Matt cleared his throat. “Miss Russell, this is my ma, Nicolette Denton.”
Addressing his future wife that way felt odd, and Matt hoped that they’d be able to drop the formalities soon.
“Where’s Pa?”
“He’s washing up,” Ma said. “Getting himself presentable.”
Matt smirked over that. At first, he’d been nervous to tell his parents he was thinking about ordering a bride from back East, but, to his surprise, they’d favored the idea. They’d married in Virginia themselves, thirty years ago. And though they’d hoped Wyoming Territory would present their son with all the opportunities they’d had, plus more, Matt knew they’d been sorely disappointed when it came to the number of gals in the area.
Plus, they knew several of the ladies in Shallow Springs who had come there as brides—“ladies with fine manners,” as Ma always said.
So, though the thought of sharing his plan had caused Matt initial anxiety, it wasn’t long before he recovered from it.
Ma was already guiding Melissa to the front door. “Come in and sit down. Matt, bring her bags.”
Melissa glanced over her shoulder at him—one quick look, but that was all it took for heat to roar in his belly. Leading the horses to the stable so he could unhitch them, he grinned wide before bringing in Melissa’s one bag.
Perhaps Melissa hadn’t come to him in the way he expected his wife would, but that didn’t matter. She was there, and something was already growing between the two of them.
That was all he needed to know he was doing the right thing.
2
2. Allie
Chapter Two
Staring at the distant mountain range from the window of her temporary bedroom, Allie clutched the locket between her fingers. She’d memorized every groove and curve of it on the trip between Cincinnati and Shallow Springs. Now, she felt as if there were a heart-shaped indentation on her palm.
“Miss Russell?”
She turned to find Matthew standing in the doorway. At the sight of him, her temperature rose. He was a handsome man—anyone with eyes could see that. His hair would likely be a medium brown if he did not work outside, but the sun had given it streaks of gold and wheat. Every time he removed his hat—which he always did in her presence—she got a nice glimpse of it.
And his eyes… Goodness, those eyes. Allie had trouble looking into them for very long; it seemed as if their hazel depths saw into her soul, deep into the place where all her secrets lay.
Realizing she’d been looking at him for too long, Allie let go of the locket and tucked it under her collar, back where she had been keeping it.
“Y—yes?” she asked, having trouble finding her voice.
“I was thinking you might like to take a proper look at the farm.” He twisted his hat in his hands.
There was something sweet and innocent about him—almost childlike. That innocence belied strength, though. She’d seen that as well in his eyes.
They’d spent less than twenty-four hours together, and Allie felt as if she already knew him. The thought brought her pleasure… but guilt as well.
Everything brought her guilt now. Or fear. Her heart had been oscillating between those two states for days now, and she doubted that would change any time soon.
“A look around does sound nice, Mr. Denton. Thank you.”
It was her second day on the Dentons’ farm, but she had yet to properly see the land. Instead, the family had allowed her time to rest, something Allie had been grateful for. She needed time alone, space to think and pray.
“I was thinking”—he licked his lips—“since we’re to be married, I’m all right with using our Christian names. As long as that doesn’t bother you.”
The idea made her heart warm. “Matthew,” she tried out.
“Matt,” he corrected. “That’s what everyone calls me.”
She’d heard his parents calling him that over supper the night before, and she liked the sound of his nickname very much.
“Melissa,” he continued, smiling around the word.
Allie’s stomach plummeted. She longed to correct him, but she knew she could not.
“Well,” she said briskly, “let us take a look around the farm. I am sure you have much work to return to once we’re finished.”
She hadn’t seen more than the vegetable garden, which Matt’s mother had taken her to that morning. Matt’s parents had also insisted she call them by their first names—Nicolette and Harold—and Allie had grudgingly complied.
The use of first names was so intimate. In allowing Allie to say them, the family was opening up to her. That she could not return the favor stung.
Taking her out the back door, Matt led the way across the yard. On the far side, Nicolette beat a rug hanging over the clothesline. As they approached, she caught sight of them. Wiping sweat from her brow, she smiled their way.
Allie nodded a hello, relieved that Matt did not stop to converse. She had spent the morning immersed in housework, but Nicolette insisted she retreat to her room for a rest before they prepared the noon meal. Allie had not wanted to pause in the busy work that kept her mind occupied, but she also did not wish to create any conflict.
She was in Shallow Springs not to garner attention but to deflect it.
“Have you seen the stable?” Matt asked. The wide brim of his hat cast a shadow across half of his face, making it impossible for her to see his eyes. Only his strong jaw and full lips were visible.
“No,” she answered.
“It’s my favorite place.”
