A Mistaken Match

by Whitney Bailey

  “Yes. And that’s her brother, George,” said Delia. Sadie’s sibling was unmistakable. He had the same dark hair and delicate features as his sister, along with the same serious expression. The older child appeared to have brushed his own hair, but his clothes were in need of a good scrubbing. He looked to be about seven and attempted to trip James as he ran. “Those are two of your neighbors.”

  Now Ann knew why the name Schneider sounded familiar. She looked around, expecting an impending introduction. “Where is Mr. Schneider?”

  “Over there.” Delia pointed to a man sitting slouched in the shade of a tree, far removed from both the children and the other picnickers. Despite the revelry around him, his head remained down turned and his hat was pulled so low only his chin was visible. A casual passerby might assume he was merely snoozing after the large meal. The dark brown hip flask jutting from his jacket pocket suggested otherwise.

  “James said his wife died.”

  “At the end of last summer. He took it very hard.”

  “Is he drunk?”

  “Either that or sleeping off his drinking from last night.”

  The incongruity of the scene unnerved Ann. A drunkard who brought his children to church but couldn’t be bothered to leave the bottle at home. “Does he come for the food?”

  Delia shrugged. “For the past year, I’ve never even seen him eat.”

  “Why come at all then?”

  She sighed. “My mother visited Mrs. Schneider many times during her illness. She said toward the end, Mrs. Schneider made her husband promise he would bring the children to church every Sunday. If not for that promise, and my mother’s bearing witness to it, I’m sure he wouldn’t be here.”

  Mr. Schneider pulled the flask from his jacket and took a discreet swig. Ann turned away.

  The crowd around them thinned.

  “It looks like most people are leaving,” Delia remarked. “I need to catch up with my family.” She hugged Ann goodbye and joined a cluster of tall, dark-haired children who could only be her siblings.

  James sidled up to Ann. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded. It wasn’t entirely true. The stream of introductions had wearied her, but the friendly faces had warmed her heart.

  James headed toward the food table, and Ann followed. The few remaining dishes had been scraped clean. “All of the food today was delicious,” she remarked.

  “Almost all of it.” He passed the dish of johnnycake to her. Only a tiny sliver had been removed.

  “Someone enjoyed it.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Every week someone takes a piece to be polite.”

  Ann had filled her plate until it nearly overflowed, but it hadn’t occurred to her to try James’s dish.

  They walked side by side to the buggy, and Ann breathed a sigh of relief to see they were one of the last to leave. No more questions from strangers, at least not today.

  “This was a beautiful day,” he said, as the buggy drew away from the church. “I hope you enjoyed yourself.” A contented smile played on his lips.

  “Everyone was very friendly.”

  “I’m sure they were all dying to meet the girl who came all the way from England to marry me.”

  “I thought you said no one knew you’d sent for a bride.”

  “They didn’t, but it’s impossible to keep a secret in New Haven. Everyone talks to everyone, and nothing this gossipworthy has happened in months. If you think everyone’s excitable now, I can’t imagine what people will be saying after you leave. Too bad you’ll miss it.”

  Ann studied his face. “Doesn’t it bother you? To have everyone talking about you?” She couldn’t imagine James was the type who liked being the center of attention.

  Not like William. Ann scolded herself the moment the thought came into her head. She’d promised herself not to think of him.

  James shrugged. “I expected as much when I contacted the agency. After all, you’re the first mail-order bride any of them have ever met. But maybe that will work in my favor. After you leave, I’ll tell everyone you were sent to me on a trial basis.”

  “What a horrid thing to tell them!”

  James stared at her for a beat before bursting into laughter.

  “Oh.” Her face grow hot. “You were teasing...weren’t you?”

  “Yes, I was joking. But does it matter? Whatever I tell them, you’ll be long gone by then. I doubt you’ll even think back on your time in New Haven. Not with all those new jewels to distract you.”

  Ann’s middle tightened. She doubted she could ever forget James or her stay in New Haven. She was also certain he wouldn’t be making jokes if he knew what really waited for her, penniless and alone in a foreign country.

  “Those children you were playing with? The Schneiders? They certainly like you.”

  James’s face broke into a boyish grin. “George and Sadie. I wish I could visit them at home, but Hal Schneider won’t answer the door. It’s a wonder he brings them to church every Sunday.”

  “He made a promise to his wife.”

  James’s head snapped toward her. “How on earth would you know that?”

  “Delia told me. Her mother witnessed the oath.”

  James pursed his lips and nodded. “Margaret Ludlow’s holding him to his word? Well, that explains quite a bit.”

  “I only spoke with her for a short while on the train, but I imagine she can be very persuasive.”

  James chuckled. “I can’t disagree. That woman can persuade almost anyone of anything. She could probably sell one your lacy things for twenty dollars if she put her mind to it.”

  “Do you really see visitors from Columbus in New Haven?” She feared Delia’s optimism over her handkerchiefs selling to wealthy tourists might be well intended but misplaced.

