A man who appeared to be the owner was talking to a plump woman who examined several bags of sugar. He glanced up. “Howdy, John.”
John smiled and waved.
The woman turned and gave a nod. “Good afternoon.”
The owner turned his attention to Eliza. “I’m Frank Garrison. This is Molly Richie, and that is John Evans.”
Eliza wondered why the owner felt the need to tell her John’s name. Maybe he was odd too. She glanced out the window and saw that the group of men had made their way across the street and were listening to everything they were saying outside the store. Had the door not been left open, they wouldn’t have received the pleasure of hearing anything. Those men weren’t right either. Maybe this entire town was odd.
Keenly aware of their audience, she said, “I’m Eliza.”
“Eliza what?” the woman asked.
Just Eliza. But she couldn’t say that. Her gaze drifted to the sugar. “Uh...Eliza Sweet.” She winced. Oh, that was awful!
“Nice to meet you, Miss Sweet,” Frank said.
So now she was stuck with that for a last name. Oh well. Worse things had happened to her.
John motioned around the store.
“Go ahead and search around,” the owner replied.
As Frank and Molly resumed their conversation about recipes to use sugar with, John led her to a broom in the corner of the store. He picked up the broom and started sweeping the floor. Then he pointed to her and the broom.
She blinked. Oh. He was telling her what her job would be if she worked for him. “Cleaning. You mean, I’d clean your house?”
He nodded and put the broom back. Then he led her to a table full of fruits and vegetables and pretended to eat them.
“And cook.”
He looked so excited that she understood him that she actually chuckled. Then he showed her soap and patted his shirt and pants.
“And do your wash.”
He nodded again before he turned his hands up. His expression asked her if she would agree to it.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Where would I stay?”
“You’re not his mail-order bride?” Frank spoke up.
Not that it was any of his business, but she answered, “No. I came to help Melissa Peters but found out that isn’t going to work out after all.”
“Yes. Poor Miss Peters. That was a horrible tragedy. Well, you’ll be in good hands with John. But John, where’s your bride? Are you sure she’d be happy to know you hired a woman to take care of your place?”
John held up his torn letter and shook his head.
“She didn’t come?” the man kindly deducted.
John nodded and shoved the letter into his pocket.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But it’s probably for the best. Things work out for a reason.” He looked at Eliza. “You plan to let Eliza stay in that small cabin off to the side of your house then?”
He nodded.
“I suppose that will work. Eliza, John is a good and decent man. He won’t take advantage of you.”
The snicker from outside the door made her wonder, once again, what was going on.
Frank’s mouth formed a tight line as he strode across the room and stood in the doorway. “Get away from my store.”
“Oh come on, Garrison,” one of the three men replied. “What woman is going to want to work for a mute? She won’t even marry him.”
Eliza blinked. That was why John didn’t speak. That also explained his odd behavior. Now she really felt bad for getting irritated with him. How else was he supposed to communicate with her?
“Mind your own business and go somewhere else unless you have something to buy,” Frank ordered.
“We’re going. We’re going.”
The men grumbled but left.
Frank returned, his face showing his displeasure. “I’m sorry about that, John.” Before Eliza had a chance to look at John, Frank approached her. “Eliza, I assure you that John is an honest, God fearing man. He won’t steer you wrong, and he could use a woman’s help out there. He spends so much time making furniture that he tends to neglect his place.”
“You make furniture?” she asked John.
“And fixes and repairs people’s homes. He does a lot of good here.”
She believed Frank, and she’d had enough dealings with men to know that John wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. In fact, his type often got taken advantage of. She sighed. Well, she wanted a fresh start, and though this wasn’t how she planned it, she supposed that this was just as well.
“Alright,” she told John. “But I’m not marrying you. You still have to wait for that bride of yours.”
John seemed content with that so she figured they wouldn’t have any problems. But on the way out of the store, one look at the group of men made her aware that problems were going to be inevitable. The question was, just what kind of problems.
Chapter Two
John tried not to stare at the new woman who’d come to town. Eliza. That was her name. He wished he could say it, to feel the way the word would roll off his tongue. But that would never be. Still, he could see, and she was certainly a beautiful woman. It was unfortunate she wasn’t Daphne O’Conner. He didn’t know what delayed Daphne. Perhaps she decided not to come when she found out he was mute. He made sure his brother, Aaron, added that when Aaron wrote the letter on his behalf. But her response came after the fact. Perhaps she thought it over and changed her mind...
He shifted Eliza’s travel bag to his other hand as they walked down the street past the barber shop. She argued with him about carrying it, but he saw no reason for a woman to do that if she didn’t have to. He was briefly aware of the others who watched them. What is she doing with him? That was the question in their eyes, and for some reason, Eliza didn’t seem to notice it. She merely chatted on about her trip from Omaha: how she’d boarded a train and found a stagecoach. She went into surprising detail on the subject. But he didn’t mind that she rambled. He liked the sound of her soprano voice.
