by Annie Lane
Truly, he didn’t mind too much. In fact, he knew it to be the right and honorable thing when he’d made the offer. Being that Thomas Ackerman was still in the honeymoon phase and of absolutely no good to anyone — with the exception of young Charlotte of course — he figured the man deserved a few days with his bride in order to enjoy all the trappings that marriage brought with it. And there were plenty of trappings.
Earl remembered it only too well.
The feelings and the urges and the deep, abiding love that passes between two people who have their whole lives stretched out before them. It seemed like just yesterday he was having those same feelings himself, holding his late wife Grace close to his chest and whispering in her ear. To Earl’s way of thinking, tears weren’t something a man should ever share with others, and for the most part he managed to blanket the constant ache in his chest so as not to burden anyone else.
Junior especially. He’d suffered enough in his short life.
Guilt consumed him from time to time, knowing full well that his son would grow up without a mother, but the solemn promise he’d made on Grace’s deathbed rang through loud and clear in his mind. Come hell or high water, as long as his feet were planted firmly on God’s good earth, he would never take another wife. That was just the way of things. He’d made a vow. And he intended to honor that vow every way he knew how.
Looking up beyond the paddock, Earl suddenly noticed a thin powdery trail lifting into the air as the wheels of a familiar wagon moved off into the distance. Louise Calhoun was headed over to the Ackerman ranch and Junior was racing toward him with an enormous smile on his face. He stood to his feet just in time to catch his son in his arms. Earl swung him around and around in the air until they were both so dizzy with the motion of it all that they stumbled back and collapsed into a heap on the ground.
Earl laughed and kissed the boy’s head, ruffling his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t nearly as long and unkempt as it used to be, but the habit seemed to stick and Junior sure didn’t mind none. “You’re home earlier than I expected. Did you have a good time at the diner?”
“Weeeeell...” That was the usual manner in which Junior started one of his long-winded, highfalutin stories and Earl braced himself to be sitting there a while until he made sense of it all. “You won’t believe what was waiting for me when I got there, Pa ... are ya ready if I tell you right now? Are you ready, Pa?”
Earl nodded.
After a beat, Junior jumped to his feet and started jumping around on the spot until a cloud of dry soil rose up all around him. “Carrot scones!”
Earl’s mouth fell open so far that his chin almost touched his chest. He slid himself back a few feet and scrambled to his feet so he was sitting on the stairs again. “Never in my life! I don’t believe a word of it! That can’t possibly be right?”
Junior giggled and bounced around some more. He knew his Pa was just toyin’ with him. Anything to make him happy. “Yes Sir ... Louise reckons they’ll make her rich if everyone takes to scoffing them down as fast as I did. She even gave me a few to bring home with me. There’s plenty for both of us.” He shoved his small hand deep into his pocket and pulled out four freshly baked scones. “Look Pa, carrots ... right there inside the scone. Who’d have thunk it?”
Earl chuckled. Nothing the boy liked more than carrots. He slowly stood back up. His muscles were strained, but nothing a long, hot soak in the tub wouldn’t fix. “Come inside now and wash up before you start your homework. Supper won’t be too far off. Beans alright with you?”
“Yes Sir, beans sound mighty good to me. Can we go check on Rosy later?”
Earl opened the door and then stood back so Junior could pass through in front of him. “Not tonight, boy. The Ackerman’s have ... uh, chores to finish up and they don’t want us disturbing them.”
“Won’t they be done with their chores by then?”
Earl smiled down at him and shook his head. “They won’t even be close.”
Junior nodded and smiled right on back at him, like he knew exactly what was going on, like he was as much of a man as his father ... but the fact of the matter was that he had no idea at all.
Chapter 4
Just over a month had passed since Charlotte Bates married her Thomas in the most spectacular of matrimonial displays she’d ever imagined, and she had officially become Mrs. Charlotte Lily Ackerman. Never once had she thought a love so profound could be possible in such a short span of time, but Charlotte’s heart fluttered and flittered and floated all around inside her chest the moment her thoughts drifted to Thomas.
