Mail Order Bride – Charlotte's Summer: Clean Sweet Western Cowboy Romance (Seasons Mail Order Brides Book 1)

by Annie Lane

  “Swan necks?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, swan necks, see … right there.”

  Charlotte looked first at the boy, and then over at the clerk who’d wandered over to serve them. “How on earth do you come up with a name like that? It’s just plain old licorice to everyone else.”

  “Weeeeell…” Junior began, drawing the word out as long as he could. “If there’s one thing I learnt from my Ma before she died, it’s that things aren’t always as they appear. She used to tell me that all the time. And she also used to say that there’s beauty in everything, you just gotta look for it sometimes.”

  “I certainly can’t argue with logic like that. Two swan necks coming right up.”

  It was well before noon when the pair returned to the Ackerman ranch. The wheels of the wagon scraped against the rocky drive as they pulled to a stop over by the stables. As per Thomas’s strict instructions, Charlotte tied the reins to the fence and let the horses drink freely from the overflowing troughs. The air was still warm enough, but the sky had lost its previous sparkle, replaced now with patchy, grey rainclouds that threatened to burst at any moment.

  “Thank you, Miss Charlotte,” Junior called as he jumped from the wagon, running backwards a few steps before he righted himself again and dashed across the field. Charlotte stopped a moment and watched him. His small legs were quick and agile and in no time at all he had made it over to his father.

  Earl and Thomas, both shirtless and sweating, were sawing and nailing planks of wood together in some fashion Charlotte knew nothing of. Earl stood tall as his son approached and he smiled so big that it lit up the darkening sky.

  Earl laughed and ruffled his fingers through Junior’s hair. Thomas looked up as well then, and his head jerked toward the house, narrowing his eyes in Charlotte’s direction while he wiped his brow, but it was only a moment before he hunched back over and returned to cutting through the timber with ease.

  A loud rumble moved through the air and Thomas drove his arm with even more power, determined to finish up his work before the sky opened up and finished them off for the day.

  Charlotte felt the blush creep up her neck at the sight of him. His strong muscles shifting and sliding beneath his skin took her breath away. She couldn’t put a name on what it was she felt, but she knew it probably wasn’t the most lady-like of sensations – so she climbed the stairs with all her parcels and tried to push the feeling away.

  She had a job to do and she didn’t have time to be side-tracked with such nonsense. She’d been naive enough to believe she would marry for love, when the cold, hard truth of the matter was that that just wasn’t always the case. Love and pain lived in equal parts, any married couple could testify to that. Charlotte just hoped that, in time at least, Thomas might grow to care for her.

  For the hours that followed, Charlotte happily went about stocking the kitchen cabinets and organizing the shelves in the pantry just the way Mistress Belle had taught her. She had purchased another full satchel of flour, some salt, maple syrup and a bag of vegetables that weren’t growing out in the garden – two onions, a bunch of radish and some celery stalks. All the ingredients she needed for the chicken stew she was planning for dinner.

  She’d also taken the opportunity to pick up an apron. The two dresses she owned weren’t fancy – house dresses at best – but she couldn’t risk soiling them as they were the only ones she owned. She reminded herself to ask Thomas about buying some material in the not too distant future so she might sew herself up a few more.

  Charlotte kept her mind occupied with the business of cleaning and scrubbing down the bench tops and mopping the floors. They probably didn’t need it, but she felt like she was making her mark on the place if she gave everything the once-over, just to be sure. She dusted the ledges and wiped over the bathroom with a damp cloth, all things she’d done many times before.

  Changing the bed linen was something else entirely though.

  She stood at the end of the bed for a while longer than she’d intended, just staring at the thing. She was unsure of which side she might sleep on in just a few days’ time. She’d been forced to share a lot of things over the years, but sharing a bed wasn’t one of them.

  She didn’t know how it would work.

  Would they swap sides each night, or would there be a set arrangement? Charlotte shook her head and giggled, figuring she was getting herself worked up over nothing. Surely they would iron out the details once they were actually married.