And she certainly had the prettiest hair color he’d ever seen. He’d never seen anyone with red hair. It was vibrant. Gold highlights wove in and out of her strands that were pulled back into a braid that hung halfway down her back. Her skin was fair, evidence that she hadn’t spent much time in the sun. She had dark brown eyes that had a light brown tint around the pupils. Her lips were a lovely shade of pink.
Then there was the rest of her. She was slender, but not so much that she had to forfeit her figure as some women had to. He noted the way her hips swayed from side to side as she walked. She was graceful in her movements. Then when he lifted his gaze higher, his face grew warm when he looked at her breasts. He’d only seen bare breasts once in his life, and that time had been an accident. One in which Mrs. Cramer got out of her tub and entered her parlor without realizing he was there to deliver a chair he’d made for her husband. Her husband was as horrified as he’d been, and he made sure to quickly avert his eyes, though the memory was seared into his mind forever. He still couldn’t look that woman in the eye.
Now as he ventured a look at Eliza, he wondered what she looked like without clothes on. As quickly as the thought came, he forced it aside. She didn’t agree to marry him. She agreed to work for him. That was unfortunate...for him. Maybe not for her. It was probably best for her. As soon as she met his brother Troy, she might decide he was more to her liking. He already knew that Troy would like her. And Troy could talk and read and write.
John considered making another plea with her to marry him but decided that wouldn’t be fair to her. Maybe she’d want to marry Troy. Then he shouldn’t trick her into marrying him just to keep her around. Sighing, he returned his attention to what Eliza was saying.
“I guess this town is quaint,” she said, inspecting the row of flowers on the patch of grass lining the bank. “I don’t recall seeing such pretty flowers all over the place. Omaha wasn’t like this. It had more noise and dust rising
up in the air because of all the people trafficking through with their horses. Have you ever been to a bigger town?”
He shook his head.
She frowned. “Then you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” She shrugged. “It’s just as well. You’re not missing much. This town doesn’t have a bar, does it?”
He shook his head again. The mayor had done away with that establishment a year ago, though he couldn’t tell her that.
“That’s just as well too. Really, it’s a good thing. Too many bad things happen in bars.”
She was right. He recalled the loud shoot-out between Abe and Cal. Their tombstones would forever be a monument to that terrible night. Again, this was knowledge he couldn’t give her. Someone who spoke would have to do that instead. He sighed. He was being selfish in trying to keep her all to himself.
He could return her to the general store. He didn’t really need someone to help him. He managed fine on his own. But she was too appealing. Way too pretty. Way too friendly and accepting of his handicap. She hadn’t flinched when she learned he was mute. She even talked to him as if he were a normal person. And he liked that.
No. He wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. His gaze drifted back to the church. If only...
“This is such a neat little flower,” she said, breaking him out of his thoughts. She bent forward and touched the yellow petal in front of the white house. “I won’t take it, mind you. I just want to feel it. It’s soft. And the color is my favorite. I love yellow. Do you know why?”
Of course, he didn’t, but to his amusement, she continued as if he had spoken to her.
“Yellow is the color of hope.”
He wondered if he had any yellow flowers on his land. If not, he could probably plant some. Maybe it would convince her to marry him. Then she’d have to stay with him.
She stood up. “Which way to your home?”
He pointed to the two geldings attached to the wagon. He’d purposely parked it away from the heart of town. She wouldn’t know why, and for once, he was glad of it. Addy and Frank were nice to him. Some others were too. But not everyone was. He didn’t care to stay around when he wasn’t welcome.
After they reached the wagon, he placed her travel bag in the back. Then he turned and waited for her to get in.
Laughing, she shook her head. “You obviously don’t have any experience with women. I can’t get on this thing without your help...unless you want me to be unladylike about it.”
He blushed, wishing he had paid more attention to the way other men interacted with women. His world had consisted mostly of objects and his brothers. He picked her up and hesitated. She was a light thing. Didn’t she ever eat? But then he realized how nice she looked in his arms. He’d never held a woman before, so this was a pleasing experience. He wondered if there would be more chances like this.
“I meant that you could hold my hand to help me up,” she whispered. “Though this is the most chivalrous thing that’s ever happened to me, so I thank you.”
His eyebrows furrowed. Whatever did ‘chivalrous’ mean? It couldn’t be bad if she was thanking him, right? Pushing the question aside since there was no way he could ask it, he gently placed her up in the seat. She seemed like such a fragile thing, what with her slender frame and all. Yes, she definitely needed to eat more. He’d have to make sure that happened.
When he hopped on his side of the wagon, she picked up where she left off on her talking. She named the flowers they passed, commented on the flat landscape and told him about some of the farmers she had met over the years and what crops they grew. Then she made guesses on the crops that lined their grassy path. She was right most of the time, though he shook his head on one she got wrong. She didn’t look offended when he corrected her. Everyone else did. Not her. She actually seemed pleased that her wrong thinking had been corrected.