She could hear him rustling about outside the kitchen door. He’d been out there all afternoon — sawing and stacking and then hammering the final few nails into the new stall he’d constructed for the piglets. Rosy was doing well since the birth, but her babies were growing up fast and things were getting a little crowded there in a barn built for just one. Her stomach might have shrunk, but her family had certainly expanded and it was time they all got some extra room to spread their hooves.
Charlotte grinned as she rummaged around in the pantry, trying to imagine what Thomas might look like out there in the sunshine. She pictured his strong muscles and handsome face. Oh, how she loved that man. Her heart was so full of that love that she didn’t even hear him walk through the kitchen door behind her.
“You look a hundred miles away, Mrs. Ackerman. Something on your mind?”
Charlotte jumped and spun around. Thomas had caught her day-dreaming, again. He slipped his feet out of his boots and placed them neatly beside the wall. The smug smile on his face told her he knew exactly what she was thinking about. “I’ve come to learn your expressions and those beautiful eyes tell me all I need to know. In my humble opinion, Mrs. Ackerman, I’d wager you’re not paying near enough attention to preparing my dinner, but instead anticipating what might be for dessert.”
Charlotte blushed at his words. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud, and in broad daylight too. “Trust me Mr. Ackerman ... there isn’t a humble bone in your body. Vanity is the devil’s work, nothing more, nothing less. It’s plain as day you’re well aware of your good looks, so trust me when I say my mind was most definitely on this tub of breadcrumbs and nothing else. I think we’ve spoken about this before, haven’t we?”
“I believe you might be right, my apologies. It’s just that...” Thomas was within arm’s reach now and he took the container and placed it back on the shelf behind Charlotte’s shoulder. Then he wrapped his hands around her tiny waist and drew her in toward him. The sweet smell of her hair filled his lungs. “I forget myself sometimes when you’re standing this close. I thought the view in this place was good before, but it’s certainly improved some since you arrived.”
Charlotte wanted to giggle, but she held it in. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”
“Oh, you have been ... in fact, there’s no doubt about it. Property values are sure to rise as a result. I might just keep you around after all.”
Charlotte gasped and slapped his arms away. She slipped out of his embrace and headed for the dining room. She’d already covered the table with a pretty white cloth and set a vase of flowers in the middle but she still needed to set the cutlery. “Is that all I am to you? An acquisition of sorts? Well, I’ll have you know that I...”
Thomas burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that his head fell back. He felt his stomach quiver beneath his shirt. He loved how just easily he could rile his wife up. She was so quick to go on the defensive and sometimes he couldn’t help but tease her a little so he might get a rise from her. “I’m only playing with you, Charlotte.” He walked across the room and planted a quick kiss on the tip of her nose before he pulled out a chair and took a seat at the head of the table. “Now, what’s for dinner? I’m as hungry as a bear outta hibernation.”
“Fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”
“Sounds wonderful. Do you need any help?”
Charlotte
stilled a moment, and stared back at him. As hard as she tried to maintain her tetchy demeanor, she couldn’t disguise the soft smile that slowly crept across her face. While she’d worked hard on preparing the meal, even baking a custard pudding for desert, she’d had it reasonably easy for most of the day. She’d redecorated a little, laundered some clothing and measured up for curtains in the bedroom — yet here was Thomas, after toiling and laboring all afternoon, still willing to lend his assistance. He was such a gentleman and Charlotte’s biggest regret was that she would never get the chance to meet the two women who’d raised him that way.
“No thank you, but it’s lovely of you to offer. I may need a hand tomorrow picking some corn though, if you don’t mind? I reckon about twenty large ears should just about do it.”
“Twenty ears! What on earth for?”
“Louise came by while you were out the back and left me a recipe for corn relish of all things. I’ll have to make quite a few practice batches just to be safe or I’ll never win first place.”