  She replaced the sheets with a fresh set she’d found in the linen cupboard and set the dirty ones to soak in the tub. She would never get them washed and hung out to dry before the weather changed, so that would have to do for the time being.

  Leaning back against the kitchen counter, thoroughly exhausted, Charlotte took one final look around the house and wiped her hands down the front of her apron. “There, I think that’s everything. I might just get the hang of this yet.”

  While the apple pie she’d baked earlier rested on the kitchen bench, cooling some before she glazed the top with sugar water, Charlotte took the opportunity to set the table for lunch and wipe down the cupboards.

  Through the open window she noticed some wildflowers dancing about in the breeze, so she decided to go pick a bunch to decorate the center of the table before Thomas came in for lunch. She wasn’t sure if Earl and Junior would be joining them again for a meal, but she wanted to make a good impression just in case. Thomas had set quite the standard with breakfast.

  Flitting out through the open door, she bent slightly to gather them up into a small posy. She figured the chances of Thomas owning a vase of any sort were slim to none, but she’d found some tall glasses in the very back of the pantry that could be put to good use. She kept the stems long so they would fit nicely. Just as she walked back inside, Charlotte’s breath suddenly caught and her feet froze on the spot.

  “Rosy!” she screamed.

  Her lips pursed and her eyes grew wide and wild. Livid wasn’t the right word for what was coursing through her veins. It was so much more than that. She was downright furious. Hour after hour she’d spent making everything just right, and now it was all ruined. The floor was covered in the best part of Charlotte’s delicious apple pie and the walls were smeared with thick, black mud.

  Rosy looked up at the sound of her name – slobbering and snorting and snuffling in some disgusting way that turned Charlotte’s stomach, and if she didn’t know better, she’d have thought the pig was doing it on purpose … to taunt her. When Rosy licked her lips, her tongue reaching from one side of her face to the other, Charlotte just about blew her top.

  “You stupid animal!” she cried, throwing her arms in the air. “Look what you’ve done!”

  Rosy made no attempt to move, choosing instead to lower her head again and gobble down the last few mouthfuls. On instinct, Charlotte lifted the broom from beside the sink and pounded it hard against the side of the door. “Get out … get out of here!”

  Once again, Rosy completely ignored the hullabaloo and decided now might be the perfect time to rub her filthy back on the freshly cleaned cupboards as well. Long streaks of hair and muddy soil stained the timber, along with the remains of yesterday’s slops.

  “You filthy, good for nothing, ugly…”

  Thomas stomped across the living room and marched into the kitchen, swiping the broom straight out of Charlotte’s hand.

  “What in God’s name is going on in here?” he shouted.

  He’d never in his life thought of lifting a finger to any woman, let alone the only girl that’d ever held a rightful place in his heart, so the thought of Charlotte striking Rosy made his blood boil. “I won’t stand for violence in my house. Not for one minute, do you hear me?”

  Charlotte’s face ignited, but for an entirely different reason this time. It had nothing to do with the fact that Thomas was still shirtless and his chest was beading with sweat.

  No. Not at all.

  It all pale
d in significance. What she couldn’t see past was the look of absolute horror on his face. “I wasn’t planning on hitting her, she’s pregnant after all. What do you take me for, Thomas?”

  “Then what’s this?” Thomas barked, holding the broom up in his clenched fist.

  “I was trying to budge the beast, she wouldn’t move even when I told her to and now she’s gone and destroyed your dessert.”

  “She’s never done anything like that before.” Thomas looked around the kitchen, taking in the mess. “You sure you didn’t drop the pie by mistake?”

  “What?” Charlotte gasped, not believing the audacity of the man.

  She took three quick steps toward Thomas, nudging Rosy aside with her leg on the way, and pointed a finger at him so he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that what she was about to say shouldn’t be taken lightly.

