Patience_Bride of Washington
Page 3
Patience took in the town and registered each building they passed between darting glimpses at the man by her side. The town was bustling and looked to be a pleasant place. People they passed waved or smiled a greeting.
Mr. Kincaid was immaculately dressed, well mannered, and charming but she sensed no special attraction between them. When she’d placed her hand on his arm earlier, she hadn’t had the awareness of a connection as she believed would pass between her and her true love. Neither had that happened when he helped her into the buggy. Perhaps she was being foolish and expected too much too soon.
Although her parents’ marriage was a love match, she was aware many couples shared only similar goals and values. Some, not even that. She’d always assumed hers would be a union based on true love such as her parents shared. Although disappointed, she vowed to make the best of her situation. After all, she had a month to come to terms with marrying this man.
“This appears to be a nice town. Have you lived here long?”
“Almost thirty years. You’ll find it a nice place with enough amusements to keep you from getting bored.” He stopped the buggy in front of a frame home two stories tall.
The pale yellow house was trimmed in white with green shutters. A white picket fence enclosed the front yard and flowers lined the walk and bordered the wide front porch. A sign hanging from the porch eaves proclaimed Shaw’s Boarding House.
“What a lovely home. Thank you for arranging for me to stay in such a pleasing place, Mr. Kincaid.” Already she’d noticed how clear the air was here. Oh, if only Papa could live in a place like this, she was sure his cough would improve.
Her groom-to-be set the brake. “Please call me Andrew.” He climbed down and came around for her. “May I call you Patience?”
“Yes, of course.” She carried her valise and carryall because he hefted the trunk as if it weighed no more than a bag of flour. He might be as old—or older—than Papa, but he was definitely in good physical condition.
She hurried to open the gate then followed him to the house. He set the trunk near the door and turned the doorbell.
A plump woman with graying brown hair and a cheerful smile greeted them. “Why, you must be Patience Eaton. Come right in, dear. You go right on, Andrew. We’ll take care of Miss Eaton and her trunk.”
Andrew bowed slightly. “If suitable to you, Patience, I’ll call for you at ten tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to rest and get a night’s sleep.”
“That will be perfect. Thank you.”
He strode down the walk to the buggy.
Mrs. Shaw took the valise from her and ushered her inside. “I’ve your room all ready. You’ve missed lunch but I’ve put a tray in your room. Supper is at six sharp.”
Patience followed the landlady up the stairs and into a room. Frilly white curtains admitted a breeze at the wide windows. Wallpaper was pale green covered in darker green vines. A quilt in green and yellow covered the bed.
She turned slowly, taking in all the details. “This room is lovely.”
Mrs. Shaw beamed. “I’m glad you approve. You’ll probably want a bath. You share the bathing room at the end of the hall with the other women on this floor. If the room’s taken and you’ve a need, there’s a chamber pot under the bed. Of course the pitcher and bowl will save time washing your face and hands.”
“A bath after days on the train sounds wonderful.”
“I usually ask my boarders not to dawdle, but I’m sure you’d like a good long soak today. The others are at work, so no one will be inconvenienced. Please don’t have the water over four inches deep. Your towel is on the washstand and you’ll need to bring it back here. I only furnish each woman two towels a week.”
“That will be fine. I’ll remember to be considerate of the other boarders. How many others are there?”
“Four. I’ve only the four rooms to let, but two girls are sharing temporarily. They’re all nice and I’m sure you’ll become friends in no time.”
Patience gestured to the tray on a small table. “And thank you for the tray.”
When Mrs. Shaw had gone, Patience walked over to the narrow dressing table. After removing her hat and jacket and unbuttoning the top button of her blouse, she poured water from the ewer into a lovely china basin. Soaping and rinsing her hands, she peered into the mirror and examined her face.
With a slight shake of her head at the pale image with sagging hairstyle, she dried her hands and returned the towel to the holder. She sat in the chair near the table and removed the tea towel from the food. In addition to a pot of tea that was still hot, she had a thick roast beef sandwich on crusty bread, sliced pickles, and an apple tart. As soon as she’d eaten, she gathered clean clothes and went in search of the bathing room.
