The Convenient Bride Collection: 9 Romances Grow from Marriage Partnerships Formed Out of Necessity
Page 28
Virginia could barely tear her gaze from the man who seemed to be purposely avoiding hers. He was like John, and yet so different. Taller, of course, which pleased her, because so many men reached her nose and not beyond. And John was certainly handsome, with his wavy dark hair and watchful eyes. But this man had something else in his eyes, a sort of soulfulness she hadn’t seen in John that couldn’t help but catch her attention.
None of which mattered, of course. Not even his height. This was the first and last day she would be seeing him.
Despite the truth behind their wedding ceremony, despite the sure knowledge that an heir to this lovely garden and beyond was most certainly not forthcoming from her—ever—she had no qualms about declaring the veracity of her faith.
“I am a Christian, Reverend, and strive to serve the God of the Bible because He first loved us. How could one not love a God who became man, suffered, and died, just so our blame-filled lives could be acceptable to a just and blameless Creator?”
The reverend, not surprisingly, seemed more pleased with her answer than he had with Paul’s a moment ago, but evidently both answers passed his test. Still, he did not lift the little prayer book already in his hand, which likely held the vows they were about to exchange.
“Arranged marriages are often the most fulfilling,” he said, “simply because both parties come to the union with few misconceptions of the other’s humanity. In other words, you won’t be blinded by a veil of love, but rather come together and let life mold your teamwork more naturally. I do hope, Mr. Turnbridge, that you will be able to attend the humbler cathedral that is my church now that you will have a wife who will no doubt want to keep up her training in the Word of God?”
The crooked smile on Paul’s face made Virginia’s heart skip a beat. My, but he was handsome. Why had he never married, if only to provide that heir the minister had just proclaimed him in need of?
“I shall continue to send in my tithe, Reverend DeWeis, which I’m sure you will be happy enough to see without me. Beyond that, I will make no promises, lest any promise could be broken.”
Virginia’s heart, so shallow and eager to jump at the recognition of a handsome face, now skidded to a halt. He might believe in God, but how could he grow in knowledge of spiritual matters if he wasn’t willing to go to church and be tutored by those who made study of the Bible their mission in life? And what of joining in worship with others, in community, to join a choir of no less than angels to sing and celebrate God’s blessings?
Though the minister raised his book at last, he put a hand on Virginia’s shoulder and spoke as if commissioning her to action. “Perhaps you, my dear, will have more success than I in bringing this believer under a real church roof.”
Then, without delay, he began the heavenly work of binding two souls into one by the power of holy matrimony.
Chapter 5
Milwaukee
Five months later
October, 1871
Virginia pinned the hat in place on Mrs. Schumacher’s ample hair. She was one of Virginia’s best customers, the wife of the watchmaker whose business shared the same upper floor as John’s law office.
The hat was blocked straw covered in mustard-colored velvet, its underbrim edged in cotton lace. The hat would sit better if a chin ribbon were allowed, but Mrs. Schumacher never liked anything to tickle her neck and so she’d opted for pins—the silver pins that Virginia ordered especially for her.
With fall already upon them, Virginia’s customers loved the colors she used to reflect autumn’s blaze as God transitioned earth’s jewelry from lush and green to reds and golds and yellow, readying it for the whites and sparkles of snow and ice to come. On top of the velvet Virginia had added the smallest burnished red bow, with a bit of netting to keep it from flapping in the wind.
“Another lovely bonnet, Miss Haversack!” Mrs. Schumacher turned her head from side to side before the mirror to enjoy the fuller effect. “I don’t know how you keep coming up with such lovely creations, but I’m glad that you do.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Schumacher,” Virginia said. She hadn’t bothered to inform any of her customers that, legally at least, her name was now Mrs. Turnbridge. Why have people wondering what sort of marriage she’d entered when her life had not changed these past five months? No sense anyone asking after the health and well-being of a husband she hadn’t seen, as agreed, since their wedding day. She’d hurried away right after the minister finished the ceremony, refusing an offer for cake. Sharing such a traditional treat would only lend credence to a ceremony she didn’t want it to have. So, on the heels of the departing minister, she’d urged John to take them back to the city.
She walked Mrs. Schumacher to the shop’s door but kept hold of the handle for fear of a fierce wind that had been blowing all day and might bang the door against the display window. A hot, dry wind off the prairie that even here in the city seemed to suck the last meager bit of moisture from everyplace and everyone.
With a glance at another blue sky on this fall day, she bid Mrs. Schumacher a good afternoon. “And don’t forget to pray for rain!” she called as the woman stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Oh, yes, indeed. My husband says the whole of the Midwest is a veritable tinderbox!”
Instead of returning inside, Virginia pulled the key from her pocket, locked the shop door, and made her way next door. While her own upper floor offered a comfortable apartment, the two floors above the building beside hers housed only offices or other shops. A haberdashery, a candy store, John’s law office that he shared with his partner, and also a publishing office. But the largest space was taken up by the entire third floor, where a tailor employed several dozen workers every day of the week except Sunday. Virginia herself sometimes borrowed a few of the young seamstresses to help with her bonnets when she was especially busy.
