She scanned the people on the train platform. Her breath caught. There, near the engine. Even from the distance of two train cars, Annie could feel the intensity of the man’s gaze. It felt like he looked right into her soul and was melting her very insides. There was a woman holding onto his arm, obviously his wife. He was the most handsome man Annie had ever seen. Too bad he wasn’t the man she had come to meet. She pulled her gaze reluctantly away and started another scan of the people on the platform. Then the woman at his side waved her arm and called out, “Annie.”
No. Annie’s heart leapt up into her throat. She couldn’t be so lucky. That man couldn’t be George. Could he? Maybe there was another woman named Annie getting off the train behind her. Not wishing to get her hopes up, she stood rooted to the spot for a moment. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Was it really so hard to believe that something good could happen for her? Annie raised her hand near her face and gave a small wave.
The woman broke into a run. Annie barely had time to brace herself before being engulfed in a bear hug.
“Oh, Annie. I’m so glad you’ve come.”
The man slowing made his way toward them. Annie noted the hat pulled down over sandy-colored locks and those magnetic eyes that she could now see were hazel. Her insides went all warm when his shirt pulled and stretched across well-developed shoulder and arm muscles. Annie couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be held by those strong arms. She felt her face heat up and ducked her head to get her blush under control.
“Molly, let the woman speak.” His voice was deep and rich and slid up Annie’s spine like a warm breeze. He tipped his hat. “Ma’am, I’m George Pulaski and this here is my sister, Molly.”
How exactly did one greet the man who had proposed marriage via a letter? Not knowing quite what else to do. Annie bobbed a curtsy and held out her hand. “How do you do? I’m Annie Singer.”
His large callused hand fit nicely around hers. The warmth of it sent sparks racing up her arm.
CHAPTER FIVE
He’d been a bumbling fool. Fawning over the woman with her city clothes… He flicked the reins. City manners, and oh so proper English. She’d even curtsied! He flicked the reins again. There was no way a city woman like that would get dirty and do all the work needed to help on a farm. George snapped the reins a little too hard this time. The wagon lurched and he threw out his arm to prevent his two passengers from flying off the seat. He pulled his arm back just as quickly. Even through his heavy flannel shirtsleeve and her dress bodice, his arm burst into flame where it connected with her body.
And that was another thing.
Molly was supposed to be sitting in the middle next to him. But she jumped down at the last minute to say hello to a friend. One she’d talked to just before the train arrived. When she climbed back up, she’d said, “Annie, just scoot over, will you? No sense me climbing over you again.” What was he supposed to do? Make a big fuss out of it, right there in the middle of town?
So he’d been pressed hip to hip with Annie the entire ride home. As if that weren’t enough to keep his mind wandering from the road, her fancy hooped skirts kept tangling up with his legs. Why would any woman wear a hooped skirt out on the prairie? Alright, it looked mighty pretty on her but that was beside the point. What was the point again? George shook his head. The point was the woman didn’t belong on the prairie. That much was obvious.
Annie asked him questions about the town as they road through. George tried to answer but his throat was dry and no sound came out. Luckily, Molly jumped in and answered Annie’s questions. It wasn’t long before Annie and Molly were deep in conversation like old friends. Which was just fine with George. He didn’t want to be too friendly if he was going to have to send her back on the next east bound train. He’d have to think about that. With both women occupied and the horses knowing the way home, George took the opportunity to watch Annie out of the corner of his eye. He found himself staring at the gentle curve of Annie’s neck and the delicate lobe of her ear. And heaven help him, the rise and fall of her breasts as she spoke.
He sighed with relief when the homestead came into view. “Here we are.”
CHAPTER SIX
Annie looked to where George pointed. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” And she meant it. Annie would have loved the place if it had been a one bedroom shack as long as there were no brick buildings with tiny closed up windows and tall chimneys belching coal dust. But the little white house with the front porch and the red barn next to it were just as she’d imagined. The home sat in the middle of wheat fields. She knew she would love it here.
Annie was delighted with the inside of the house as much as the outside. Molly showed her around inside while George tended to the animals. The walls of the main room were whitewashed to give a light airy feel. Two rocking chairs and a small table sat in front of a fireplace and a large eating table took pride of place on the other side of the room. Through the doorway at the back was a kitchen complete with a cast iron stove and indoor water. Annie pulled the handle of the pump at the sink and found it much easier to use to draw up water than the one at her old boarding house. She cupped her hands and laughed at the sweet taste of the water.
Molly then showed her through the doorway on the other side of the main room to the left of the fireplace. “This will be the bedroom you share with my brother after you get married. It’s yours until then.”
Annie took in the crocheted lace trim on the bottom edge of the buttercup yellow curtains and the wooden chest of drawers with the interlocking hearts in the center of the top drawer face.
“My Pa made that dresser for my Ma the year before they caught the fever. I hope I can be in love as much as they were after so many years of marriage.”
