Martha (The Marriage Market Book 5)

by Stevie MacFarlane

  It was ridiculous to allow these thoughts to persist, she knew that. Ethan loved her, protected her and would never hurt her intentionally, but what if he became overcome with passion?

  Ellie was no virgin. One night she’d quietly told them what happened to her back home when her beau took her for a moonlight walk. Before she knew what he was about, he began kissing and groping her. Overcome, he’d thrown her to the ground, tossing up her skirts and having his way despite how she struggled. As soon as it was over he took her home. The next morning, she found out he’d left town in a hurry.

  Anxiously, she’d waited for her monthly flow to come. It was late, but it finally arrived and after that she answered Hugh’s advertisement. She had to get away. Find someplace where no one knew her or asked painful questions regarding the man who’d courted her for nearly two years before suddenly disappearing. Ellie hated being whispered about and hated it more that she’d been taken in such a brutal way without her consent, yet could not tell. As she put it, nothing Mr. Ferguson would do to her on her wedding night could be worse than what she’d already endured. In fact, after talking to Amelia, Grace and Effie she was looking forward to experiencing passion for the first time.

  Martha was almost jealous, which she knew was a frightful way to feel. Ellie had been through hell and deserved to find happiness. Now Clara had apparently done the deed. Mary was also likely wedded and bedded by now.

  No, she was the last. The last bride, the last virgin and she was scared to death.

  The crack of thunder had her jumping off the bed and picking up the valise. Most likely she would get drenched riding into town, but a promise was a promise and it was nobody’s fault but her own. She shouldn’t have sat around fretting and feeling sorry for herself when there was nothing to be done about it anyway. Very soon she would marry Ethan and she could only pray she found the marriage bed tolerable.

  “Thank goodness,” Clara said when Martha arrived, using the back stairway of the saloon. “I feel frightfully naked, and Lucas has refused to return my clothes,” she snapped angrily. “Imagine a man behaving like that,” she continued, shaking her head as she took her bag from Martha and began to unpack her things.

  “Why won’t he give you back your clothes?” Martha asked.

  “He said he prefers me this way and if he had his way I would be entirely naked,” Clara hissed, her face turning pink. “The man is a barbarian!”

  “Apparently so,” Martha agreed sympathetically. “Are you sure about this, Clara? We could sneak out the back.”

  “No, he would only come after me and besides, I’m the perfect example of the old adage, you’ve made your bed, now you must lie in it,” she huffed, pointing at the bed. “Oh why did I drink that darn wine?”

  “I don’t know,” Martha replied. “Why did you?”

  “I guess I was hoping to get a rise out of him,” Clara admitted, sinking onto the bed. “I was waiting for him to lecture me about the evils of drink so I could turn the tables on him, but he never really objected. It was most annoying and I kept drinking, still hoping for a public confrontation I was sure I could win. Unfortunately, the only thing that happened was me becoming intoxicated,” she huffed with a frown. “Now I’ve been forced to marry him, thereby proving my theory that drink leads to ruin. I just didn’t expect it to lead to mine,” she sighed sadly.

  “Oh, my dear, I wish there was some way I could help,” Martha said as she patted Clara’s shoulder.

  “Well, there isn’t. I’ve gotten myself into this mess, and as far as I can see, there is no way out. But I will tell you one thing, if my new husband thinks he’s heard the end of my views on temperance, he’s very much mistaken. I’m going to do everything I can to shut this place down!”

  “Do you think that’s wise? I mean it seems to be his only source of income and he must have a way to support you. Where would you live if he gives up the saloon?”

  “I have no idea. Frankly he could always go to work for the Jordons and build a small cabin on the mountain. In any case, I’ll have at least a month to work on him. Right after your wedding, and only because I insisted I would not miss it, we’re leaving for Texas. His brother is getting married and his whole family is gathering at his parents’ ranch.”

  “How long did you say you’d be gone?”

  “At least a month, I imagine. We’ve been arguing off and on all day about whether he’ll close this place down while we’re gone. Without Lucas here to keep things in check, I’ll worry about you and your shop the entire time we’re gone. It’s only fair and I’ve suggested it would be a very nice wedding gift to me, and assure me of his sincerity about wanting me to be happy.”

  “Has he agreed?”

  “I believe so. I’m so sorry I won’t be around to help you prepare and open the dress shop, but having The Bucket closed should at least give you a chance to entice the ladies of Seattle into seeing what you have to offer. Once they realize what a fabulous seamstress you are, as well as see some of your own designs, they’ll be hard pressed not to return,” Clara assured her, patting her hand.

  “Clara, would it bother you if I and the others made a few little changes to this place while you and Lucas are away?” Martha asked quietly.

  “What sort of changes?” Clara whispered back.

  “I’m not sure what Effie has in mind, not exactly anyway, but I suspect they will be significant. She’s quite put out with the way Lucas orchestrated your marriage and is whisking you away.”

