The Wrong Bride: A Christmas Mail Order Bride Romance (Brides and Twins Book 3)

by Natalie Dean

  Agatha, unsure if she could take another moment in Mrs. Matthews overwhelming presence, opened her mouth to politely decline this offer. Before she could, Elijah caught her eye and, with another understanding smile, stood from his seat.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Matthews, but we wouldn’t want to put you out anymore than we already have. I can show Agatha to her room.”

  Luckily, Mrs. Matthews gave them an understanding smile and nodded.

  “Well, I suppose you two will need some time alone together,” she said. “Dinner will be at six o’clock, Miss Thorne. I’m sure you’ll want to rest before then.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Matthews,” Agatha said quietly. She tried to give the old woman a smile but, once again was not certain she had managed it.

  A moment later, Elijah took hold of her arm and began to lead her down a small hallway with doors on either side.

  “I do hope your introduction to our little town wasn’t too off-putting,” Elijah said. “Mrs. Matthews means well. But, she also tends to speak her mind with no regard for her audience.”

  “I suppose it’s good that she is so concerned for the people in town,” Agatha said. “The way she speaks about the young men, you would think they were all her sons.”

  “I suppose they are, in a way,” he said. “Mrs. Matthews never had sons. She did have two daughters who married and left home several years ago. Now, I suppose she seeks out people who she thinks need mothering.”

  Agatha nodded. Wondering, once again, what Mrs. Matthews would think if she truly knew the sort of woman her beloved pastor was about to marry.

  The anxiety that accompanied her thoughts must have shown on her face. When they stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway, Elijah was, once again, looking at her with concern.

  “Agatha,” he said. “Are you certain everything is alright?”

  “Yes,” Agatha said trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. “I just need some sleep, I suppose. It was difficult to rest in the carriage.”

  Though he nodded at her explanation, the concern remained shining in his gray eyes. She could tell that he did not quite believe her.

  “I suppose I will see you at dinner then,” he said. Agatha gave him the most genuine smile she could and turned to open her door. Just as she did, he touched her arm once more.

  “Agatha,” he said, causing her to turn around. When she did, the quiet, confident humor had been replaced by the slight anxiety she had seen in Elijah on the road outside the hotel. The pleasant flip returned to her stomach.

  “I meant what I said in my last letter,” he told her. “I will do everything I can to make sure you are happy here.”

  With that, he took her hand in his and raised her knuckles to his lips. His eyes never leaving hers, he placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her hand.

  Agatha stared at him, feeling as though she should say something. But, the anxiety mixed with her rapidly beating heart and the pleasant flipping sensation in her stomach was making it impossible for her to speak.

  Elijah didn’t seem to expect an answer.

  He let go of her hand, and with a small smile and nod, he turned and made his way down the hallway.

  Agatha watched him go, praying to God that this good, kind, honest man would never learn just what sort of tainted woman he had agreed to marry.

  Chapter 4

  “There’s no sheriff in Laramie?” Agatha asked Mrs. Matthews again, surprised the first time by the answer the older woman had given.

  Agatha had been in Laramie all of three days now. There were only four more until the wedding was set to take place. So far, what Mrs. Matthews said had proven to be true, for the most part. Laramie was a peaceful town.

  Early that morning, however, Mrs. Matthews thoughts about the saloon had also proved true. At around midnight, a fight over a girl had broken out at the bar. The injured now crammed the parlor of the hotel. Agatha had been asleep when Mrs. Matthews knocked on her door asking for help.

  Now, she helped the landlady gather clean washcloths and old bandages while Elijah and the town doctor, Doctor Smith, tended to the wounded.

  “There’s never been a need for one. At least there wasn’t before that place opened,” Mrs. Matthews said putting a spiteful emphasis on ‘that place’ as she pushed several more washcloths into Agatha’s overburdened arms.

  “You mean there’s never been a crime here?” she asked. “No…disputes even?”

