by Diane Darcy
“Well, I’ve seen this condition before, and the most we can hope for is more lucid times than not. There’s no reason not to humor Mrs. Buchanan.”
Grumbling, the other woman left.
She could see she was going to have a hard time establishing her place in this household, but she was up for the task. She’d start as she meant to go on. Small wonder Mr. Buchanan sent for a bride. While she was glad to have shed that role, being a governess in his household wasn’t going to be a piece of cake, either.
~~~
Thomas tried to concentrate on work. The Winchester wasn’t going to fix itself. Through the red curtain, he could hear Franklin Ford, friend and business partner, talking to a customer up front.
A few minutes later Franklin sank into his chair and went back to work cleaning the Remington he’d replaced the barrel and cylinder on. Harry Robbins would be picking it up later this afternoon.
“So, I guess I’m going to have to bring it up since you aren’t willing to share. What’s up with the new girl at your house? I heard you picked her up at the train station yesterday.”
Thomas ignored him. “Who was at the counter?”
“Neddie Morris. He fancies himself a fast gun, and needed some bullets for practice. He says he’s saving up for a Colt 1877 because he heard that’s what Billy the Kid used.”
“I thought he used a Colt Single Action Army?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. What about the girl?”
“What about her?”
Franklin rolled his eyes. “Seriously, you’re going to make me beat it out of you?”
Thomas laughed. It was a common threat, but one without teeth. Franklin was big, but slower than molasses, and the only time he’d ever bested Thomas in a fight was when he’d tripped over a log and hit his head on a rock when they were fifteen.
Thomas shrugged. “I sent away for a mail-order bride.”
“You did what?”
“I needed help.”
“So, what? Did you get married yesterday? You didn’t need a best man?”
Thomas kept working on the rifle. He shrugged. “No. I didn’t marry the lady. She wasn’t what I was looking for, after all.”
Franklin didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally he took a breath. “You know, a lot of ladies willing to marry a stranger like that might not be the best looking girls around, but…”
“Stop with the softhearted sympathy. She’s very pretty.”
Another pause. “Fat? Because some men —”
“No. She’s slender.” Slender, shapely, supple. And those gently flaring hips. He dropped the corn cob grip he was trying to assemble.
“She’s lovely, she’s slender. Does she have a hunchback?”
Thomas couldn’t help a bark of laughter. “No, no hunchback. She does have red hair, though.”
“What’s wrong with red hair?”
“Nothing. She’s just assured me that it’s incredibly ugly.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
“Huh. Does she have lots of freckles? Because I’ve seen some redheads—”
“She’s got a few across her nose, but that’s it.”
“Is she crazy?”
“No. Not unless you consider having an ugly cat crazy.”
“So, what’s the problem? Did you get her here and realize you didn’t want to marry a stranger, after all?”
“No. I’ve decided to marry, and I will.”
“So when’s the wedding?”
“When my new bride gets here.”
“Huh.” Franklin rubbed his forehead, leaving a streak of oil behind. “All right. I give up. Just tell it to me straight.”
“I sent away for an ugly mail-order bride. I have a pretty one instead. So I’m not going to marry her, I’m going to wait for a homely one.”
“Is this about Muriel?”
Thomas shot him a dirty look for bringing up his ex-wife. “Of course it’s about Muriel. I’m not the type to overlook a lesson learned.”
“So what happens to this one?”
“She’s going to work for me for a couple of months as a governess.”
“Huh. She all right with that?”
“Actually, yes. She seemed happy enough not to have to marry me.” He hoped Franklin didn’t hear the irritation in his voice.
“So she’s free game?”
Thomas shot him another dirty look. “The next two months she’s my governess.”
“Sure. Sure. I’m just saying that if I meet her, and she was agreeable, you’d be all right if I courted her?”
Thomas tried to keep his face expressionless. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want to deal with another beautiful woman. It was fine by him if she married someone else. And she would get married. She was too pretty not to. She’d quickly be snatched up by another man. He shrugged. “Fine by me.”
They didn’t discuss Rachel again, but went back to their regular chores, closed down for lunch, and at the end of the day, after a steady stream of customers, locked up for the night.
The sun was just setting as he walked home, and the usual feeling of dread returned, hollowing his stomach.
He was never sure what he was about to walk into.
Hopefully, Rachel had stayed and hadn’t been run off by his family. And hopefully, she was not as attractive as he remembered.
He took a breath, opened the front door, and found his home warm, peaceful, and smelling of supper. Everything looked clean, neat, and tidy.
This was his home, wasn’t it?
He glanced to the right to see supper was already set on the table. His mother sat on one end, petting the ugly cat.
His daughter, looking very comely with her hair braided instead of hanging in her face, sat beside Rachel, who was teaching her to embroider.
Yes, he did live here.
Realizing he still clutched the doorknob, he slowly shut the door as confusion and hope warred within him. He tried to remember the last time he’d come home to any sort of peace or calm, and couldn’t recall. In fact, he knew he’d never come home to this.
