by Kit Morgan
Clayton shook his head and smiled at the thought as Spencer drove on.
They reached the house without incident and Spencer pulled up to the front porch. Their mother came running out, her face lit with pure delight, and went straight for them. “At last! Land sakes I thought you’d never get here!”
Spencer set the brake and hopped down. “Actually, we made excellent time. Clayton couldn’t wait to get home, could you Clayton?”
Clayton unwrapped his arm from around the now trembling woman at his side and glared at his brother. He then looked to her. “You okay? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
Her teeth began to chatter. “I … I’m …It’s just…”
He bent his head to hers, his voice low. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Miss James. How could you think I would …”
“Stop dawdling Clayton and let me see my new daughter in law!” His mother cried from the porch.
Clayton sighed. “She’s not your daughter in law yet, ma. She’s gotta heal up first.”
“All the more reason to get her off that dusty old pile of hay and bring her inside. It’s freezing out here! Hurry up now!”
“I’m sorry to be so much trouble, Mr. Riley,” Miss James said in a soft voice.
“Stop. I’ll hear none of it. You thought I was sending you back and did … well, I suppose you did what any woman would do. I guess if I was a woman I might wail like a coyote too.” Her eyes flashed at his words and for some reason he was glad he got a burr under her saddle. It sure beat seeing her all teary eyed and sniffling.
Before she could comment Spencer had climbed over the seat and into the wagon bed. Clayton scooted away from Miss James and hopped out. Spencer then carefully picked her up, blankets and all, and handed her down to him.
“I am sorry for the misunderstanding. It was my fault, I should have made myself more clear.” He told her again in a low voice as he headed for the porch where his mother waited.
She said nothing, only stared at him with those big blue eyes of hers, her body spent from her earlier bout of sobbing. She was limp in his arms, her head against his shoulder as he went up the porch steps and it was entirely his fault.
“Oh my word! What’s happened to the poor girl? You boys didn’t drive that team too fast did you? Why, she looks like someone beat her with a stick.”
Ouch! Their mother always did have a way with words, but did she have to put it that way?
“Bring her inside, Clayton! Hurry up now!” He followed his mother into the warm house, down the hall and into a small office they converted to a bedroom earlier that afternoon. Mrs. Charles Riley wasn’t about to risk further injury to her future daughter in law by having her stumble down the stairs with an injured foot!
“Set her on the bed, Clayton. That’s it, careful now…”
“She’s not going to break, ma.” Clayton told her in a tired voice. Now that he thought on it, he was tired. The last three days had been long and hard. Topping it off with a frightened woman who thought him to be one of the lowliest scumbags in the territory didn’t help. But he’d make it up to her, he just didn’t know how. Maybe Spencer could help, but then, it was Spencer that got him into this mess in the first place! Worse, he found out it was his mother’s idea to send away for a mail order bride!
“There now, that’s better isn’t it dear? You just stay right there while I go fix you a little snack before supper. I’m sure Doc and Milly didn’t fill you up with anything but soup while you were at their place!”
His mother turned and happily left the room. One would think Clayton had just given her a new toy! Perhaps after a day or two she’d calm down, but the more he thought on it, he didn’t think so. Sarah had left a void in his mother’s life too. She was the daughter his mother never had and suffered the loss when she died just as hard as everyone else.
But this wasn’t Sarah on the bed staring up at him with her jaw set now in pure determination. In fact, the woman’s look was so determined he began to worry what sort of thoughts she had going on in that pretty little head of hers.
“I’ll go get your bag,” he told her and turned.
“Mr. Riley.” It was spoken as a definite statement, not an inquiry.
“Yes?” he asked without turning around.
“Thank you.”
Now he did turn. “For what?”
“For not sending me away. I promise I’ll make you a good wife.”
Her words were spoken in an even tone, void of emotion. Where was the wailing, sobbing, frightened little thing that threatened to tear his heart out? He once again turned to the doorway. “I’m sure you will.”
And with that, he left the room.
* * *
“Here you are, some nice molasses cookies! Made them this morning I did! I hope you like them!” Mrs. Riley set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk down on a desk that was next to the small bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable in here until you can sleep up in Clayton’s room. This used to be my husband’s office. The boys use it now of course but I thought it would serve you best for the time being.”
Summer couldn’t help the blush that crept into her cheeks when Mrs. Riley mentioned Clayton’s room. But where else would she be sleeping once they were married? She pushed the thought aside and took in the woman standing before her.
She had bright blue eyes that sparkled and possessed what must have once been a glorious head of blonde hair. Now heavily streaked with grey, she wore it loosely piled on top of her head and Summer wondered how long it was. Mrs. Riley also had a generous build but wasn’t fat, and there was a pleasant smell about her, as if she’d been baking cookies outside the house rather than inside.
Where as Summer had been given her name because she was born on the first day of said season and left on Winslow’s doorstep, she thought Mrs. Riley could have been named for Spring. She had a pleasant lilt to her voice and her eyes lit up and sparkled like raindrops in sunshine. Everything about her said fresh and new and Summer could tell by the animated way the woman talked that she was full of life.