She’d cleaned indoor bathing rooms in two of her jobs but had never used one. Her family had to use a large galvanized tub they brought into the kitchen on Saturday evening. This room had a large white oval tub with claw feet and a plug in the center.
A sink sat in one corner and a toilet in the other. She had no idea where the waste and excess water went. For now she didn’t want to think of anything troublesome or mystifying. She turned the knobs and water came out a spout right into the tub.
When she’d filled to four inches—marked in paint on the side of the tub—she climbed into the water and sighed. The temperature was only tepid instead of hot, but she didn’t mind. Imagine not having to fill pails of water and then empty the tub the same way. She rested her head on the rim and soaked away her fatigue.
What a lovely experience. She could hardly wait to write her parents and Mercy. As soon as she went back to her room, she’d do just that.
***
Andrew drove the buggy to the back of Marianne Hauser’s home. He knocked at the kitchen entrance before he opened the door without waiting for anyone to answer.
Marianne hurried to greet him. “Did you pick up the bride?”
“She’s at the boarding house.” He clasped her hands then put his arm around the charming widow and walked by her side into the parlor.
Marianne sat on the sofa. “Tell me, what do you think of her?”
He took the seat beside her. “She’ll do nicely. Attractive and I believe she has spirit. She’s well-spoken if you overlook her dreadful Massachusetts accent. Her father insisted she was well-educated by him and had a good business head. According to him, she can do accounts, secretarial work, and is proficient in five languages if needed to talk to the workers.”
“What will Stone think, though?” Marianne appeared worried.
“He’ll be mad as a wolf whose prey escaped. Don’t fret, dear. This will work out for us.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Andrew. He’s so opposed to anyone replacing his mother.”
“But he’s a man with needs. Surely he can understand I have the same urges. His bad experience has him painting all women with the same brush. Patience will change his attitude.” He pulled her into his arms.
She cuddled up to him. “I hope so. I’m tired of waiting for you, Andrew my love. I want the world to know we’re together.”
“They will, dear, they will.” He kissed her passionately. “Shall we discuss this further in your boudoir?”
With a coquettish giggle, she took his hand and tugged him toward the stairs.
Chapter Three
After her refreshing bath, Patience returned to her room relieved to wear clean clothes for the first time in days. Although her wardrobe was small, she took pleasure from how well-made her dresses were. Mama had a friend who received Godey’s magazine and loaned her copies. For their better dresses, the women in the Eaton household copied the designs painstakingly.
Most of her sparse collection of clothing was for menial work in the factory or the string of jobs she’d had since. Except for two skirts and shirtwaists, she’d left them behind. As the wife of a successful businessman, Andrew Kincaid would expect her to wear the latest styles.
B
esides, this was her new life and she wanted to forget the series of disastrous and embarrassing incidents she’d endured since the factory burned. Starting now, she’d force herself to forget those times and concentrate on blending in with her groom’s plans. Within reason, of course, for she had no intention of becoming a doormat for anyone.
After penning her letters, Patience took the serving tray and dishes from her meal downstairs. “I’ve a couple of letters to mail. Can you direct me to the post office?”
Mrs. Shaw took the tray. “Nice of you to bring this down for me. When you go out the gate, turn left and go one block, then turn right for two blocks. You’ll see the sign next to the mercantile.”
“Thank you. I’ll enjoy looking over the town.” With her letters in her purse, she set out.
Blue skies welcomed her and a faint breeze brushed her skin. The homes of assorted sizes she passed were well-kept and appealing and people she met smiled a greeting. She was glad she’d donned her blue dress, a good color for her hair.
As she left the residential section and strolled by businesses, she was happy to see Destiny’s downtown included a milliner and a dress shop. Not that she’d ever bought clothing from a seamstress because she and her mother and sister were excellent needlewomen. Still, she’d always secretly yearned for a dress made especially for her by someone else.