He looked at Rachel. Bright and beautiful, a beacon after a long day of work. She’d done this. And blast it, she looked prettier now than she had before.
“Cassie, why don’t you show your father what you’ve done so far.”
Smiling, Cassie hurried over to show him the small flower she’d embroidered.
His throat tightened, but he managed to speak. “It’s beautiful.”
He glanced over at Rachel again, and he wanted her. He wanted to keep her, to come home to her, to this. A well-kept home, a happy child, and a beautiful woman.
He turned away.
He couldn’t do this. Yes, it was wonderful what she’d accomplished, but he’d learned painful lessons from his beautiful ex-wife. Whenever she wanted something from him, she knew how to best impress. He would not be tricked again.
He wasn’t going to fall for this. His new wife would probably do much the same, and he wouldn’t have to worry about other men trying to steal her away. Or her own eyes wandering.
“Thank you for being here today, Miss West. I can take it from here. Would you like me to walk you to the Gentrys’?
Chapter Five
There was no need to be angry.
She was absolutely not upset.
Rachel slowly walked back to the Gentrys' as she tried to calm her temper.
Yes, it surprised her when Thomas dismissed her so summarily. She’d expected to eat supper there, but she was sure Mrs. Gentry would have something for her. Luckily they’d had a mid- afternoon snack when Cassie arrived home from school, so it wasn’t like Rachel was starving or anything.
What a piece of work he was. Handsome on the outside, but not so much on the inside.
It was probably for the best. They didn’t need to be sitting down at the table like husband-and-wife, playing at happy family. That would be awkward for all concerned. His new wife might not like it.
Anyway, at this point he’d have to get down on his hands and knees and beg before she’d eat supper with that troll.
She giggled, the image of Mr. Arrogant doing such a thing making her laugh. And with that, the last of her anger evaporated.
Besides, what was there to be upset about? She still had the expectation of supper. She’d actually been well fed all day. Not at all what she was used to. Working as a seamstress hadn’t afforded a lot of extra money, and the one place they’d all tended to scrimp, was on food. They’d learned to make do with less.
She felt safe here. She had employment, for now, anyway. And a whole new job market to explore. If the town didn’t suit her, she’d have saved the train fare to go back to New York, or anywhere she wanted, really. It would all work out.
She arrived back at the Gentrys' and Mrs. Gentry looked happy to see her.
“Have you eaten supper?”
“No, I haven’t. I was planning to join the Buchanans, but Thomas kicked me out the moment he arrived home.” She tried to make light of it, like it was all a joke, but Mrs. Gentry’s expression darkened.
“That man’s bad behavior has got to stop. Did he walk you home?”
He offered, but I turned him down.”
“I’m going to talk to him.”
“Oh, please don’t. Truly, when I realized I might be able to sample your cooking again, I happily went on my way.”
At that, Mrs. Gentry looked pleased. “Of course, dear. We have plenty of chicken left over. I wasn’t sure where you’d be eating, and I didn’t want you going hungry.” The older woman smiled, her expression slightly devious. “After you eat, what say we go to the general store tonight?”
“Isn’t it closed after dark?”
“Heavens no. It stays open until nine-o’clock. There’s always quite a crowd there.”
“All right. That sounds wonderful. I’d love to see more of the town.”
As Mrs. Gentry bustled around and set a plate for Rachel at the kitchen table, her expression went from devious to self-satisfied. It was obvious the woman was up to something, but Rachel didn’t care.
She needed the distraction, and was glad to do anything that would get Thomas Buchanan off her mind.
~~~
The general store had everything. Material, shoes, food, dry goods, a beautiful candy counter, and much more. There was even premade clothing, some of it similar to what Rachel and her friends made back in Lawrence.
Mrs. Gentry had been right. There were a lot of people milling about. Some shopping, others chatting with neighbors, others walking. There were two men playing checkers over a flour barrel in one corner. Rachel breathed in the smells of cinnamon, oranges, and leather. What a wonderful place.
“You look around. I’ll be right back.” Mrs. Gentry headed over to talk to a dark-haired gentleman, and Rachel browsed the shelves. When she noticed the line at the counter diminish, she headed over that way.
“Excuse me.”
The balding man behind the counter wore a pleasant expression and a large white apron. “May I help you, miss?”
The dark-haired man Mrs. Gentry had been speaking with rounded the counter. He was very handsome, and maybe a few years older than her.
“I’ve got this Mr. Sharpton. May I help you?”
Mrs. Gentry was suddenly at her side. “Miss West, this is Mr. Edward Klein. He’s the owner of this store, and he goes to our church.” She said the last with pride, as if that was all anyone needed to know about the man.
“How do you do?”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss West. I understand you’ve only recently arrived in town?”
And Rachel understood Mrs. Gentry was trying to make Thomas jealous. She didn’t think it would work. “Yes. I’m working as Miss Cassie Buchanan’s governess.”
“Oh? Have you been a governess before?”
“Yes, though more recently I worked sewing clothing in Lawrence.”
“That sounds interesting.”
She chuckled. “It really wasn’t. But I made a lot of wonderful friends.”
