthew walked Lucy back to the boarding house, he felt an overwhelming dread creep into his heart. Was he foolish not to question Lucy further about her past? If she was hiding something big, would it change everything?

  Chapter 6

  The ladies sat around the dining room table in Amelie’s new house. Pierre had their home built simultaneously during the construction of the new bakery. Both were finished within days of each other. Pierre had offered to buy land on the outskirts of town and build a large mansion, but Amelie had declined. She wanted to stay in town near Elise, who lived in their old house with their aunt. Even though Amelie’s new two-story house didn’t quite qualify as an estate, it was the largest home in town.

  “Thank you both for helping me with these favors.” Debbey tied another ribbon on a small box that held a gold-leaf wrapped chocolate heart inside it. “I know you both would rather do something else.”

  Lucy picked up a box from the table and began assembling another favor. “You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself. They’re for my wedding after all.”

  “Yes, but I was the one who insisted you agree to a full-scale wedding rather than the small affair you originally mentioned.”

  It was true. Debbey had not only talked Lucy into an ostentatious wedding, but she had also taken over planning it. It didn’t bother Lucy since she had no experience with such events or expectancies of how it should turn out. All she cared about was marrying Matthew.

  “It doesn’t matter who’s responsible; friends help each other,” Amelie declared. “I need to go refill the pitcher of tea. Help yourselves to the cookies and tartlets on the tray. I will be back momentarily.”

  Both the women nodded as Amelie stood up and made her way into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she rushed out with a giant grin on her face. “I just felt the baby move for the first time!”

  Debbey jumped up and rushed to her best friend’s side. “What did it feel like?” she asked as she placed her hand on Amelie’s belly.

  “Like butterflies rolling along the inside of my stomach. It was the oddest but most wonderful feeling in the world.”

  “Do you think I can feel the little one move?”

 
; “I’m not sure. I think it might be too early.”

  Debbey’s face scrunched up as her lip came out in a pout. “That’s too bad. I would love to be the first person—besides you of course—to feel the baby move.”

  Amelie giggled, “The baby is moving again.”

  Debbey gasped. “I felt it! I felt your baby kick!”

  “Do you want to feel the baby kick?” Amelie asked Lucy, who had been observing the whole interaction. Lucy had never been around a pregnant woman before Amelie. She wasn’t sure how it made her feel. She knew getting married and having children was a common expectation for women. She just assumed she would desire both when and if the opportunity presented itself. Watching Amelie’s and Debbey’s excitement over the baby moving, she wondered why she didn’t feel the same.

  Trying to mimic the same reaction, Lucy stood up from her chair and walked over to Amelie. Hesitantly, she placed her hand on Amelie’s stomach. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Lucy was ready to give up. Just as she pulled her hand away, she felt the sensation of a rolling motion. Her eyes grew wide as a grin spread across her face. “You’re both right; that is amazing.” For the first time in her life, Lucy saw the appeal of being pregnant.

  For the next several minutes, the women stood around laughing and talking about the baby until Amelie swayed and braced herself against a nearby chair. “I guess I’m getting tired from all the excitement. I think I need to sit down.”

  Once they were back in the chairs, they returned to making favors. “What is the status with William’s family?” Lucy inquired.

  “We've been praying his brother would recover, but the latest telegraph informed us not only is his brother getting worse, but the sickness has spread to their father. I’m grateful the wedding is in a few days because I think William and I will be on a ship set for England shortly after.”

  Amelie reached over and patted her friend’s hands. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m scared to leave everyone I know, but I married my husband knowing I might have to because of these circumstances. It’s only temporary until they recover. Once they are better, we can return to West Linn.”