  “If there were, we were always able to manage amongst ourselves,” Mrs. Matthews said. “Clearly that won’t be enough now. We’ll need a lawman here.”

  “You mean someone will have to run for sheriff?” Agatha asked.

  “It looks that way,” Mrs. Matthews said with a sigh as she led Agatha out towards the parlor. “Though it’s going to be a difficult job finding someone competent among our boys. There are some fine young men in our town no question. But, most are young and inexperienced. The ones who are old enough, like your fiancé, is too burdened with their own work to take on more. And the others…well.”

  “What about the others?” Agatha asked curiously.

  “Well, let’s just say there were some unscrupulous types even in a nice town like this before that saloon went up,” Mrs. Matthews said, her voice lowering to a whisper as though afraid the walls could hear her.

  The tone made Agatha want to ask what Mrs. Matthews meant by that. But, before she got the chance, they entered the parlor, and Mrs. Matthews shooed her over to a patient Elijah was seeing to.

  Agatha’s fiancé was currently bent over a young man with bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a stocky build.

  “Is he, all right?” Agatha asked dipping one of the clean cloths in the water bowl and handing it to Elijah.

  “Oh, Sam here’ll be fine,” Elijah said reassuringly, wiping the cloth over a scratch above the young man’s eye. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”

  “Not to mention a splitting headache,” the young man, Sam, groaned from his spot on the floor. Elijah gave his familiar warm chuckle.

  “That has more to do with the drinking than the fight,” Elijah said. “Rest a day and you’ll probably be back to normal. We’ll call the doctor over to give you a clean bill of health. Then you can go.”

  It was much the same with the other patients Elijah and Agatha tended to. Luckily the fight involved fists only. No knives or guns. Agatha kept a steady supply of bandages and clean cloths available as Elijah and the doctor wiped cuts and bandaged sprains.

  By the time the sun rose, almost all the men had been sent home to sleep off their drinks. Only one remained slumped over on the couch. His long, dark hair had fallen over his face hiding it from view. But, even with the partial view of him, Agatha could see that this boy was worse off than the rest had been.

  “He’ll have to stay for a day at least,” Doctor Smith said. “He’s had a concussion. Best not to move him.”

  “He’s one of the guests who came in on the last carriage,” Mrs. Matthews said. “He has a room here as it is. I can move him there.”

  “Don’t bother Mrs. Matthews,” Elijah said gently. “You’ve done plenty for one night. The doctor and I will take him.”

  Mrs. Matthews, to Agatha’s surprise, did not protest but gave a tired nod. The woman’s face looked more pale and drawn tonight than it usually did.

  “Mrs. Matthews,” Agatha said gently moving over to the landlady. “Why don’t you go get some rest. Elijah and I will clean up.”

  Agatha looked to her fiancé. His slight nod signaled his silent consent to this plan.

  “Oh, I couldn’t put you out like that,” Mrs. Matthews said.

  “Nonsense,” Agatha insisted. “It’ll be good practice for me. I’ll have to learn to cook breakfast after a night of nursing fight victims if I’m to be a pastor’s wife.”

  “That you will,” Elijah said, meeting her eyes with a smile. She returned it much more confidently now than she had three days before. Though the pleasant flipping sen
sation in her chest remained.

  A moment later, Elijah and the doctor lifted their patient from the couch. His hair fell away from his face, and the pleasant flipping sensation was replaced by an anxiety filled thud in her heart.

  It couldn’t be.

  What was he doing all the way out here? How had he found her?

  Just as she took a deep breath, trying desperately to compose herself, the boy’s eyes opened.

  Those brown eyes, more than a little bloodshot, looked straight at her.

  “You,” the boy whispered. “I know you.”

  “What did he say?” Elijah asked looking from Agatha to the boy, eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “He won’t make sense for a bit, I’m afraid,” the doctor said. “That’s common after a hit to the head. Best get him to his room.”