Thomas sat back in the seat and linked his fingers behind his head. “First place?”
“For the Thanksgiving Day Harvest Bazaar ... apparently there’s a huge contest being organized and first prize is a whole cooked turkey with stuffing and everything. Louise thinks I should enter. Me of all people? I’ve never made corn relish or even tasted it before! Mr. Grayn...”
She paused suddenly, mentally kicking herself for letting thoughts of the putrid man enter her head. She was simply going to say that Mr. Graynger was too stingy and mean to ever celebrate Thanksgiving at the orphanage, let alone purchase ingredients for relish. He’d rather see them eat dry bread than splurge on something he considered as nothing more than a treat.
But she didn’t feel like finishing the story now, and by the look on Thomas's face, he didn’t care to hear it, either.
Late one evening, a few nights back while the pair lay beside each other in bed, whispering and smiling and discussing all manner of subjects in the darkness, Thomas had sensed there was something not quite right. Charlotte had deliberately avoided the subject of her past from the time he’d met her and he knew he needed to get to the bottom of it before his imagination got the better of him. So he asked the one and only question that was left to ask.
“You’re amazing and beautiful and smart. How did it come about that you answered a letter for a mail order bride?”
Charlotte was shocked at first, but she knew that keeping secrets wasn’t good in a marriage and so with that thought still fresh in her mind, she took a deep breath and narrated to her new husband all the sordid details. She confessed of the lewd advances and the vulgar suggestions Mr. Graynger had made to her over the years. How he planned on marrying her the minute she turned eighteen, and how she dreaded that possibility. She told Thomas of how his letter couldn’t have come at a more opportune time, and as a result she’d managed to escape.
Thomas had been so furious that he’d lashed out and knocked over the bedside lamp, the wood splintering so terribly that it couldn’t be repaired either. The thought of someone treating Charlotte like that had set his blood boiling to the point he thought he might just jump out of bed and head to Seattle to throttle the man.
But after a few minutes of pacing the room half crazed, mumbling and cussing under his breath, he finally composed himself and scurried back under the covers, apologizing profusely for letting his temper get the better of him.
He held Charlotte close that night, stroking her hair and kissing her cheek and telling her over and over again that he loved her more than anything else in the whole wide world. It had been decided in the early hours of that morning, both of them together, like a married couple ought to do, that for the sake of harmony ... and their furniture ... Mr. Graynger’s name would never be spoken of again.
Now, Charlotte smiled sweetly, trying to cover her slip-up. “Anyway ... let’s just say that Thanksgiving Day fare isn’t really my specialty and leave it at that. Goodness knows how it might taste?”
Thomas closed his eyes and took a breath so deep it was like the earth was about to run out of air and he couldn’t get enough of the stuff. When he opened his eyes again, he looked at his wife with compassion. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens. Even if your corn relish tastes like cow dung and you poison the entire population of Conrad, I’ll still tell anyone willing to listen that it was the most delicious thing on the menu. You’ll make me proud no matter how it tastes.”
Charlotte smiled, completely satisfied, and gave her husband a big hug. For someone who had once so little to say, Thomas had certainly found his voice and she loved every moment of what she heard. They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the closeness and the peace they found in each other’s arms.
Chapter 5
The crisp September breeze rushed through Beth’s hair, tickling her cheeks as she darted along the sidewalk. She arrived at the post office just as Bert’s flipped the closed sign around. It scraped against the glass as it swung back and forth, but Bert recognized the set of pleading eyes looking back at him and he smiled instantly, never one to turn away a pretty lady.
He opened the door again and stepped aside. “Well howdy there, Miss Beth. I was just closing up, but you might as well come on in. We’ve got a stack of inventory to finish this evening so we won’t be heading home any time soon anyway. What can we do for you?”
“A parcel for Mistress Belle, please Bert.”