Summer’s eyes darted about the room. Who wouldn’t be full of life and love in a house like this? Everything was neat and orderly - pristine was a good word - yet so homey and warm. She looked back to Mrs. Riley. “Thank you for allowing me to stay here.”
Mrs. Riley looked at her in shock. “My dear sweet child, you’re gong to live here! You don’t have to thank me for it! If any one thank Spence …oh, silly me, I’m forever getting those two boys mixed up. Thank Clayton for bringing you out here.”
Summer blinked a few times. How could she get her sons mixed up with something like marriage? Didn’t she know which one of them sent away for a mail order bride?
“Oh but you must be tired! I’ll leave you to rest then have Clayton bring you to the table when supper is ready.”
Summer smiled and nodded, her eyes heavy. The incident in town had drained all her strength and it was hitting her hard now that she knew she was to be alone for a time. “Thank you, Mrs. Riley. I think I will rest awhile.”
“You do that dear, I’ll send Clayton just as soon as it’s time to eat.” She backed out of the room and closed the door.
Summer let go a long, weary sigh. What must her future husband think of her now what with the way she’d carried on? What indeed? As she recalled, he compared her to a wailing coyote! But she supposed they could have gotten off to a much rougher start …
Rougher start my foot! Literally! The man shot you as soon as you got off the stage!
Oh, yes, there was that. But the alternative to having her future husband accidently shoot her, fail to tell her of his plans not to send her away, and of course let her make a fool of herself in front of everyone (okay, so maybe she did that on her own) was to live as a slave in a world where men dominated and women were bought and sold like cattle. New Orleans had been a den of slavery for decades and would probably continue to be unless someone put a stop to it. In the mean time people like Mrs.
Ridgley and Mrs. Teeters did whatever they could to ensure at least some women got out before they were snatched up and put into the waiting chains of guilt and shame.
Summer closed her eyes and waited for the throbbing in her foot to subside before she tried to move into a more comfortable position to rest. She looked up at the decorative light hanging from the ceiling before examining the rest of the room. Her eyes finally landed on the cookies next to the bed. She reached for one, then the glass of milk. She took a tiny bite and thought her mouth was going to explode with pleasure! It was delicious! The milk too was incredibly good! For one it wasn’t sour as it often was by the time they got it at Winslow. Tears sprang to her eyes as she sat there on the tiny bed, a cookie and a glass of milk in her hands, and realized she’d never had such a simple pleasure in her entire life.
Summer again looked to the ceiling above her head and whispered, “Thank you, thank you for bringing me here. Please show me how to be a good wife to Mr. Riley because I don’t know the first thing about it.”
She lowered her eyes and stared at the cookie in her hand. “But I can learn. I can learn everything I need to know to make a good wife. Please help me to do so!”
Summer didn’t want to feel defeated. She’d made it this far and was now determined to be the best wife she could be for Clayton Riley. But would her best be good enough? She began to tick off a mental checklist of her gifts and talents. She could mend a little at least. The orphans at Winslow didn’t have fancy clothes and were constantly tearing the threadbare clothes they did have. She’d noticed how threadbare Clayton’s shirts were in places. Did he not have money enough to buy new ones? She made a mental note of it. She could of course keep a house clean, any idiot could do that. She knew how to make a few things like oatmeal and soup. Winslow wasn’t known for its fancy food that was for certain, so she hadn’t learned to make much else other than sandwiches. Let’s see, what else did a wife do?
Summer audibly gulped when she suddenly remembered exactly what else a wife did! Oh, that! Yes, well, she certainly didn’t have any experience in that department! What if he was disappointed in her? She knew absolutely nothing of… of… oh drat! That was certainly something she wouldn’t be able to learn before hand either!
Summer sighed, finished her cookie and milk, then laid her head against the pillow. In moments she forgot all her worries and troubles for the time being as sleep quickly overcame her. She wanted to dream of being a good wife, she wanted to dream of being someone special in Clayton Riley’s eyes. Instead, she had only nightmares.
Six
She screamed.
Clayton threw the silverware onto the table he was setting and ran for the study. He nearly knocked his mother off her feet as she came running from the kitchen. “I’ll handle this,” he told her before he burst into the room.
Miss James was sitting up in bed, her face bathed in sweat, her eyes wide as she shook with terror. Clayton didn’t think at first, he only reacted. “Miss James!” He said as he went to the bed and took her into his arms. “What happened?” He instinctively scanned the room for anything amiss, but there was nothing. “We heard you scream,” he said, his voice even, controlled. The lawman was back.
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, then quickly turned her face away. Good Lord! What had she been dreaming? It was the only explanation. He certainly hoped whatever sort of nightmare she’d just had wasn’t because of him!
“It’s … it’s nothing. I’m all right. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
He tucked a finger under her chin and made her look at him again. “Nothing? That scream wasn’t about nothing!” he told her firmly.
She tried to look away again but he held her fast. “Please,” she began. “Just leave me. I’ll be fine.”
He turned toward the door. His mother was still standing in it. “Ma, I’ll bring her to the supper table but give us a few moments, will you?”