  The doctor slung the boy’s arm over his shoulder and Elijah hesitantly did the same. Both he and the dark-haired boy turned and gave Agatha one last look before disappearing down the hallway.

  With a deep breath, heart still beating wildly in her chest, Agatha led Mrs. Matthews back to her room.

  “Do you know that boy, Agatha?” Mrs. Matthews asked, not sounding nearly as tired now that the prospect of new gossip was on the horizon.

  “I do not believe so,” Agatha said, a guilty knot forming in her stomach. “It’s possible he thought I was someone else.”

  “I suppose so,” Mrs. Matthews said reluctantly. “And, he did hit his head hard, poor boy.”

  Agatha was more than glad when they reached Mrs. Matthews room behind the kitchen, and she said good night without any more questions being asked.

  But, as she headed into the kitchen and absent-mindedly gathered the eggs in the pantry for breakfast, she knew that would not be the end of this. Elijah would not be as easily appeased as a tired Mrs. Matthews had been.

  Just as she was trying to think of some story, some possible explanation for the boy’s recognition of her, the kitchen door opened and Elijah stepped in.

  “Well, the last of our patients has been put to bed,” Elijah said. “I sent Doctor Smith off too. He looked nearly as tired as Mrs. Matthews did. And, given the number of guests involved in the fight, we won’t have a full table for breakfast. Five of us at most, I’d say.”

  “That’s a relief,” Agatha said gathering the pans and determinately not looking at Elijah.

  As she put a pan on the stove, he stepped up beside her and began cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “After breakfast, I thought we might take a ride out to the Dixon’s farm,” Elijah said. “You’ve not met them yet. And I have a feeling you and Mrs. Dixon will get along well. That is, if you’re not too tired.”

  “No, I’m not too tired,” Agatha said. “That sounds lovely. After last night, it might be nice to get out of town for a bit.”

  He smiled at her as he cracked another egg into the bowl.

  For half a moment, she thought that, maybe, he wouldn’t ask her about what had happened in the parlor at all.

  Maybe he would take the doctor’s word that the boy had simply suffered a great injury and did not know what he was saying.

  But, Agatha already knew Elijah too well for that. He spoke about difficult subjects gently, but he always talked about them. And, she knew he would talk about this. It was only a question of when.

  The ‘when’ came a short while later, after the eggs were cracked, cooked and Agatha had begun pushing them onto plates for the guests.

  “Agatha,” he said gently. “I know that boy in the parlor suffered a head injury. But, it seemed as though…he sounded as though he knew you.”

  “I don’t know how he could have,” she said, her cheeks growing warm all the same. “I didn’t recognize him.”

  Even as she turned her back on him and busied herself with the plates, she could feel his gaze on her. She’d never been particularly good at lying. And, in the three days she’d spent with him, she’d learned that Elijah had a particularly fine-tuned talent of seeing right through her.

  All the same, she told herself to breath and keep as steady as possible. This was one secret she would not, could not, let Elijah know.

  “Agatha,” he said after a moment’s silence. “If there’s something you’re afraid to tell me, you shouldn’t be. I won’t judge you for anything you did before we met.”

  His voice sounded so sincere that she almost wanted to turn to him. She almost gave in and told him everything. About the boy on the bed about what had happened in New York.

  But then she reminded herself that it wasn’t only his judgment she was afraid of.

  Elijah was the pastor of a small town, a very close knit community. If anyone in his flock knew who she really was…

  No. If she were to live safely, happily here, she would have to keep her silence.

  So, putting on the most genuine smile she could, she turned to him.

  “I know you wouldn’t judge me,” she said. “And, if there were something you truly needed to know, I would not hesitate to tell you. But, there isn’t. I’ve told you all there is to know about me already.”

  He looked at her seriously for one moment. For that terrible moment, Agatha dreaded that her lie had not worked. That he would see through her and know instinctively what it was she was keeping from him.

  The moment passed however, and he smiled back at her.

