by Natalie Dean
She stared at him, her heart dropping into her stomach. She was never the type of girl to let herself get down, but this was bad. She’d never expected to find herself in this situation. She’d spent her entire life owing people money, but $1,000 was more than she’d ever be able to pay back. How was he even going to keep track of the money she owed him?
“You can’t keep me here.”
“I can, though. You signed a contract, Bridget, and if you break that contract, I can have you sent to jail. I don’t think you want that.”
“This isn’t what I wanted!”
“I was very clear in my letter. You told me you could cook, clean and raise children. That is what I’m asking you to do!”
She suddenly recalled the strange questions the woman at the Mail Order Bride company had asked her. She had indeed said she could do all those things. She was trapped, and it was her own fault. Finally, Bridget nodded.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“That’s a good girl.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood up at that, and she wanted to smack him, but she remained cool and collected by the grace of God. This was not going to be an easy relationship. She knew that already.
“Follow me.”
He showed her around the farm, showing her where she’d collect the eggs and what animals she was supposed to feed. Massive crop fields stretched on behind the house, but a smaller garden was what she would have to take care of. She looked around her, feeling anger bubble up in her chest. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be a farmer’s wife and here she was.
“Do you think you can handle it?” Jack asked, glancing over his shoulder as they came to the back porch of the house.
She rubbed her arm, glancing at the seemingly infinite fields behind her. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Jack leaned in close and looked her up and down. “I’m not looking for a fight, Bridget. I called you here because I can’t do this on my own. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which way would you rather do it?”
“I just hope you don’t expect me to roll over and do your bidding without question. That’s not who I am, Jack.”
With those stern words, she turned and went back into the house, leaving Jack stunned, and maybe just a little impressed.
Chapter Six
Bridget wiped her brow as she stirred a large pot of stew that she’d been trying to perfect over the last couple of hours. She was quickly learning that she was not wife material and her cooking was where it showed up the most. She dumped roughly chopped carrots into the water and sighed, watching the water start to roll and boil.
She leaned back and fell onto her ample bottom, putting her arms around her knees and drawing them to her chest. The floor creaked underneath the soft, pitter patter of feet. Roan clambered down from her loft and moved to sit beside Bridget in silence.
Roan was a well-behaved child, and Bridget was thankful for it. She’d been shocked to find that she was suddenly thrown into the role of a mother. It was something she hadn’t prepared for. She never saw herself as the mother type. She’d never been good with children and lacked the maternal instinct needed to raise them.
“What are you making?” the little girl asked.
“Stew.”
“It smells funny.”
Bridget turned to look at Roan and offered her a sharp look. “You shouldn’t be so rude, child.”
Roan dropped her head and toyed with her fingers, nodding. “I’m sorry, mommy.”
Bridget stiffened at the word and rubbed her temple, letting out a long sigh. She wasn’t used to being called ‘mommy,’ and she didn’t think she ever would be. It wasn’t a role she saw herself filling, yet here she was. At least Roan seemed to be a good girl.
“What happened to your mum?”
“My mum?” Roan wrinkled her nose, brows drawn together.
Bridget sighed “Your mom.” She took extra care to say the word like an American would.
Roan chewed her lip nervously and scooted closer to Bridget. “Daddy told me she went away.”
“Huh…”
“I don’t know where.”
“Right.” She didn’t ask any more questions, and she didn’t push Roan away. After all, it wasn’t the little girl’s fault that she found herself in this predicament.
They sat in silence for a long time before Roan finally stood on her twiggy legs and went back up the ladder to play with some handmade wooden toys. They left each other alone for the rest of the day and Bridget didn’t say much of anything until dinner was ready.
She pushed herself to her feet and went to the door, grabbing the small metal stick that she could bang on the triangle. The sound rang through the farm, and soon enough she saw Jack making his way towards the house from the stables. Sweat dripped from his brow as he made it to the porch and he reached up, wiping it away. His hair hung in his stormy eyes and his shirt clung to him.
Bridget’s cheeks went pink, and she cleared her throat, looking away and rubbing the back of her neck, trying to get herself together. He was an amazingly good-looking man. That couldn’t be denied. She hated that his good looks and steely gaze caught her off guard as much as they did.
“Dinner ready?” he grunted, heading into the house. He took off the stiff cowboy hat he always wore and set it aside, running his fingers through his thick mop of hair.
“That’s why I called you.” She murmured, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to ignore the way he made her heart flutter.
He grunted but wandered inside and poured himself a bowl of the stew. Everyone settled in around the small dinner table and started to eat. When Jack took his first bite, his nose wrinkled and he pushed the bowl away.
“What is that supposed to be?”
“It’s beef stew,” Bridget murmured.
“It tastes like what I feed to the horses!”
Bridget had been trying to keep herself together, she really had, but this broke the camel’s back. She stood up and the chair she’d been sitting in, toppled over. “I’m sorry! I’m trying my best! If you don’t like my cooking, perhaps you should find your other wife and have her cook for you! Or did your brutish demeanor run her off?!”