In comparison to the outdoors, the stable was pleasant. Not cool, exactly, as there was unlikely to be a square foot in Wyoming Territory that one could currently call “cool,” but it was not as hot as outside of it.
“Here’s Sally, our milk cow.” Matt stopped at the first stall. “And that’s her little calf, Edmund.”
“Edmund?” Allie giggled as she looked over the stall. The baby cow lifted its nose, curiously sniffing at the air.
“Real fancy name for a cow, huh?” Matt hooked an arm over the stall and grinned. “That’s what we’re calling him, anyhow. Whoever we end up selling him to can give him whatever name they please.”
“You’ll sell him? Take him away from his mother?” Allie knew that was the way of things, but still, such a thought made her heart ache.
“Course. We already have a bull.” Matt caught sight of her face, and his smile disappeared. “When he’s older, we’ll sell him. We aren’t about to rip the baby away from his ma.”
“Oh. That is good.” Allie felt her cheeks flushing. She had not meant to display such passion.
“We should enjoy his time with us, you know. As long as he’s drinking from the teat, it’s fresh milk for the rest of us.”
Allie remembered the delicious butter on that morning’s cornbread. Indeed, it had been some of the best she’d ever had.
“Other than when we have a bull to sell, the animals are all for us,” Matt explained. “It’s the crops that bring in most of the money.”
“And what are the crops?”
His eyebrows pinched together slightly. “Beans. Alfalfa. Corn… Sugar beets… I wrote you about it, didn’t I?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Allie scrunched her face in apology. “Being here is simply so exciting. I’m liable to forget my own name.”
She turned away at that, torn between laughing at her own blunder and slapping herself for such stupidity.
“And who is in here?” She stopped at one of the stalls in the middle, where a brown horse with an engorged stomach lazily swished her tail.
“This is Oatmeal. She’s expecting a little one any time now.”
Allie inspected the mare’s belly again. “Any time? Today, perhaps?”
Matt scratched his jaw. “Likely not. I figure she has a couple more weeks to go.”
Allie continued down the stable. “Sheep!”
And indeed there were: half a dozen of them, cluttered together in the largest
pen, their wool cut short.
“How lovely.” She reached a hand over the wood to pet one of their heads. When she looked back up, Matt was staring at her intensely.
Allie retracted her hand, feeling self-conscious.
“It’s all right,” he murmured, his voice slow and sweet like dripping honey. “You can pet them.”
Allie kept her hands to herself. “The animals spend all day in here?”
“No. Lately, we’ve been bringing them in during the hottest part of the day. There’s a bit of coverage out there in the fields, but it doesn’t do much in this heat.”
Allie nodded. Sweat had been collecting on her brow and neck since they’d come outside and was now sliding down her back in little trails.
“I suppose my knowledge of farm life seems rather primitive in your eyes.”
Matt chuckled. “That’s all right. You’re a city girl, I know.”
“Yes.” Allie could not help her smile. It was easy to be happy around Matt, she realized. There was a peace about him.
Soft footsteps interrupted the moment. Over Matt’s shoulder, Nicolette entered through the far side of the barn. Using her wrist, she brushed damp strands of silvery-blonde hair from her face.
“There you two are. Having a nice time?”
Allie looked to Matt just as he looked to her. “Yes,” she answered.
“It’s about time to get dinner up,” Nicolette explained. “But I plum forgot to pick up the jar of pickled radishes Mrs. Keenan set aside for me. I was thinking that you two might like to walk into town and fetch it.”
Matt rolled his neck around. “I wish I could, Ma, but I need to get to that fence on the north side. It’s gone without mending for two days now. I promised Pa I’d have it done before noon.”
Nicolette’s focus turned to Allie. “Well, now, how about you, dear? Fancy a little walk into town? The Keenans’ isn’t more than ten minutes away, and you’ll get a chance to see the area on your own some.”
Everything in Allie tightened up all at once. Her jaw. Her stomach. Her limbs. Her body locked, unable to move or say anything. Meanwhile, Matt and his ma stared at her, waiting.
She did not want to go into town. As wonderful as Shallow Springs appeared to be, she longed to stay on the Dentons’ farm, in a place where few people would see her or attempt to speak to her.
Yet that did not matter. Fading into the fabric of the community did.
“Yes,” Allie said, doing her best to ignore her churning stomach. “I would be very happy to do that, Mrs. Denton.”
“Nicolette,” she corrected right away. “And you must wear one of my bonnets. You’ll burn to a crisp out there without any proper covering on your cheeks.”
Allie tried not to look longingly at the animals or Matt as she followed Nicolette out of the barn. She reminded herself that she would return to them soon enough. The world was a big and scary place, but now she had this small farm in the middle of it to cling to.