  “She’s not the only one,” Clara replied with a wicked grin. “You tell Effie she has my permission to make any changes she’d like. I don’t see how you can make a place called The Bucket of Blood any worse. I only wish I could be here to see it take place,” she sighed. “But in my absence, she has complete freedom. The living quarters could use a little sprucing up as well,” she continued, looking around at the massive bed and heavy drapes. “It’s positively gloomy.”

  “I’ll pass that on to Effie,” Martha promised. “Sorry I have to rush off, but it’s getting dark and there’s sure to be a downpour any minute. Ethan is stopping by tonight to finalize some of the wedding details and he’ll be a bear if I’m not there.”

  “Goodness, hurry along then,” Clara urged. “I’ve um… heard Ethan when he’s unhappy with you and wouldn’t want him to feel the need to repeat it, especially if some of the blame lies with my actions. Thank you for bringing some of my things, Martha. I’m sure I’ll be along in a day or two to pick up the remainder.”

  “I’ll go on home then. Please send word if you need me, and I’ll see you at the wedding if not before,” she promised, kissing Clara’s cheek.

  “You’re the last bride, aren’t you?” Clara asked, tipping her head to one side.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I am,” Martha admitted.

  “Funny, I always thought you’d be the first,” she murmured as Martha closed the door behind her.

  Chapter 16

  Martha judged it correctly. Apparently she’d been in Seattle long enough to know when a storm was brewing. She only wished she could quiet the one that seemed to be growing inside her.

  The small canopy offered scant protection and it wasn’t long before her skirts became sodden with rainwater. Shivering, she negotiated the muddy road careful to avoid the biggest ruts. Before long she was muttering words that would have made Effie proud. Cold, tired and hungry, she almost wished Ethan wasn’t coming tonight. She was not in the best of moods and all she wanted was a warm bath, a bite of something to eat as she realized she hadn’t eaten all day and to crawl into bed. There were few days in her lackluster life she would ever want to repeat, and this was not one of them.

  As though she’d conjured him, a lone rider appeared, moving toward her when she was about a mile or so from the house. She knew right away it was Ethan. Not many men sat so high in the saddle. Pulling on the reins, she slowed the carriage to a stop, waiting.

  “Martha, what are you doing out in this weather?�
�� he called over the sound of the rain. “You will become ill and the wedding is only a few days away.”

  “Oh, Ethan, don’t scold me,” she shouted back. “I’ve had a terrible day and I just want to get home.”

  “Ya, I understand,” he replied, dismounting. “I will drive you.” Tying his horse to the back of the carriage, he climbed in as she scooted over, claiming another cold section of seat that had her shaking.

  “I have just come from the house. Where is everyone? It is deserted,” he remarked, clicking the reins and setting them in motion.

  “When I tell you all that’s happened today, you’ll think I’m making it up,” Martha said, shaking her head. “Jane up and married Dr. Martin last night. Your friend, Lucas Armstrong managed to force Clara into marrying him this morning,” she said accusingly. “What a sorry state of affairs that was, with poor Clara getting married in a bed sheet!

  “Mary ran off with Tempest’s chef, Andre, and Mrs. Jordon is not at all happy about it. It seems they intend to open a French restaurant in San Francisco and in his letter he’s sworn to wed Mary at the first opportunity. I hope he’s sincere.

  “Mr. Ferguson has carted Ellie off to Portland, purportedly to keep her out of trouble and to make sure she doesn’t get any more deeply involved in the temperance business.

  “And to make matters worse, there’s a suspicion Jane’s children may be traveling with Suzanna’s mother, a woman who may be a murderess! I don’t think anyone has been able to get word to Suzanna and Dalton.

  “Everything is in a horrible mess and I haven’t seen or spoken with Charlotte in days and fear she may be in trouble with Cole over the temperance business,” she continued tearfully, “and…”

  Suddenly she began to cry, great wracking sobs that shook her body.

  “Martha, Älskling,” Ethan said, wrapping an arm around her. “I can see it has been a trying day, but please do not cry. I will get you home, and once you are warm and dry, everything will not seem so bad,” he soothed as he clicked the reins. “My goodness, Lucas and Clara are married you say? And he forced her? How did he do this? I have always found him to be an honest man.”

  “Well he’s not,” she wailed. “He’s a snake in the grass and we’re going to get even with him.”

  “How are you going to do this?” Ethan asked, patting her shoulder. “No, do not tell me now. We are nearly there and need to get you inside out of the rain before you catch your death of cold. Hush now.”

  Moments later, they pulled in front of the house. Ethan set the brake and climbed down before lifting Martha from the carriage. He did not put her down. Instead he carried her, trudging up the muddy walkway and setting her down on the porch.

  “Go inside. I will tend to the horses and put the carriage away.”

  Martha was still sobbing into her handkerchief so he turned her toward the door and gave her a little nudge.

  “Go on now, Älskling. Mind me,” he ordered gently.

  He was pleased when she finally obeyed him and quickly tended to the animals before returning to the house. Scraping the mud from his boots took a bit, and he removed them entirely once he entered the house. He hung his wet coat on the hook nearest the fireplace and swiftly proceeded to get a fire going.

  Martha was sitting forlornly on a wooden chair and had not even removed her wet coat.