As she’d done every day for the past week now that Sarah was so close to the baby’s arrival, Virginia hurried up to John’s office. Sticking her head around the door, she saw him bent over one of the two desks that filled the good-sized room.
“Any word yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, needing no explanation. Every morning and every afternoon, sometime before John was expected to leave for the day, Virginia checked to see if the little neighbor boy assigned to fetch John had made an appearance.
“All right then,” she said, starting to close the door again. John’s voice stopped her.
“Everything all right with you, Virginia? Water buckets all filled? Coal fires tended?”
“It’s hardly been cool enough to light the coal, even at night, don’t you think?”
“I found the boy in the candy shop warming himself by their stove in the basement this morning. An empty bucket at his feet.”
She frowned. “I hope you made sure he keeps that water bucket filled. Perhaps speak to Mr. Fassbinder?”
The owner of the candy shop was notoriously indulgent, proving how fit he was to sell the sweets he loved to create. Hopefully he’d cautioned his young employee about the dangers of fire, especially lately, but his everlasting smile and friendly nature weren’t likely to produce any lasting impressions, at least as far as discipline was concerned.
“Remind Sarah I’ll be stopping by this evening, won’t you? And I’ll stay the night if she needs me.”
“Thank you, Virginia,” John said with a grateful smile. “You’re her sister in every way.”
The following day, Sunday, came and went without the arrival of the newest little Turnbridge. Taking time away only to attend church services, Virginia stayed by her friend’s side. John was there as well, quietly somber, ready to shout from the rooftops first for a doctor then whatever good news was sure to follow. Virginia assured Sarah she would call the footman to summon the doctor and not depend upon John’s rooftop method when the doctor’s services were needed.
But on Monday, with no sign of change except Sarah’s growing restlessness, Virginia returned to her millinery sh
op for another day of bonnet making. Three days a week young Melissa Maynard came to help with sales while Virginia worked, and today when Melissa arrived her eyes were lit with worry and color highlighted her cheeks, as if she’d run all the way to the shop.
“Did you hear the news?”
The only news Virginia expected was of the baby, and she’d only just left Sarah’s side a few hours ago. “But I told them to let me be the second one summoned, right after the doctor!”
Melissa tilted her head, a look of confusion on her pretty young face. “It’s the fires I’m talking about! Burning to the north of us, and to the south. Up in the northern woods right here in Wisconsin. And Chicago! They say only God can save the city now, because it’s been burning throughout the night.”
“Oh, no! How awful for everyone.”
Then Virginia hurried to the back of the shop to the boiler closet. Unlike the older building that housed John’s office, her building came equipped with boiler and radiators to keep both the shop and apartment above warm. She checked the boiler regularly, as her father taught her to, making sure no pressure was building up and the temperatures were evenly set. She hadn’t even lit the boiler yet this year because of the unusually warm weather, but now she unnecessarily checked to be sure everything was as it should be.
She vowed not to light the thing until the city was blessed with rain.
Paul didn’t keep many hives, just a half dozen for his own honey production. He wintered them in the cellar some twenty yards behind the house, but it was certainly too early to move them yet. He’d just come from a neighboring hive that produced far more honey than his, and had heard the disturbing report that a farm just five miles to the south had lost its entire corn crop to fire.
He looked again at the sky, which for the first time in more days than he could remember was starting to gather some promising gray clouds. Let it rain, and rain soon—before all the crops not yet harvested succumb to similar fires.
Then he went in search of his foreman, to make sure harvesting was still at full speed.
Chapter 6
Squeeze my hand harder if you must, Sarah! Let me share what you feel!”
Virginia hadn’t meant to say those words, as if she herself longed to feel the excruciating pain of childbirth that Sarah suffered, if only in her fingers. Certainly she had never allowed herself to dream of being a mother, at least not since she was little more than a child herself. But at the moment she would give anything to take some of the pain from her dear friend, who grunted and pushed as no lady in society would admit, in order to free the life that had grown inside her and allow it to join the world as its own little person.
“Oh! Virginia!”
“I’m here, Sarah. You’re doing everything right, just as you always do. Now let me feel the next push, and with the doctor’s help we’ll get to meet your little darling!”
It wasn’t quite with the next push, but soon enough Virginia was wiping sweat from Sarah’s brow, brushing away her mussed hair, and placing the bundled and squirming baby boy into her friend’s arms.
The miracle of life made Virginia’s heart soar for Sarah. And for John. And even, a little bit at least, for the distant uncle who would have his heir after all.
When Virginia opened a parlor window the morning after little Elijah Turnbridge was born, it didn’t take long to smell that something not far away must be amiss. She looked outside, wondering if a nearby house had a problem with its boiler or stove.
“Fire! It’s in your building, Mr. Turnbridge!”
Virginia heard the boy before she saw him, the same one commissioned to run for the doctor last night. Now he ran with his bony arms flailing at the same time as he rushed up the porch and banged on the door before she could reach it.
“Get Mr. Turnbridge! His building’s afire!” Then the boy hurried back from where he’d come, not bothering to wait and see if his warning made it to John.