Yes, he thought. Eliza is not like anyone I’ve ever met. He liked that. He liked it a lot.
She suddenly stopped talking and gave him a good look. “You can’t read. Do you recognize any letters?”
Not sure of her meaning, he shifted on the seat so he could pull the torn letter from his pocket and held it out to her.
“Oh. No. I didn’t mean that kind of letter. I meant the letters of the alphabet. You know, ‘ABC’?”
He shook his head. All the words on the letter in his hand looked like a bunch of scribbling. When he was a child, he used to scribble the same markings down. Since he wasn’t allowed to attend school, he never figured out what the scribbles meant.
“Do you know what this letter says?” she asked, taking the ripped paper from him.
He nodded.
“Someone read it to you?”
He nodded again.
“And that’s how you find out what things say?”
He nodded.
This time she was the one who nodded. “Then I’m guessing you have someone write the letters to her too. Well, I think it’s about time you learned to read and write. I can teach you.”
He took his eyes off the path so he could study her to see whether she meant it or not. Maybe she was humoring him. But she didn’t laugh. She neatly folded the paper and put it in her purse. So she might be serious. If that was the case, he wanted to learn.
“We’ll start tomorrow. Today’s been a long day. I hope you don’t mind if I sleep.”
He hid his disappointment. He wanted her to stay up and keep talking to him, but he reasoned that for the time being, she would stay with him so he could allow her the good night’s rest that she desired. But not before she got something to eat. He tapped her on the arm to get her attention.
She glanced his way. “What is it?”
He motioned to his mouth.
Sighing, she shook her head. “No. I’m not kissing you. You need to save that for your mail-order bride.”
Surprised, he stared at her for a moment and almost directed the horses off the path. He quickly steadied the wagon and tried another way to get his meaning across. He touched his mouth again and then patted his stomach.
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh! I thought...Well, never mind. I understand. You want me to get something to eat before I go to sleep.”
Relieved, he nodded. Though it would have been nice to kiss her. If nothing else, it would satisfy his curiosity of what a kiss was like. He’d seen people kiss. They seemed to enjoy it. He had no doubt that he’d like to share a kiss with her.
She smiled. “Do you often use motions with your hands to let people know what you want to say?”
Forcing his mind off of her rosy lips, he shrugged. Sometimes it was natural to use hand motions. To demonstrate, he pointed to the tree to their right and then pointed to the sky.
“The tree is tall. That’s what you mean?”
Grinning, he nodded. This was fun. Usually, people dismissed his gestures.
“I used to play games like that,” she said. “We couldn’t use any words. This will be the same thing.”
He decided he’d take her word for it. He didn’t exactly see it as a game, but maybe it would be that way. At least she was willing to take the time to pay attention to him and teach him how to read and write. Then, maybe when she realized that his mail-order bride had decided not to come after all, she might know him better and want to marry him. He heard people use the term ‘love at first sight’, but he hadn’t grasped its meaning until he saw her get off the stagecoach.
And with any luck, his brother Troy would stay away from his place while he set about the task of convincing her to marry him.
Chapter Three
Eliza couldn’t remember the last time she slept straight through the night. Then again, her job had required her to stay up late. For once, she felt like a lady. A single lady had her own bed. A single lady also had respect, and she wanted to be respected. It was a good thing people in town knew John was the kind of man who wouldn’t try to take advantage of her because his home was much further out of the way than she th
ought it’d be when she agreed to work for him.
He did provide her with a nice little building to the side of his three room house. Her small home was one room, but it was all she needed. He took an old twin-size bed that she guessed used to be his and carried it to the little cabin. Apparently, he used the place to polish the furniture he made, for rows and rows of paints, brushes, and carving knives decorated the shelves. Four table legs rested on the large work table. He had been shaving into the wooden legs, and she stopped for a moment to admire the intricate ovals and ribbons he had already carved into them. He was a man who took great care into the smallest detail of his work. She admired that about him.
He had dragged out a large trunk for her to put her things in, and her light blue dress, her undergarments and extra pair of shoes made her realize how little she actually owned. Besides a brush, a mirror, a few books and a picture of her son whom she’d given up for adoption, she had nothing else. Well, there was the rest of her cash, but that was only enough to last two weeks. She had tucked the cash and picture under her clothes, but she placed her books on the small table by the bed.
John had also brought out a rocking chair to put by one of the two windows. Then he added another small table, a pitcher of water, a cup, and a wash basin. She brushed her hair and braided it again. One of these days she was going to have to bathe. She had spent most of her life around perfume, and without it now, she became aware of how bad the human body could smell when one went without bathing for a month. She poured some water in the basin and washed her face, realizing too late that she had no towel. She waved the water off her hands while she glanced out the window.
The sun had already risen, and John was leaving his house. She couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet. If she had to guess his age, she’d say he was in his mid-twenties. Of course, some people looked older or younger than they actually were.
She opened the door before he had a chance to knock. “I saw you coming so I decided to save you the trouble.”
Loving Eliza Page 2