“So are you originally from Massachusetts?”
“No. New York City.”
“Really? I went to New York once. I saw the Statue of Liberty not long after it was dedicated. We ate at Keens Steakhouse on 36th street. We had to, didn’t we? Being from Keene?”
She smiled, liking the handsome young man and his easygoing smile very much. “You did. I’ve never eaten there, but they have a wonderful reputation. Did you see Niagara Falls?”
“Of course. The Maid of the Mist ferried us close to Horseshoe Falls. It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”
“I went there as a child with my parents and my sister. I still remember how green it was.”
“And loud.”
Rachel laughed. “Very loud.”
Rachel realized Mrs. Gentry had moved away to study items on a shelf. She was close enough she could hear them, but far enough away that the conversation suddenly felt intimate.
Mr. Klein smiled at her, admiration in his gaze.
Was the man flirting? Rachel found herself taken aback. Her entire life had been work and scraping by for so long, that chatting with an attractive man was something of a novelty to her. Especially one so pleasant.
“You know, Keene isn’t without its own attractions. You should let me show you around sometime.”
“Oh.” Her stomach dropped. “I’m not sure. Perhaps after I’ve settled into my duties a bit.” She suddenly remembered her purpose. “Did I understand correctly that you are the owner of this establishment?”
“I am.”
He wasn’t dressed like a manager, but rather like a gentleman with his wool suit, tight tailoring in the arms, and narrow lapels.
“Do you work here often?”
He chuckled. “No. I have Mr. Sharpton for that. He runs the place for me.”
“Perhaps he is the one I need to speak to?”
That surprised him. “About what?”
“I wanted to ask about employment. I’m working as a governess now, but I’ll be needing a new job in a couple months.”
“You can have a job right now.” He glanced over Mr. Sharpton. “You can use the extra help, can’t you?”
“Of course.” The other man’s pleasant expression didn’t change.
Now it was her turn to be surprised. She’d applied for so many jobs in Lawrence, that obtaining a job so easily shocked her.
“Can you start tomorrow?”
Her stomach sank. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve made a commitment to work for Mr. Buchanan for the next two months. Does that disqualify me from the position?”
“Surely you’d rather work here than in a governess position?”
“I’m sorry. I’ve made a commitment to the Buchanans. I have to honor it.”
“Thomas? He can find another governess with a snap of his fingers. The ladies in this town find him irresistible for some reason.”
Her lips pressed tight and she shook her head.
“But I can see you plan to honor your commitment, and though your loyalty is misplaced, it’s admirable. I’ll hold the job for you until you can take the position.”
Surprise and gratitude flared through her. “Thank you. That’s very generous.”
Mrs. Gentry collected her, they said their goodbyes, and were on their way.
She had a job waiting for her. Relief and happiness buoyed her steps. She felt lighter and more optimistic about the future. She was so glad she’d come to this town.
She was going to love this place.
~~~
Thomas waited for Rachel to show up for work the next day. He’d expected her to be late, and was surprised when she was right on time. He opened the door to her knock.
Maybe he had a few erroneous, preconceived ideas about her.
“Good morning.” She wore the same battered shawl she’d worn the day before. For someone who had worked in the clothing factory, her c
lothes weren’t very nice.
“Good morning,” he finally returned.
She was attractive enough that it didn’t matter. He might wish that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t deny it.
“Would you like me to come in?”
Good grief. He was staring at her like a fool while she barely gave him a second glance, her attention almost entirely taken up by the ivy climbing the side of his porch.
He opened the door. “Come in.”
Without another word, she slid by him.
He wasn’t used to being ignored, which left him feeling annoyed. That, in turn, amused him. The ladies in town did tend to fawn over him. Did he now consider it his due? He hoped he hadn’t become so vain.
“Have a nice day.”
Was she dismissing him? The way he’d done to her the night before? Feeling irritable all over again, he put on his hat and, without another word, headed out. He walked down the road toward his place of business, and realized he’d completely forgotten his revolver. His customers expected him to wear one. With a feeling of anticipation, he turned and headed back again.
The downstairs was empty.
He could hear voices coming from upstairs, and wasn’t it convenient that his revolver was upstairs in his bedroom? He climbed the stairs and almost felt like he was spying upon Rachel. Trying to catch her doing something wrong? Maybe. Distrust was an ingrained habit at this point.
Rachel stood behind Cassie and brushed her hair as the girl sat at her vanity. His mother, still in her dressing gown, sat in a nearby chair and seemed to be listening to their chatter, enjoying the conversation.
Again a sense of rightness settled within him. This was exactly what he’d wanted. His child with a motherly influence. His mother with a companion. And, of course, he’d wanted a wife for himself. A woman ensconced in his home, there when he left in the morning, and when he returned at night. A chance of more children.
Rachel, standing there in the midst of it all, was exactly what he wanted. Had he made a mistake yesterday? Should he have married Rachel?
Dismay hit him hard.
He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were taking.
She wasn’t anything he’d wanted. She was too pretty, too outgoing, too perfect.