  “Sure. Frederick’s family owns a furniture store next to their mill. People travel here from bigger cities to order beds and tables and the like.”

  “They would travel all the way here for something they can purchase at home?” she marveled. Her mistress in the Atherton house traveled once a year to Paris to procure clothes and furnishings, but Ann couldn’t imagine New Haven as the cultural epicenter of handkerchiefs and fine furniture.

  “People think the craftsmanship is better, I suppose.”

  “Is it?”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter? They’re convinced of it. If Frederick slapped his family’s name on a pile of kindling and called it a desk, someone would pay top dollar.”

  Ann roiled at the irony. People flocked to New Haven to buy quality furniture when they could likely find items just as good to purchase at home. New Haven positively teemed with eligible young ladies, but James had dismissed courting any of them in favor of sending away for a girl he’d never met. Who or what had convinced him a girl from England would make a better bride?

  Chapter Seven

  On Thursday morning, James came in from his chores to find Ann plating a breakfast tray for Uncle Mac. Two eggs waited for him on the table. He sat down and took a cautious bite.

  “These eggs are perfect,” he marveled.

  She set a cup of coffee beside him. “Thank you.”

  “How many did you make before you got these two?”

  Her pink cheeks darkened and she lifted her delicate chin in annoyance. “If you must know—three.”

  James chuckled. “Where are they now?”

  “In my stomach.” She rubbed her middle. “Oof. I’m not particularly fond of eggs anymore.”

  He suppressed the urge to laugh again. “I’d imagine.”

  Ann left with Uncle Mac’s tray and returned wearing her hat and gloves.

  “Will you be changing before we leave for town?” she asked.

  He took another
bite of eggs and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know I told you last night we could go to town today. But a cow’s about to calf and it looks like a hard one for her. I can’t leave.”

  “Oh.” Her disappointment was obvious. “Tomorrow, then?”

  James shrugged. “I don’t know. I left the farm two afternoons last week and now I’m behind. I know those lacy things are important to you, but I can’t risk my crop on the chance some woman from Columbus will pay ten dollars for the privilege of dabbing her nose with one.”

  He still couldn’t understand why she cared so much about this business deal with Mrs. Williams. She might as well hold on to the fancy handkerchiefs and pass them out to the new high-society friends she was sure to make once she met her intended match.

  Ann crinkled her nose and tossed a dish towel at his head. He caught it and used it to wipe the corners of his mouth. Her full lips pressed together in amusement.

  “May I go by myself?”

  “Never thought of that. I expect you can. I’ll hitch the wagon for you.” He pushed back his chair and moved to stand.

  Ann gestured for him to remain seated. “I don’t want to take the wagon.”

  “Alright. You can take the buggy.”

  Her cheeks colored. “I’ve never driven a wagon before. Or a buggy. I’ve never even ridden a horse.”

  “Never? How is that possible?”

  She threw up her hands. “Orphans weren’t taught to ride, and then I entered service. A maid would never have access to her employer’s horse or buggy.”

  “How do you propose you’ll get to town?”

  “I’ll walk.”

  “It’s five miles—one way!”

  “I’d best be going then, shan’t I?”

  James stared. This fragile-looking girl was full of surprises. He hadn’t even had a chance to answer before she strode past him and out the front door. James scrambled to his feet.

  “Wait,” he called from the doorway. “You know the way, don’t you?”

  Ann stopped at the bottom of the porch steps and cocked her blond head. “I believe I’ll take a right at the end of the drive and follow this road straight into the center of town.”

  James laughed at the absurdity of his own question. “What I meant was...” He struggled for some reason to detain her and came up empty. “Have a safe journey.”

  “Is there anything I can retrieve for you in town?”

  He plowed both hands through his hair. “No, I think we’re... I’m fine.”

  “I’ll see you later this afternoon?”

  “If gypsies don’t accost you along the way.”

  Ann’s eyes widened in alarm.

  “I’m only teasing,” he added quickly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I knew that. I’ll be back to prepare dinner.”

  James returned to his morning chores but couldn’t shake his uneasiness at the thought of Ann walking alone. New Haven wasn’t dangerous, but she was unfamiliar with the town. He hurried through the remainder of his work and avoided looking at the weeds in the nearest field. By the time he’d changed his shirt, checked on Uncle Mac and hitched the buggy, more than half an hour had gone by.

  He expected to catch up with her quickly, but three miles passed with no sight of her form in the distance. James flicked the reins and Old Harriet labored from a trot to a canter. He was a quarter of a mile from the welcome-to-New-Haven sign before he caught a glimpse of Ann’s light blue dress and straw hat.

  James called out once he deemed Ann close enough to hear him.

  “In need of a ride, miss?”

  Ann’s head spun around, a crease of worry on her forehead. The crease dissolved and a smile lit her face when she saw it was him.

  “I see you changed your mind.”

  James slowed the buggy and she swung herself onto the seat before he could get down to help. He marveled at how her appearance remained unchanged in the last hour. The healthy glow in her cheeks was the only hint she’d walked nearly five miles at a lightning pace. She didn’t even sound out of breath.