  “Let me make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Ackerman. I am more than happy to be here and I look forward to becoming your wife, but if you plan on keeping two women in this marriage then I’ll just as happily leave this town of yours and find another handsome, educated, successful man who might be looking for a bride. I’m sure there are plenty of them out there and if push comes to shove, I certainly won’t hesitate in finding one.”

  “Wh … what?”

  “It’s your choice … so make it!”

  Thomas stared at Charlotte, not knowing quite what to make of her. She was headstrong and willful like no other woman he knew. He should be telling her to mind her place right about now and get to cleaning up all the mess, but he couldn’t get past one thing. One very important thing.

  “You think I’m handsome?”

  Charlotte frowned, ramming her hands on her hips. She couldn’t believe that that was the one thing he’d taken from all her ranting. Her eyes tapered into two thin slits and her lips quivered with anger. “The bible doesn’t take kindly to vanity, Mr. Ackerman. That pretty little church down there might just fall down around you on Sunday.”

  Thomas worried some before he spoke. Charlotte sure was in a dangerous mood, and he didn’t want to stoke the fire, but he thought it best to get everything out in the open. “We’re not getting married in the church. It’s been arranged for the preacher to come by the ranch after service and he’ll marry us in the meadow out the back.”

  Charlotte’s head whipped up. “Why?”

  “Well … uh, you see … with Rosy being pregnant and all … I thought, uh…”

  Thomas stopped talking when Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears and he hung his head, scraping his boot against the floor. She suddenly had a look on her face that made him want to shrink back inside himself. She looked like all her dreams had just been crushed by that one single sentence. Being the one responsible for putting such a sad expression on Charlotte’s face near ripped his heart clean in two. He glanced every which way then, not wanting to catch her eye again for fear that the tears might soon spill over.

  Charlotte took a deep breath. “You need to choose, Thomas. It’s me or the pig inside the house. I won’t stand for her traipsing around like she owns the place. She has a pen, a mighty fine pen by the looks of it too, and she needs to know when she’s crossed the line.”

  “But … I, uh…”

  Charlotte stomped her foot. “Me or the pig, Thomas!”

  Thomas felt his heart do that silly fluttery thing again and he lowered his eyes to the floor once more. He took in her words, turning them over in his mind until they found their rightful place. With the heaviest of hearts he glanced over at Rosy. Her face was covered in pie and crust and something else that may or may not have been edible in the first place.

  Her long lashes blinked slowly against her puffy, round cheeks and she watched him expectedly, like she was just as anxious to hear of his decision.

  After a long, agonizing minute Thomas finally said, “Get out Rosy.”

  Chapter 18

  Charlotte had made a promise to herself when she boarded that train for Helena, that no matter what happened, she would never shed another tear over a man. Her temper had gotten the better of her though, and now she was both humiliated and embarrassed by her childish behavior. Had she seriously just asked someone to make a choice between her and a farmyard animal?

  While Thomas was busy securing Rosy back in her pen and locking the gate, something he never did – all the while mumbling apologies to the forlorn pig – Charlotte ran outside and found a tall tree at the front of the property. She slumped against it until her back slid all the way down and she met the grass with a jolt. But she didn’t care. She was hurting. She was hurting terribly. Hiding her face in her hands was the only way she could hide.

  The sky chose that exact moment to open and the rain began to fall. It was light at first, barely a sprinkle or two, but it soon grew heavy and began to soak through Charlotte’s clothes.

  But she barely noticed.

  Hot, salty tears scorched her eyes and then exploded down over her cheeks with every wave of regret that she felt. Before long it wasn’t clear where the rain ended and her tears began. Never had she intended to fight with Thomas, that’s not how her day had started, but now she feared she could never look him in the eye again.

  Footsteps slowly approached off to one side, the rustling of grass beneath worn-out boots the only sign that she wasn’t alone out in the middle of the paddock, but Charlotte didn’t dare glance up and instead buried her face even further into her arms. Thomas would surely send her packing back to Seattle after this and then she would be all alone again. Dread settled deep inside her and pinned her body to the ground.