  “Let me help you,” he said, pulling her to her feet and whisking the coat from her shoulders. “You need to go upstairs and get out of those wet things,” he advised. She ignored him and resumed her seat.

  “Martha, did you not hear me?” he asked, stooping to look into her face.

  “I heard you,” she replied quietly, her hands folded in her lap.

  “Then why do you not move? Why are you sitting there with such an expression?”

  “I’m tired and hungry. I don’t feel like moving right now,” she replied with a woebegone tone.

  Sighing, Ethan scratched his head and stared at her. “Jane,” he yelled.

  “I told you, Jane married Dr. Martin last night,” she snapped. “There is no one here.”

  “No one at all?” he asked, looking around.

  “No.”

  “Then perhaps I should not be here. It is not proper for an unmarried woman to be alone with a man, even if he will be her husband in a few days. Go and change. I will leave when you return,” he ordered gently.

  “No.”

  “Martha, you must listen to me. I am only trying to protect you,” he insisted.

  “Ethan, no one is here. No one will come. It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

  “Fine, it does not matter,” he snapped back. “I have no wish to make your day worse than it has been, but you must get out of those wet things before you take a chill. Do you want to be ill for our wedding?”

  “I don’t care. We’ve put it off so many times now that I’m the last bride. What would another week or two matter?” she asked, wiping a tear.

  “No,” he scolded, scooping her into his arms. “We will not put it off, not again.” Marching toward the stairs, he took them two at a time with her in his arms. “Which is your room?” he asked when he reached the landing.

  “That one,” she replied, pointing down the hall.

  He carried her in the open door and placed her on her feet.

  “You will undress now.”

  “I most certainly will not,” she replied, taking a step backward.

  “You will. I have asked you several times to remove your wet things and you chose not to obey. Now I will insist. Undress or I will do it for you.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Martha, we have had this discussion before. You are once again acting like an obstinate child. Must I treat you as one? Would you like another spanking?”

  “Of course not,” she hissed.

  “Then do as I say,” he repeated.

  “All right,” she said, her fingers going to the buttons on her shirtwaist.

  “That is good,” he said, nodding with a small smile. “I will go downstairs and make something for us to eat.”

  “You can cook?” she asked in surprise.

  Ethan laughed. “Yes and very well too. My mama insisted we all learn. Come down when you are ready.”

  “All right,” she sighed in defeat.

  “And, Martha, there is no sense in getting dressed again. It is late and as you have said there is no one here but us. You may as well put on your nightclothes and a warm robe. I will not be staying long.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her to her toes and kissed her quite thoroughly before turning to leave the room.

  “I hope you’re not going to be a bossy husband,” she called after him.

  Stopping at the door he turned and looked at her. “I too have hopes, Marta,” he replied.

  “Put the ‘r’ back in my name, if you please,” she ordered, pulling the pins from her hair.

  “Martha,” he replied slowly, “I hope you are not going to be an obstinate wife.”

  He was halfway down the stairs when he heard her door slam shut.

  Ethan was just dishing up fried potatoes, ham and eggs when Martha walked into the kitchen. Expecting to find her primly clothed from top to bottom, despite his instructions, he was surprised to see her in her dark green robe and slippers. A bit of white lace showed at the top of the robe and he could only imagine the virginal gown beneath it.

  Her dark hair hung down her back, flowing naturally to her waist and he longed to set the skillet in his hands down and run his fingers through it. One of the things that first attracted him to her was the sense of maturity she normally projected. He had no use for childish females who expected the world to fall at their feet.

  No, he’d wanted a woman who would work alongside him to build their life together and raise their children. Looking at her now she seemed so very young, and small. Most women were small compared to his remarkable size. It was something he’d gotten used to over the years, but suddenly, with her flat l
ittle slippers and her hair down, she looked much smaller than normal. He wondered if she were worried about the consummation of their marriage.

  He’d sensed no real fear when he’d threatened to spank her earlier, even though she’d experienced it once already. Now, looking at the disparity in their sizes he thought it was a wonder she didn’t run screaming from the room. Thank goodness his boots were off or it would be even worse.

  “Sit down, Martha,” he offered, pulling out a chair at the table. “I will serve you tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she replied softly as he seated her.

  “Are you warm enough? I could leave the oven open.”

  “No, I’m much better now that I’m in dry things. I’m sorry I was so stubborn earlier.”

  “It is all right. I understand you have had an eventful day, and you did comply at the last minute,” he answered, grinning.

  “Was that really the last minute?” she asked, looking up at him as he took his own seat.

  “It was,” he replied honestly.

  “You would have spanked me?”

  “Yes, without a doubt,” he answered, cutting his meat. “I too have only so much patience. When it is something that has to do with your health, you will find I can be bossy. Were you frightened?” he asked, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Not really,” she admitted with a tiny smile. “For months I was terrified. Now that it’s happened, I know what to expect and it’s not quite so scary. Not that I want it repeated, of course, but it won’t have me running for the hills.”

  “That is good. I never want to frighten you, or hurt you Älskling. I only want to know that I can trust you to obey me when it is important,” he said sincerely as he held her gaze.