  “I decided I had some business in town, after all. Frederick’s been pestering me to take on some extra work at the mill later this summer. Figured I’d talk to him about it.”

  Her eyebrows rose in suspicion, but she didn’t question him. Instead, she chewed her lip and played with the cuff of her sleeve.

  “Would you consider accompanying me when I meet with Mrs. Williams?”

  His heart skipped a beat.

  “You’d like me to be there?”

  “The truth is I’m terribly nervous. It might settle my nerves if I don’t meet with her alone. There’s always a chance Delia won’t be there.”

  “Oh. Yes, of course I’ll join you.” What did she have to be nervous about? More important, why did he feel disappointed by her reason for wanting him near?

  “Will you have time to meet with Frederick after?”

  “Who?” He hadn’t considered meeting with Frederick until the moment Ann boarded the buggy. Until then his only thoughts were of finding her. “Oh, Frederick! I can see him anytime.”

  “Splendid!” Her shoulders relaxed and she folded her hands on her lap. “I could use a friendly face.”

  She considered him a friendly face. James’s chest warmed at the thought. He could certainly be friends with Ann, couldn’t he? Just friends.

  When they entered New Haven Dressmakers together, Delia grasped Ann’s hand in a businesslike handshake and winked at both of them.

  “Mrs. Williams?” Delia called out to the figure behind the small counter. James knew the older woman had been watching them from the moment they entered, but now she feigned interest in a ledger book. Not until Ann took a few steps forward did she look up and let her reading glasses hang from a slim gold chain around her neck.

  “You must be Miss Cromwell.” Mrs. Williams squeezed her large frame out from behind the counter. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you. Ardelia here showed me a piece of your work last week. It’s breathtaking. I’m so glad you’re interested in selling your work in my shop.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you. Do you know my friend, James McCann?”

  Mrs. Williams glanced at him. “Of course I know James. Everyone knows James.”

  She turned her attention back to Ann. Mrs. Williams appeared no more immune to Ann’s magnetic beauty than anyone else.

  “Do you mind if he joins us for our talk?” Ann asked.

  Mrs. Williams’s head drew back, as if startled by the question, but she nodded in the affirmative.

  “I’ll look after the shop,” Delia announced before taking a seat behind the counter.

  The older woman directed them to a semicircle of cream tufted chairs at the back of the shop. James cringed at the thought of sitting on the flawless fabric. He’d changed his shirt but not his pants after mucking out the barn. It might be best to stand. He crossed his arms and tried not to back into yet another dress form.

  Ann floated onto her chair as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She’d confessed her nerves to him, but they weren’t showing. Her every movement was graceful and poised, and her accent had taken on a new cadence the moment they arrived. The effect on the older woman was obvious. She gravitated to Ann like a fly to honey.

  Ann produced a plump package from her bag and set it on the low table before them. One by one, she slipped each handkerchief from its tissue cocoon, and Mrs. Williams stated its price as assuredly as someone might state its color.

  “Leaves and roses. Ten and a half dollars. Fans and scallops. Ten dollars.”

  Ann’s calm demeanor remained constant throughout the meeting, but James sensed her excitement. She sat as straight as an arrow with her delicate hands folded in her lap, yet each time Mrs. Williams loo
ked down at a handkerchief, Ann discreetly caught his eye. The first time James winked at her, and her cheeks turned crimson. The next time she looked at him, he simply smiled and nodded.

  After the appraisals had been made, Mrs. Williams sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her ample belly.

  “Now, Miss Cromwell. I have one more opportunity for you. It may be weeks before we sell one of these exquisite pieces—”

  “Did you say weeks?” Ann interrupted.

  “One never can tell with these sorts of specialty items. But I have work you can start today, and I can promise payment in full when it’s complete.”

  For the first time, Ann’s mask of confidence showed a crack. She leaned forward and her eyes widened.

  “I’ll do any work you have.”

  She must be bored out of her mind to take on all this work. He felt foolish for having imagined she enjoyed being his houseguest. Her eagerness to occupy her time with anything but housework was sobering.

  “I have a customer—” Mrs. Williams scooted forward on her chair “—who is to be married in a few short months. She came in last week for a fitting and I showed her your lace. She thought it was beautiful and has requested some for her wedding gown.”

  James didn’t have to guess who she was talking about.

  “You want her to make lace for Priscilla Vollrath,” he stated.

  Mrs. Williams paused and craned her neck back at James. “That’s right.”

  “Who’s Priscilla Vollrath?”

  “The only daughter of our dear and honorable Judge Vollrath,” Mrs. Williams explained. “She is used to fine things and has exquisite taste.”

  She was also one of the most vain and insufferable women James had the misfortune of knowing. There couldn’t be a more difficult task in all the world than pleasing Priscilla. He stifled a laugh at the thought of Ann looking for a pleasant diversion by taking on this assignment.