Jack fell silent and just stared at her, gripping his spoon so tight his hands were shaking. “My other wife?” he whispered.
“Yes! Roan told me she went away! It was probably because you chased her off! I can’t imagine a woman who would want to be around you! I know I certainly don’t!”
Without warning, Jack picked up the bowl of stew and threw it across the room. It hit the wall right next to Bridget’s head, and she screamed, ducking as it cracked against the wall and shattered into pieces. Bridget stood there for a moment, shocked and shaking as she tried to calm herself down. Even with her smart mouth and attitude, no man had ever reacted violently to her words. Then again, she’d never said something so cruel.
“You need to learn to think before you speak,” he whispered, his voice low and quivering. “And not to talk about things you don’t understand.”
Roan sat in silence, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, daddy. I—.”
“This isn’t your fault, Roan,” he said, walking over to her and ruffling her hair.
Bridget stood silently, her hands clasped in front of her as Jack picked Roan up and put her on his hip. “We’ll go into town and get something to eat.” His voice was soft now, though Bridget had to guess that the reason for that was because he was speaking to Roan.
“Alright, Daddy,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the ground.
Once they left, Bridget stared at the bowl, trying to ignore the angry tears that burned behind her eyes. She kicked the broken bowl across the floor and went to the bedroom, locking the door and collapsing on the bed. This wasn’t the life she’d wanted, and it wasn’t the life she’d expected.
All she could think about was how she was going to get out of here.
Chapter Seven
&nb
sp; The next morning, Bridget woke as the sun rose and cast light into the bedroom. Warmth kissed her skin, waking her up slowly. She sighed and sat up, realizing that she’d fallen asleep wearing her dress. She smoothed the fabric and stood, going to the wardrobe and changing into one of the other dresses she’d brought with her from London. She’d been so excited to wear them when she thought she was going to New York to live among the wealthy. Now they just made her feel silly. They were far nicer than what the other women wore, and it made her stand out.
She walked into the main living area and glanced up into the loft, making sure that Roan was still sleeping soundly. As she turned the corner to finally pick up the mess she’d left the night before, she was surprised to see Jack kneeling and sweeping up the last of the shattered bowl with a hand broom.
“Jack?”
He turned to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes were red and tired. Guilt settled in her belly, and she cleared her throat. “I feel like I should--.”
“Apologize?”
“Yes.”
He put his hand on his knee and stood up, grunting softly before turning to look at her. “You’re right. You should, but I think I ought to first.”
Her brows furrowed as he motioned for them to go outside. She followed him, taking in the beauty of the rising sun. It was one of the few good things about being in this no man’s land. There was no smog or buildings to block her view of the golden sunrise. Pink and yellow streaks dotted the landscape as the sun pulled itself over the tops of the distant mountains.
Jack sat on the steps that led up to the house and Bridget did the same. “I’m sorry, Bridget. I know I haven’t been the easiest to deal with, but I hope you understand that it is not you. It’s the circumstances.”
“What do you mean?” Bridget asked, brows furrowed.
Jack took a deep breathe in and out. “My wife didn’t run away. She died of consumption.”
Bridget’s hand went to her full lips, and her eyes widened. “Jack…I didn’t--.”
“I know you didn’t know.”
“Why did Roan say she went away?”
“Because I couldn’t tell her the truth, Bridget. She’s just a little girl,” he sighed, rubbing his face. “She doesn’t understand death, and I didn’t want to scare her or make her even sadder. One day I’ll be able to tell her the truth, but not today. I want her to be able to be happy and live a good life. There are so many children here who don’t have parents. This land is so unforgiving,” he sighed, looking out onto the horizon. “I didn’t want her to end up alone. I really was afraid that something might happen to me. I was sure that…”
Bridget sighed and reached down, touching his shoulder gently. “You don’t have to say anything else.”
“I want to. I’ve been holding it in,” Jack said, licking his lips. He had a slight tremble in his voice. He cleared his throat and dropped his head. “I was afraid that something would happen to me. I was afraid I’d get sick, and then Roan would have no one. I loved my wife. I loved her more than anything. I wasn’t looking for a physical relationship when I sent for you. I wasn’t even looking for love,” he sighed and rubbed his face a little. “I was looking for someone to care for my daughter if anything ever happened to me.”
Bridget was quiet, and that was a feat. She wasn’t a quiet woman, and she never had been, but this time she felt it was necessary. Jack had a lot on his chest, and he needed to get it off. She didn’t mind being the shoulder he leaned on. Finally, she smiled and touched his arm.
“You’re a good father, and I’m sure you were a good husband as well.”
He nodded and sighed, taking his hat off and setting it to the side. His thick hair tumbled out and hung around his chin. Bridget couldn’t stop herself from pushing it out of his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”
“It’s all right.” He said, licking his lips. “You didn’t know.”
“That isn’t really any excuse. I shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, and I was lashing out.”