3
3. Matt
Chapter Three
Matt reached his arms high above his head, stretching out the sore muscles in his shoulders and neck. The sun hovered above the horizon, casting a pink and purple sunset. The last traces of the day’s suffocating heat still hung in the air, but it was only a matter of time before night would win over.
Next to him, Pa ran the pump and splashed water onto his face. Unwinding his handkerchief from around his neck, he dabbed at his cheeks. Both men stood still for a while, appreciating the sunset and the silence.
“Melissa seems to be adjusting as well as can be expected.”
Matt looked over at the main house, where supper and the two women waited. The well’s pump was in the backyard, but he knew the front windows glowed with warmth and light.
“She seems...”
“It’s a big change for her.” Pa wet his hands and ran them through his hair. “It’ll be a while before she’s truly comfortable here.”
Matt considered that. “She’s likely still mourning.”
“Her brother?”
Matt slowly nodded. Melissa had mentioned him in her first letter, saying he’d been her only family. They were orphans, having arrived in New York from Maryland when Melissa wasn’t older than twelve. They’d gone there because her brother had a job waiting for him in a blacksmith’s shop.
For seven years, it had been just the two of them: John working at the blacksmith’s and Melissa toiling away in a laundry house while getting what schooling she could. Then, a year ago, he’d died.
Her brother’s death was the reason she’d decided to become a mail-order bride, Melissa had told him in that first letter. She had nothing left on the East Coast and wished to escape to a place where she could start over.
“You all talk any more about her life in New York?” Pa asked.
“Naw.” Matt looked down and kicked at a tuft of grass. “We haven’t had much time to.”
“Sunday, you’ll get it.”
Matt grunted in agreement. He wanted to know everything about Melissa’s life, not just the bare bones she’d outlined in their correspondence. He wouldn’t push for any information, though. He’d let her reveal what she wanted to when she wanted to.
Pa worked his handkerchief around in his hands, and Matt got the sense the conversation wasn’t done yet. “She’s flighty.”
Matt felt himself recoil at that. “Course she is. You just said yourself that this is a big change for her.”
Pa clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s right. That’s what I said. Let’s get into supper before your ma has our hides.”
Matt frowned, an itching feeling sneaking through him. Was there something his father didn’t want to say?
Deciding he was only nervous over Melissa’s arrival, Matt finished washing up and went into the main house. The familiar sounds of supper being prepared greeted him: the clinking of plates and silverware, the crackling of logs in the cook stove. But tonight, one thing was different.
As he entered, Melissa turned around. She’d fixed her hair since the noon meal, and it was now in two braids wrapped firmly around the crown of her head. Matt must have been staring, because she reached up and lightly touched the braids.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, I, ah… your hair looks real nice.”
“Thank you.” She tucked her chin. Behind her, Matt’s parents exchanged a swift look.
Ma came forward and touched Melissa’s shoulder. “Since yesterday was so rushed, what with Melissa arriving and settling in, I decided tonight is a good one to celebrate her arrival.”
Ma beamed at Melissa, who continued to bashfully smile.
“Sounds good,” Matt responded, not sure what these plans for a celebration entailed.
Truthfully, he didn’t much care. He only wanted to spend some time with his bride, get to know her better. If all went well, every day in the rest of their lives would be a celebration.
His eyes caught Melissa’s again. As expected, she looked away—but there was a blush on her cheeks. If Matt was reading her right, she was coming to fancy him as much as he was her.
“Well, now.” Pa clapped his hands together. “What are we waiting for? I’m so hungry I feel like a bear out of my den on the first day of spring.”
Ma and Melissa brought the dishes to the circular table, and they all settled down.
“Grace,” Ma prompted.
Matt’s hand found Melissa’s right away. The pulsing he’d felt the first time they touched was still there, and he allowed himself to fully enjoy it as he closed his eyes.
“Melissa, would you like to say grace?”
A few seconds passed, and Melissa daintily cleared her throat. Matt cracked an eyelid and peeked at her, finding her frantically licking her lips.
“Yes,” she answered, throat sounding dry. “Thank you, God, for this food… and for all things good.” A pause. “Amen.”
It was one of the shortest graces Matt had ever heard. Th
e instant she finished it, Melissa’s hand flew from his so swiftly it was as if he’d offended her. He opened his eyes, looking at her, but she pointedly avoided his gaze.
No one else seemed to feel as if anything odd had just occurred. Ma was piling food onto Melissa’s plate, talking at a fast pace.
“Now, I know Melissa only arrived, but let’s simply discuss the wedding.”
Her Unexpected Destiny_Seeing Ranch series Page 2