Annie could only nod in agreement. A sudden lump had lodged in her throat. Would George be able to love her that much in ten years? Would he be able to love her enough soon for them to start off with a good marriage? He had been so quiet since they’d met that doubts buzzed around in her head again.
“Molly? You said this would be my bedroom until the wedding. Where are you and George sleeping?”
“I sleep in the loft so you don’t need to worry about me. And this was George’s room. He won’t mind giving it up for his bride-to-be.” Molly smiled and danced out of the room.
Annie blushed as she thought about sleeping in the bed that belonged to George. “But where will George sleep?” she asked again, following Molly back to the kitchen. Annie hadn’t seen any other bedrooms.
“Oh, he’ll sleep in the hay loft in the barn. He does that often enough on warm summer nights.”
“I can’t have George sleep in the barn because of me.” Annie jumped nearly out of her skin when George’s rich voice answered from behind her.
“It’s not a problem. I sleep out there often enough in the summer as I’m sure Molly’s told you. Besides, it wouldn’t be proper for me to be sleeping in the house just now.”
Annie was silent in shock as much by his quiet sudden appearance as by the dizziness she felt from his warm breath upon her neck. She skittered out of the doorway to allow him to enter the room.
George stood there for a minute looking at her. She was so confused. In his letters he’d been so lively. And yet in person he’d alternated between ignoring her and staring deep into her soul like he was now. Annie was having trouble creating an accurate account of him. That job was made even harder when he looked at her like that and all she wanted to do was drown herself in his eyes.
He broke their eye contact and Annie almost staggered. She turned and straightened jars on the shelf next to the sink to give herself time to recover.
George spoke to his sister. “Do you need any more wood put by for the stove?” Molly must have shaken her head. ”Then I’ll wash up at the pump outside and be right back.”
Before Annie could get her emotions fully under control, he was gone.
Helping Molly set the table, Annie smiled to herself. If sh
e was going to be this affected by a handsome man, it was a good thing that man was going to be her husband. She hummed a tune as she finished her chore. All doubts, about coming across country to marry a man she’d only met through his letters, vanished.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Molly and Annie rode in the buckboard with George riding his horse alongside. Annie wore her second best dress. The navy one that had been her Sunday dress in Lowell. She rubbed her thumb back and forth over the Bible in her lap hoping its comforting presence would calm her nerves. In the two days she’d been with Molly and George, several close neighbors stopped by to meet her including Molly’s beau, James Moore. But today she’d be meeting the entire town.
Before she could wear a hole clear through the cover of the Good Book, they reached the church. People milled around in the yard. They waved and hailed George and Molly as they came into view. Annie plastered a smile on her face. She had never been one to seek out attention but had the feeling today, she would be the center of it whether she wanted to or not.
George tethered his horse and handed first Molly then Annie down from the wagon. With her nerves strung so tight, Annie mis-stepped getting down and George had to catch her. She felt heat sizzle where his hands touched her waist and she knew she blushed furiously. Taking a moment to drop her head and push an escaped curl back into her bonnet, Annie got herself back under control.
Annie was introduced as a friend of Molly and George’s great aunt back east. Even though it was a white lie, Annie noticed it was not said once they entered the church. She could understand not wanting to let people know she had answered an advertisement. And it was probably just as much to protect her reputation as George’s. But she was glad they weren’t starting their lives together with a lie told in the Lord’s House.
Service was lovely. The church didn’t have the marble alter or stained glass of her old church, but it made up for it in the warmth of the congregation. A young man played the fiddle and a woman, with a voice that could get her in any choir back east, lead everyone in singing the psalms.
As happened on the ride from the train station on that first day, Annie somehow found herself seated between Molly and George. Since there were not enough song missals for everyone, Annie shared one with George. It was wonderful to hear his voice ring loud and true. Annie sent god a silent prayer of thanks for sending George into her life. He was everything she could have hope for in a husband. She also said a prayer of thanks that Molly was friendly and seemed happy that Annie was here to marry her brother.
As they sat there listening to the pastor’s sermon on miracles and trust, George took her hand in his and placed it on his knee. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and caught him smiling. Little bubbles of excitement ran up her spine when his thumb traced circles on the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger. She lost track of what the pastor was saying as she enjoyed the moment. That was until she heard the pastor say her name.
Annie felt the heat rise in her face. She had done more blushing since she’d been here than in her entire life. But her blush made the pastor’s smile grow wider. “George, please stand with your fiance so we can all add our good wishes.”
George stood and gave her hand a small tug. When Annie stood next to him, George wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled down at her. The congregation broke into applause. Tears of joy threatened to spill, but Annie didn’t want to ruin this moment.
They sat down and the process was repeated for James and Molly. Annie was almost as happy for her new friend as she was for herself. A smile lit both women’s faces throughout the rest of the service.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Annie sat on the front porch peeling potatoes. Gone was the big hooped skirt and pearl-buttoned boots she’d worn the first day she’d arrived. Instead, she was wearing the plain cotton gowns and worn leather boots that had been her everyday attire at the mills. With each day here, she felt more and more like this was where she was meant to be. After almost a week, she barely remember her old life in the factory.