They were silent for a moment, and Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I want to make this work. I want Roan to be happy, and I want her to have a real family. Life here isn’t easy, and I know that when she’s older, she’ll have a hard life. A lot of kids around here already do. I know kids who are barely ten, and they’re already working on farms for food. I don’t want that life for her.”
“She’s going to be happy, Jack. She has a good dad and I know I haven’t had the best attitude, but I’m willing to change. This is my life, now.”
“Are you okay with it?”
She smiled sadly and shrugged. “I’m a bit homesick, but there’s nothing for me in London. I left it behind because I needed a new start and this is definitely new.” She smiled and leaned into him. “You’re a good-looking man, Jack and you’re kind. I know I’ve been a handful, but I’m done with that now.”
He chuckled but wrapped an arm around her, giving her a squeeze and holding her close. “I’ll miss your wild attitude,” he said. “Maybe you could be just a little bit of a handful?’
She laughed and leaned into him, enjoying the warmth that radiated off his strong body. “I’ll try. Just for you.”
Chapter Eight
Things were far more settled after that. Bridget decided to make the best of her situation, and Jack was forgiving of the fact that she really didn’t know what she was doing. She was trying, and that was really all that mattered to him.
It was a bright, sunny day and they were walking through the market. It only came around on Saturday and people from all over the territories would set up shop and sell their goods. Mari had told Bridget about it, but she’d yet to go. Whenever she brought it up to Jack, he would get nervous and avoid the subject. She didn’t understand why but didn’t push her luck for a long time. After all, they’d just recently gotten back on each other’s good sides, and she didn’t want to mess that up.
Her patience finally paid off, and Jack caved. That was how she found herself wandering up and down the aisles of carts that were parked on the main street. Roan was on her hip, giggling and chewing on a piece of candy that Bridget had bought her.
“Are you enjoying your snack, Angel?” she asked, brushing Roan’s dark hair from her face.
Roan nodded and bounced happily. “Yes! It’s yummy!”
Bridget chuckled and just kept moving forward, humming to herself and looking at the goods the merchants were selling. Jack had wandered off at some point, but she wasn’t sure where to. She stopped at a stall selling golden watches and smiled, picking one up and turning it over in her hands. There were engravings of powerful horses on etched into the metal, and it reminded her of Jack. He loved his horses, and he always looked so happy when he was caring for them.
“Sir?” she called, waving a delicate hand.
An elderly man came over and offered her a warm smile. “How can I help you, miss?”
“I’d like to buy this watch.”
“Oh! That’s a nice one! Your husband will love it, I’m sure.”
It was the first time that someone had called Jack her husband and it caught her off guard. She blinked a little and took a step back, suddenly being reminded that she was a married woman now. It had almost escaped her completely.
“Ah…Right.”
The merchant glanced at her curiously, but wrapped it up in paper and handed it to her. She paid and thanked him, tucking it away as she walked over to the fruit stands. They grew plenty of vegetables in their garden, but fruit was harder to come by, and Bridget had a wicked sweet tooth.
“Is that watch for daddy?” Roan asked as Bridget set her on the ground.
“It is, but don’t tell him. It’s a surprise.”
A smile spread across Roan’s chubby cheeks, and her eyes lit up. “I’ll keep it a secret!”
Bridget chuckled and gave her a pat on the head. “Good girl.”
She turned to the stand and started to pick out fi
rm, ripe fruits, and as she did, the wind picked up. Sand blew around her ankles, swirling and blowing the fabric stall covers. Roan cried out as the wind picked her hat up and blew it away. The pink ribbon danced in the wind and Roan’s chubby fingers reached for it but came up short so she ran after it instead.
The wind carried the hat to the posts where the horses were tied up, and it fell just under the horse’s powerful hooves. Roan ran after it and ducked under the horses, reaching for her hat. Bridget’s eyes widened, and she ran after the little girl, watching in horror as the horses started to snort and shake their heads and stomp their hooves. Roan was oblivious to the danger, focused on the hat. She wanted to call out to the little girl, but she was afraid she might scare the horses even more.
Bridget’s heart was pounding in her chest when she finally reached Roan, her eyes wide. She reached out and grabbed the little girl around the waist, yanking her out from under the horses just as a hoof came down right where little Roan’s head had been and another crushed the hat.
“ROAN!”
“Mama! My hat!”
She cradled Roan to her chest, her hand on the back of Roan’s head as she squeezed the little girl a bit too tight. “What in the world do you think you were doing!”
“I just wanted my hat,” her voice was soft as if she knew she’d done something wrong.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” Her voice was high and her accent thick in her fear. “Don’t you realize you could have gotten hurt? Even killed?”
“I’m sorry, mommy,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Bridget.
She just held Roan close, trying to calm herself down. Over the last few months, she’d come to love the little girl dearly, and the thought of her getting hurt ate at Bridget’s soul. She was finally starting to calm down when a strong hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her away from the horses, forcing her to turn around.
Soon she was facing a red-faced man with thick hands and a round belly. He was the same man who she’d been purchasing fruits from just a moment ago.