  “You’d best wake the guests,” he said. “I’ll set the table.”

  Her eyes followed him as he took the plates out to the kitchen. A strange mix of emotions filled her.

  Relief that her secret could still be kept a bit longer. Fear that, with that new guest in town, it would not be kept much longer than that.

  Chapter 5

  Elijah Rhodes looked sideways at his future bride in the small wooden wagon as they traveled back from the Dixon’s farm. She was smiling gently and twisting a piece of her long, curled brown hair around her finger.

  He knew both to be good signs when it came to Agatha. In the few days he had known her, he’d come to realize that true smiles, ones that were not forced or shy were rare. And it was even more rare to catch her smiling when she was not speaking to someone.

  She had not smiled at all on the road to the Dixon’s farm. Nor had she smiled or spoken much at all at breakfast. Though she denied it, Elijah knew something about that encounter with the injured young man had shaken her.

  He knew that he would have to find out what it was that had her so terrified. What it was that she was not telling him.

  But, when he glanced over at her again, her smile had widened, and she had now begun to hum a tuneless sort of song. It was clear she was happy. He couldn’t bear to see the smile fade from her face quite yet. And he knew it would the moment he asked again about her past.

  “I was glad to see you and Mrs. Jacobs getting along so well,” he said instead. She turned to him, and his heart fluttered a bit in his chest when her smile remained, and those green eyes sparkled up at him.

  “It was nice to speak to someone who knows what it’s like to move out here alone,” she said. “Someone who has been in my position before.”

  “I thought it might be,” he said. “And it always does me a bit of good to get out of town. Into the open country.”

  Agatha gave a small giggle that made Elijah’s heart lift even further.

  “It seems the whole world is open country here,” she said. “Before coming here, I didn’t know there was so much green in the world.”

  “Come to think of it, I guess Wyoming is a bit greener than you might be used to,” he said. “In spring and summer at least. But, just wait until winter. The whole place will be covered in snow for months.”

  “We got plenty of that in New York,” Agatha said. “Though, it didn’t stop the factories from running. My mother used to make me put on piles of clothes before I headed out for work in the morning. I was so heavy by the time I left our home that I was afraid I would topple over.”

  Elijah l
aughed at the image as they reached the edge of town.

  “Mothers are known to be overprotective, I suppose,” he said.

  “Mine certainly was,” Agatha replied. “I don’t know what she would say if she knew I’d gone west all alone to meet a man I’d never met.”

  The smile faded from her face and Elijah was more than sorry to see it go. He knew Agatha’s mother had died two years before, but, that was the most Agatha had ever said about her, either in letters or in person.

  “You don’t think she would have approved?” Elijah asked carefully. Agatha shrugged, turning away from him. Her finger was still circling her hair.

  “She knew I could take care of myself,” Agatha said. “But, she would not have liked the idea of me moving so far away from her. I was her only child, and we were…very close.”

  Elijah could see a small cloud come over Agatha’s face, and he had the desperate urge to bring her smile back.

  “I was my mother’s only child too, you know,” he said. “But, when I went to seminary, I think she was more than happy to be rid of me. I caused no end of trouble in my younger days.”

  Agatha turned to him wide-eyed, with an interested smirk on her face.

  “I cannot picture you as being a troublemaker,” she said. “Even as a child.”

  “Oh, but I was,” Elijah answered with a chuckle. “My most infamous prank was when I painted all the sheep on our neighbor’s farm green. His son had teased me about my books in school, and I wanted to get back at him. Then there was the time I doused the school teacher with cold water from the creek. Though, that was my friend, Billy Thornton’s idea, not mine…”

  Humorous stories about his childhood carried them from the road back to the hotel. When they arrived, the ghost of a smile had returned to her face.

  When he touched her hand to help her out of the wagon, the warmth and weight of her skin on his, the small smile on her face almost made him forget what he would have to ask her. For a moment, he thought that, whatever had happened with that boy, it might be best to leave it be.