Mrs. Riley looked them both over carefully before she nodded her agreement and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Clayton turned back to the woman in his arms. “You know if we’re going to be man and wife then you’re going to have to talk to me about things.”
Her eyes, which had been glued to the desk beside the bed, slowly found their way to his. She swallowed hard and he could not only see, but felt the tension in her jaw. “Things?” She said in a low voice.
“Yep, things. Like why you left New Orleans in such a hurry. I may not be an expert at this mail order bride business, but even I know what you did had to have been done pretty quick like.”
She closed her eyes and he could tell by the sudden pink of her cheeks she was hiding something. “Well?” He began in a soft voice. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re so gosh darn scared right now?”
Her eyes opened and she looked straight into his. There was such vulnerability harbored in them, a hopelessness mixed with, of all things, hope. As if he were that hope. What could have possibly happened to her? “Whatever it is,” he began. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”
Her eyes widened.
“I understand that some women use a mail order bride service because they’re … well they’re running from something. You … you haven’t gone and broke the law now have ya? I’d hate to be the one to have to haul you in. How would that look to folks?”
Her face drained of color and her jaw was once again tight.
He’d better think of something fast. “Besides, no one want’s to eat wedding cake in a jail! I can hear the old biddies in town complaining already!”
A tiny smile curved her mouth. Clayton stared at it a moment … her sweet, delicious, little mouth. Now he had to swallow and didn’t wonder if his face had drained of color. Good Lord but she was beautiful! It seemed as though every time he looked at her he saw more and more of the beauty she possessed.
“It’s not what you think,” she said. “I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Well that’s good to hear!” And he had to admit, he was glad she said it. Though it wasn’t enough to satisfy him and he still planned to check a few things. For now he wouldn’t question her further. His mother was waiting for them and Spencer would be coming in from the barn at any moment. But later they would finish this conversation and he was going to find out what happened to her if it was the last thing he did. He wasn’t about to head into any sort of marriage until he got to the bottom of it. “You ready for supper, Miss James?”
She looked up at him and without saying a word, nodded.
“All right then, hang on to me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up from the bed and stood. He then carried her into supper.
* * *
Summer sat in silence as the rest of the Riley family seated themselves around the table. Clayton said the blessing and soon the meal was underway. No one spoke for a few moments as the food was passed and each of them served themselves. She was a little surprised when Clayton, instead of passing the small platter of pot roast to her, served her himself. He then without saying a word, cut her meat for her as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. She watched as his brother Spencer did the same for their mother. She’d never seen such a thing and had to consciously close her mouth when it began to hang open.
“Miss James,” Mrs. Riley began. “Oh but what am I doing calling you that? You’re going to be my daughter in law after all! Now Summer, about your wedding dress, I understand you haven’t a thing to wear.”
“Ma, can’t that wait? She’s in no shape for marrying yet.” Clayton was quick to interject.
“I know that dear, but making a dress takes time, and we have to get started right away! By the time I’m done making it her foot should be good enough to stand on.”
Summer’s eyes darted back and forth between mother and son.
“Abbey Davis will help.” Spencer said between mouthfuls. “You know how she likes to sew all that fancy stuff.”
“Yes, but her mother … w
ell … you know how she gives me a headache!” Mrs. Riley lamented. “I can’t work like that and besides Abbey will talk poor Summer’s ears off!”
Summer stopped chewing all together. She was hoping to be able to enjoy the meal (which was fabulous so far) and not have to talk, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. She peeked sideways at Clayton who looked like he was equally hoping to get through the meal in peace but …
“Ma! No more talk of dresses, wedding cakes, or flowers while we’re eating.”
Mrs. Riley’s eyes lit up. “Oh I completely forgot about the cake! Why thank you Clayton. Be sure to stop by the Anderson’s on your way to the jail tomorrow morning and see if Mrs. Anderson wouldn’t mind handling the baking. She’s so much better at decorating a cake than I am.”
Clayton’s mouth hung open as he looked at his mother. “Stop,” was the only word to escape him before he took another bit of his dinner.
“But…” she began.
“No! No more! Besides, let Miss James decide on these things, it is her wedding after all, not to mention mine.”
Summer chewed slowly. My but the mashed potatoes were good! She never had anything so good at Winslow!
“Yes, I know that dear,” Mrs. Riley began. “But I figured, what with her injury and all, that she’d not want to have to think about the details. I was just trying to help.”
Summer took another bit of pot roast and continued to watch. Maybe if she were quiet enough no one would actually talk to her. They’d just keep talking about her.
“I know, ma. But … I’ve had a rough few days, and … well I’m not much up to talking about any of it right now. Besides, who knows when the wedding will be.”
Summer’s mouth stilled as a chill went through her body. Had he changed his mind? Was he not going to set a time for their wedding because he thought she might be lying to him about never being in trouble with the law? How could she tell him about the horrors of leaving Winslow? What would he think of her? But what did a small time Sheriff know of the evils of a city like New Orleans? What would he think of the life that awaited her if she went back? How easy it was for one of her lot to be forced into such a shameful state of being?