When she spotted the post office, she went in and introduced herself. “I’m staying at Mrs. Shaw’s boarding house.”
The smiling postmaster took her letters. “Welcome to Destiny. I’m George Hammond. Have you come to our town for a particular reason?”
She pushed a few of her coins toward him. “I’m to marry Mr. Kincaid in a month.”
Surprise registered on the man’s face and his hand hovered over her payment for a second too long. “Best wishes. Appears to me he’s a lucky man.”
Why did bitterness tinge the postmaster’s voice? “Is something wrong with Mr. Kincaid that I should know?”
A smile split the man’s broad face. “Not at all. You’ll see the elder Kincaid, Andrew, is a fine man and a hard worker. Built his orchard from a small time operation to one of the largest in the state. His son has worked hard in the business too.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief. “That’s good. You had me worried for a minute.”
He ducked his head. “Sorry. You take care now.”
Patience stepped aside for the next customer and left the small post office. Although her funds were limited, she wandered into the mercantile. Browsing was free and she enjoyed being able to take her time. She stopped at the fabric and thread and perused the colors available, pleased to see a nice variety.
Two women approached her. They looked like a mother and daughter. Each was petite with blond hair and wore the latest fashions.
The youngest said, “I’m Virginia Winfield and this is my mother. We were in the post office and heard you say you’re going to marry Mr. Kincaid.”
“I’m pleased to meet you. I’m engaged to him. Until the wedding, I’m staying at Mrs. Shaw’s boarding house.”
Mrs. Winfield sniffed. “I don’t understand how you can consider the son.”
Patience blinked and didn’t bother to correct the women’s mistake. She was uncomfortable listening to gossip but wondered if this was something she should know.
Virginia pursed her lips and said, “He’s the worst sort of cad. Stone by name and stone for a heart.”
In spite of her curiosity, the sense of being disloyal to her groom engulfed Patience. She nodded at each woman. “I’ll reserve judgment until I meet him tomorrow. Until then, nice to have met you.” Patience turned and left the store.
Drat her luck anyway, meeting those two when she was enjoying a pleasant outing. She wondered what tidbit of rumor they were dying to tell her. Bad enough her groom was as old as her own father, now she was intrigued about his son. She would like to know what the women were referring to but Andrew Kincaid deserved her trust. After all, he was to be her groom.
Which raised another problem. She hoped she’d come to hold him in high regard even though there was no instant attraction to him. He was a handsome and a courteous man. Papa had good intentions when he sent her here. Did he have any idea of the position he’d placed her in?
No, of course not. He’d only planned to insure she had a secure life. She was willing to go through with the marriage based on that. Since Andrew was prosperous, perhaps he would allow her to send a bit of money home to ease her parents’ way.
Was Mercy meeting similar problems? She hoped her sister would write soon. With a sigh, she strode in to the boarding house.
Three women sat in the parlor varying in age from a little younger than her to middle-aged. She stopped in and greeted them.
“I’m Patience Eaton. May I join you? I’ve just arrived here from Massachusetts.” She took a seat at one end of the sofa.
A pretty brunette with turquoise eyes smiled at her. “I’m Agnes Farrell. I came here from Yakima to work for Sutton and Sutton Attorneys.”
The stern older woman was also a brunette with her hair pulled into a bun tight enough that it must tug at her face. “I’m Jenny Phifer and I teach the higher grades at school.” She gestured to the petite redhead with sparkling blue eyes sitting at her right, “Harriett Oliver here teaches the younger children.”
“Oh, how nice, my father is a teacher.”
The door opened and a blonde of indeterminate age came in. “Hello, I’m Dessie O’Hara and I work at the mercantile. Saw you come into the store but I was helping someone and didn’t get to meet you.”
Patience repeated her name and where she was from.
Dessie adjusted her dress over her ample bosom. “Saw those Winfield women chatting you up. Spiteful witches they are so don’t believe a thing they tell you. Especially don’t ever tell them anything you don’t want twisted and spread all over town.”