Virginia was half tempted to run after the boy, thinking of her own building’s proximity. But she knew what she must do first. She went upstairs to find John.
She could barely utter the words that would be in such sharp contrast to the joy he surely felt at Sarah’s side, staring in amazement at the son they had created together with God’s help. At least she could spare Sarah from too much worry. They didn’t even know the extent of the fire yet, and it might not have touched John’s office at all.
Besides that, the real importance was their family was intact. John’s office and all of its contents could certainly be replaced.
“John,” she whispered, seeing Sarah was nearly asleep beside her dozing child.
He came from the bedroom, meeting Virginia in the hall.
“I think we had both better go to your office. A boy came running down the street, saying the place was afire.”
“What!” He sprinted toward the staircase but stopped at the top, looking back at the door to the room where his wife and child lay. Before he could even ask, Virginia spoke.
“I’ll make sure your housekeeper watches over her,” she assured John. “I’ll follow as soon as I can.”
“Must you? Can you stay until I return?”
She wanted to, but with her own uncertainty growing, so fresh on the heels of devastating tales from Chicago, she knew her own worries would only multiply.
“I’m a little eager to be sure my own place is all right. Would you mind if I just ran over to make sure then came right back? Sarah will be all right. Surely both she and the baby will sleep awhile after the night they had changing the world.”
John offered a grim smile and a slight nod. “You’re right, of course. You’ll let the housekeeper know, then? They’re not to be left alone?”
“Yes, John, of course. Now go. I’ll follow as soon as I can then hurry right back.”
Everything went exactly as planned until Virginia turned the corner to the block where she worked and lived. She peered through a crowd of staring and pointing onlookers who repeated phrases like “what a blessing it didn’t spread” and “God surely watched over the neighborhood with the losses so contained.” Before she could decipher why the street’s landscape looked so shockingly different, John appeared and took both her hands.
“I’m so sorry, Virginia. So sorry.”
She stepped around him, and the crowd parted politely, silence taking the place of the sounds she’d heard just moments ago. Then she saw what everyone else had already seen, and she gagged trying to take in a breath of the sooty air.
John’s three-story building was gone, leaving behind only the charred ruins of a few stubbornly standing beams in memory of the floors and walls they’d once supported.
And her own two-story shop and apartment building was nothing more than a heap of still-burning rubble.
It couldn’t be simply gone. Not gone! Hadn’t someone just said God had surely protected their neighborhood? How could He have done that, while allowing her home and business to burn?
Chapter 7
Paul unfolded the paper, an obviously hastily scrawled note written by his brother yesterday, though it hadn’t reached Paul until this afternoon.
Fire devastated our business, but worse for Virginia as she has lost all.
Please come to the city.
Yours, John.
P.S. You are an uncle.
Frowning, Paul reread the few words that contained such a mix of horrid and joyous news. It was bad enough for John to lose the contents of his office—irreplaceable records, deeds, letters both corporate and personal—but for Virginia?
He may have given as little thought to his wife as she’d spared of him these past five months or more, but he wouldn’t have wished anyone to suffer what she must be facing right now.
And yet … The rest of the words made an impression as well. He was an uncle. Of what, he wondered? Did he have a niece or a nephew? That alone was enough to warrant an unprecedented visit to the city he normally chose to avoid.
“Mrs
. Higgins! Would you please pack a bag for me? I must leave immediately.”
Virginia watched Sarah with the baby, as she talked to him gently and lovingly stroked the cheek that Virginia knew was softer than any silk she used to cover her bonnets.
How she wanted these first days of little Elijah’s life to offer only the joy-filled memories that they should. She wanted to be happy for Sarah, proud that she’d done so well during childbirth, remarkably withstanding the pain. Not only that, she’d produced an amazingly healthy seven-and-a-half-pound baby boy who looked very much like his father. And uncle.
Virginia turned back to the window in Sarah’s room where Sarah was recovering her strength since giving birth two nights ago. Despite the peace they’d had all day inside the closed door, John’s home was no longer the untouched, quiet sanctity the baby had been born into. No one had been more surprised than John to learn the tailoring shop upstairs had not only employed but also housed a half-dozen young apprentices who had barely escaped the fire with their lives. One young girl had suffered a broken leg from jumping out a window, breaking the arm of the desperate friend below who’d tried catching her.
They were just as homeless as she was, and John, having invested in the building itself, had seen fit to take several of them in. His partner, Mr. Thackery, had done so as well, and so even had the Schumachers.
Thankfully for Virginia, John was taking care of the paperwork end of things, following through with insurance claims. Because Virginia’s father had taken John’s advice about ample insurance, they should be able to rebuild without too much trouble once they collected on their policies.
A carriage drew her notice as it stopped in front of the house. If she’d slipped off to await dinner in the room she’d been using at the back, she’d have missed seeing the arrival of none other than her very own husband.
Paul tapped on the door. When he heard a variety of voices coming from within, he double-checked with a glance thrown over his shoulder to make sure the front yard was as familiar as he remembered it to be. It was more than odd that he would hear multiple young female voices. Laughter, even one voice raised in song. Perhaps a brood of women celebrating the arrival of his new niece or nephew?