  Everything was quiet for a long while then, the shower of rain against the roof the only sound that filtered through the air. Charlotte knew she had to say something though; it was only right after the way she’d behaved.

  Just as she was fixing to make amends, her breath escaped her and a pair of warm, strong hands lifted her to her feet like she weighed nothing at all. Thomas tipped her chin with one finger and lowered his face a little so he could stare deep into the only set of eyes that had ever caused him so much turmoil and so much happiness all at the same time.

  He studied her face, her sculpted cheekbones and her tiny little lips – the color of a summer rose just about to bloom. He loved the creamy texture of her skin, the daintiness of her earlobes and he delighted in the way her nose crinkled every so often, creasing her freckles up on her cheeks.

  “I need to tell you something,” he whispered. He took a deep breath, reaching across to wipe away the last of her tears. “I’ve lived on my own for some time now. Before that my grandparents did the best they could to raise me. They divided their time trying to run this place too, but it was difficult for all of us. The way I see it, they were grieving just as much as I was. They lost their only daughter after all. For a small boy that’s hard to understand, but I’m a man now Charlotte and it’s time I stop blaming everyone else for my hardships.”

  Charlotte sucked back a heavy breath. The honesty and the rawness of Thomas’s words clawed away at her insides and her chest grew heavy with nothing but sympathy for him. It suddenly dawned on her. It wasn’t that Thomas was incapable of loving someone … it was just that he’d forgotten how. No one had showed him in a while.

  He continued. “I’m sorry I raised my voice back there. It won’t happen again … but it seems I got a real soft spot for that pig. She’s been my only real companion out here since my Poppa left me here all alone. Not that I need to be telling you anything about what being alone feels like.”

  He gathered up one of Charlotte’s hands in his and held it there a while. It felt right, like that’s exactly where it always belonged.

  “You’ll never be alone again, Charlotte. I’ll never pick anyone else over you, never. You’re it for me Charlotte, and I hope – more than I’ve ever hoped for anything else in my life – that I will be it for you, too.”

  Charlotte’s heart felt fit to burst right there in the middle of the land, over
come with emotion as it was and her eyes welled with a fresh round of tears. She was just about to tell Thomas that she felt exactly the same way … when a loud grunt was heard from around the side of the house.

  Thomas turned slightly and then shook his head, water spraying from it in every direction. Another loud grunt, followed closely by a deep, primal moan and Thomas flinched. The whimpering that came between the louder howls was intermittent and only lasted a few seconds before the wailing started up all over again.

  “Oh, Thomas!” cried Charlotte. “Quick, quick … it’s Rosy. She’s gone into labor!”

  Thomas snatched Charlotte’s hand even tighter and the pair set off running toward the pig pen. The mud was thick and slippery as the rain poured down now, and they both threatened to end up face first in the mess if they weren’t more careful. Thomas unlatched the lock and found Rosy lying on her side, groaning and heaving, her body convulsing as each new contraction hit her harder and harder. Her eyes were half closed and her little, stubby legs twitched with the pain of it all.

  Charlotte gasped, dropping to her knees right beside Rosy’s head. She patted the pig slowly, gingerly even – not entirely sure how Rosy might react to her being so close. But the pig welcomed the reassuring gesture and rested her head on Charlotte’s lap, looking up at her, one woman to the other, connected on a level that no man might ever understand. “There, there … there’s a good girl. I know it hurts but you’re a brave pig and it’ll all be better soon.”

  Thomas moved further into the pen and held out his hand. “Stand back, Charlotte, this will get right messy from past experience. Let me help you up again.”

  “No, Thomas … she needs me right now.”

  “But you’re getting mud all over you. Let me take care of this.”

  “We’re going to be a family soon, Thomas, so we either learn to do things together or we don’t do them at all. Now, come and help down the other end … that part I’m certainly not touching.”