She dropped a potato into the pot of water next to her and reached into the sack for another. George was spending more time with her since Sunday’s announcement of their betrothal.
She still had trouble sometimes matching the man she was falling in love with to the words in his letters. But if he didn’t speak endearments to her like she knew he would have if he’d written her a letter, that was a small gray cloud in the far corner of a great blue sky.
As if thinking of George caused him to appear, he strode toward her with purposeful strides and a smile on his face. He stopped and sat on the stair next to her. Reaching into the sack, he pulled a potato out and absently tossed it up in the air repeatedly. He looked so relaxed and handsome, Annie could hardly believe her luck.
“How would you like a tour of the farm after supper?”
“I’d love it.” She laughed and grabbed the potato in mid-flight. “Now, get so I can finish making supper.”
George walked inside and left Annie with a smile on her face.
Annie tried not to listen when she heard raised voices in the house. At first, the voices were muted as George and Molly must have been in the kitchen. Annie kept peeling her potatoes and enjoying the view out over the horizon. It still amazed her that one could see practically forever from one’s own front porch here.
After a few minutes, the voices inside became louder. The pair must have walked into the main room and stood near the open windows. Annie had just placed her half peeled potato into the bowl with the skins. She would go for a little walk and give the two some privacy. But before she could get up, their argument became clearer and easier to hear.
“You have to tell her.” Molly said.
“There’s no reason, it’s in the past. It’s forgotten.” George said.
“Are you serious? A marriage needs to be built on trust. Annie needs to know you didn’t write those letters.”
Annie felt all the blood drain from her face.
“She’ll forgive us when she knows I wrote that advertisement and answered all her letters out of concern for you.”
Annie gasped as the words she heard registered in her mind. She stood up and the tin bowl of potato peelings clanged to the floor and clattered loudly down the stairs. The voices inside the house stopped.
Annie couldn’t believe the man she loved had lied to her. No wonder his letters had sounded so different. He hadn’t written them. Annie couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. She needed to get away. Picking up her skirt, she ran. Tears streamed down her face as she headed for the small corpse of trees near the house. She heard the door bang open and George call her name. She ran faster. She didn’t want to talk to him.
In her headlong rush to get away, she wasn’t watching where she was going. Her foot caught on something and she started to fall forward. She grabbed at a tree to catch herself and felt a burning pain in her arm as she scraped the tree bark on her way down. She quickly sat upright then froze.
An unearthly rattle sounded just in front of her.
There on the ground no more than two feet from her toe was a coiled rattle snake on a pile of decayed leaves. It’s rattle pointed straight up and the rest of its body coiled and ready to strike. Annie and the snake stared at each other.
Vaguely, in some other part of her mind, she heard George coming for her. But she knew he would be too late and that there was nothing he could do. The snake was too close.
She was afraid to look away. She prayed while looking into what she knew was certain death.
“Please Lord, watch over George and Molly.”
CHAPTER NINE
When George heard Annie gasp, he saw the windows were open. She’d heard them.
He had to get to her. He had to explain.
He sprang across the room and was almost to the door when her metal bowl clanged as it hit the porch. Swinging the door open, he saw Annie racing away from the house.
“Annie, st
op!”
She was ignoring him and he couldn’t blame her. Molly was right. He should have told her about the letters.
His heart stopped. His call had made her turn toward the trees near the creek. A rattler had spooked his horse the other day and gotten away in the underbrush near the area she was headed for.
He ran after her with all the speed he could. He berated himself as he ran. George knew he should have taken the time to find that snake then and there. But they’d been headed for church and he hadn’t wanted to be late.
If something happened to Annie, he’d never forgive himself.
Just as she crossed into the underbrush she went down. She quickly sat back up but then didn’t move. Fear gripped his insides. He forced himself to slow as he got near. Though his lungs wanted to explode, he clamped his mouth shut to quiet his breathing. Grabbing the pistol at his hip, he pulled back the hammer and crept the last few feet as quietly as he could.
There. Less than two feet from her outstretched leg was the rattler coiled and ready to strike. Sending a prayer Heavenward, he aimed and squeezed the trigger.
Annie screamed. And from behind him, Molly screamed.
George raced to Annie’s side. The snake’s headless body flopped then stilled. George fell to his knees and gathered Annie into his arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and buried her face in his shirt. He pulled her head back to get a good look at her.
“You’re alright? Did it bite you?” He was frantic. He needed to know she was okay. She shook her head. “It didn’t bite you?”
“No,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, thank God.” He kissed her forehead. Then slid his arm under her legs and behind her back and lifted her up and out of the brush.
“My dearest Annie. I thought I’d lost you.”
Molly was beside him. “Is she alright?”
Double Wedding: Sweet Historical Mail Order Brides of Lowell Page 2