“Thank you, Dessie. I’d figured as much about them but I appreciate your warning. I plan to make my home here and don’t want to get off to a bad start.” She glanced at each of the other women. “Now, tell me about Destiny. It appears such a lovely town.”
***
The next morning at ten, Patience dressed in her best day dress of metallic blue and cream wool plaid trimmed with a draping cream lace collar and small edging of the same at the cuffs. A six-inch wide matching blue ribbon sash fell almost to the hem. Her empire straw hat included the same ribbon artfully formed into flowers. She carried a parasol the same shade as the dress and trimmed with a wide flounce of cream lace.
The other boarders had gone to work and Mrs. Shaw and the woman who helped her were busy elsewhere in the house. The urge to pace the parlor almost overwhelmed Patience. Instead, she sat on the sofa and reviewed of all the questions she had for her fiancé.
When Andrew saw her, his face broke into a wide smile. “Ah, you’re ready on time and look refreshing as the sunrise this morning. Shall we go?”
She took his arm. “I’m looking forward to seeing your home and business.”
He helped her into the buggy. As they drove through Destiny, Andrew pointed out businesses and homes of his friends. Soon they were out of town and she saw what must be apple trees on either side of the road.
“I’m fortunate to be here when the orchards are in bloom. The air is so fragrant. Are these your trees?” she asked.
“Kincaid Orchards begin at the upcoming crossroad. If you focus ahead on your right, you’ll see my home—soon to be yours, too—in a clearing. My first wife and I added on to it as we were able.”
“I see it now.” Patience leaned forward and her heart leapt to her throat at the idea of living there. “What a lovely house. Did you choose the color or did she?”
The large two-story home of pale gray appeared finer than any she’d ever seen, even considering those in which she’d briefly worked. Black shutters framed the windows and bright white covered the other trim. As they drew closer, she could see t
he front door was dark red.
Andrew chuckled. “I left all the decorating to her. You may change whatever you wish, of course. All I want is a comfortable place to enjoy with family.”
“That’s kind and very generous of you. The outside is perfect as it is.”
“You’ll find it’s a bit higgledy-piggledy inside. Our son has a suite of rooms at one side so he has privacy.”
“How old is he?’
“Twenty-eight, and he’s a good-looking man if I do say so myself. He’s a hard worker, too. I’m lucky that he plans to take over the business when I retire. I’ve already let him have a good deal of control.”
Patience combed her mind for a response. She should say something but she was reeling from the news that her soon-to-be stepson was five years older than she. What an awkward arrangement. What would he think of his father and her marrying? She didn’t imagine he’d be pleased.
Andrew guided the horses onto the lane to his home. He put on the brake. “I’ll give you a brief tour and then we’ll have our noon meal before we go to the office.”
He helped her alight and they walked up the steps onto a wide wrap-around porch which had an assortment of wooden chairs and a swing. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a man leading the horse, still hitched to the buggy, around the corner.
Andrew gestured to the man. “That’s Harvey Schmidt, who lives over the carriage house. Works as gardener and takes care of the horses and carriage.”
As they climbed the steps, she gazed at the swing. “You must sit out here in the evenings.”
“In good weather we do. Not as much since my wife died, but I still enjoy watching the sunset over the orchard.”
Patience was a bit lost, but he gestured to what she thought was west.
Inside the house, Patience was overwhelmed to learn she’d be living in a house this large. She could hardly wait to write her parents and sister. She hoped Mercy was as fortunate.
“This is a charming home and so inviting.”
“Glad you think so. Downstairs we have the front parlor, dining room, kitchen, library, and a back parlor for the family. You’ll meet Emily Potter, our housekeeper. She has a bedroom and sitting room off the kitchen near the screened in porch and pantry. Annie Sinclair, a girl from town, comes in to help with the cleaning.” He took her hat and parasol from her and put them on the hall hat tree.