Bert ran his fingers through his thinning hair and then scratched the back of his neck with his withered fingers, wondering of such a parcel. There had been a huge delivery arrive just yesterday and he hadn’t had a chance yet to sort through it all so perhaps it was mixed up somewhere with that lot. “Won’t be a moment, Miss Beth and I’ll go find it for you. It should be out there. Why, we sure got through a lot of work today, but we didn’t get a chance to unpack the stock room.”
“Thank you, Bert. You don’t know how much I apprec...” She paused suddenly, her head tilting to one side. “We? Did you just say we? Who is we?” As far as Beth knew Bert always worked alone. He had certainly complained about it enough.
The tiniest of coughs suddenly caught Beth’s attention and she twisted around in one full circle. Startled some at the unexpected sound, peering over at her from behind the counter she found the sweetest set of eyes — big, blue and as round as a cart-wheel. She relaxed again, letting out a relieved breath and clutched at her heart. “I didn’t know you were there.”
The girl giggled nervously. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m Alice ... Alice Hamilton. I’m Mr. Hamilton’s niece and I’ve come to give him a helping hand. I’ll be staying upstairs until I can find somewhere more permanent to live but I’m liking it well enough and it’s more than comfortable.”
A head full of blonde ringlets bounced around her shoulders as she stretched forward and offered her hand in introduction, trying her hardest to disguise the Texan drawl she knew would only garner more questions later on. And questions were something Alice shied away from. Not that she was secretive by nature, quite the contrary in fact; but that was before.
Before her parents died. Before her father lost the family home to pay off his gambling debts. Before two strange men started following her. Before she packed her bags and fled from her steamy home town of Sulphur Springs to the cooler climate of the Pacific Northwest.
As far as Alice was concerned, her life seemed to fall into one of two categories ... before or after.
“Poor Uncle Bert. He’s been as busy as a hound in flea season with all the mail order bride business coming in. I don’t understand it myself, but I guess there must be a calling for it. I don’t ever plan on getting married, seems like an all around waste of time if you ask my opinion. You can’t trust anyone, not even your own husband I’d say.”
Alice surprised herself with the amount of words she’d just spoken. She cringed, realizing she’d have to be more careful in
future if she wanted to keep her before part of her past.
“I’m Elizabeth Edwards, but please call me Beth. I prefer it that way.” Beth didn’t miss Alice’s slight twang and wondered some of the girl’s origin. “You’re from down south? Texas?”
“Why, uh ... yes, that’s correct.”
“And tell me, how long do you plan on staying in Seattle?”
Alice felt her body stiffen. Her face turned serious all of a sudden and she started shuffling around the papers scattered on the desk before her. “Well you see, Beth ... I like to blow in and out like the wind. I’m not sure where I’ll plant my roots just yet, perhaps Chicago or Boston for that matter. But like I said, until the mail order bride correspondence slows down I’m here to help as long as I’m needed.”
Just then the bell chimed and, as if on cue, Mrs. Fredrick bowled through the door and marched right on up to the counter, completely disregarding the fact that the sign on the door said otherwise.
She wore a bright egg-yellow dress with a bustle that extended almost straight out from the back of her waist to support the profusion of drapery, frills and ribbons that hung to the floor. On top of her head was a matching velvet hat with lilac silk flowers spilling off to one side. Beth thought it to be the most unlikely of outfits but couldn’t stop gaping at the complexity of it all. Mrs. Fredrick simply smiled politely. “How are you this afternoon, Beth? Have you heard from Charlotte? I’m dying to know how she’s getting on in Montana.”
“No, no news yet, Mrs. Fredrick, but it’s not been all that long. I’d reckon she’s tied up with running the household and keeping Thomas happy.” Beth’s heart silently flopped down into her stomach. “I sure do miss her though.”
“We all do Beth; we all do ... now you’ll have to excuse me, I’m in a terrible hurry. I’ve got three brides leaving first thing tomorrow morning for Salt Lake City and there’s just so much to be done before the coach departs. Is there any more mail for me today, Alice?”