Teddy laughed again, as Brett knew he would. Teddy was a good sort.
“Too bad. I could have drawn a picture of it for the paper.” Teddy frowned then. “We? Who went fishing with you?”
Brett shrugged slightly, knowing Teddy would soon know. “My new neighbors.”
With his frown growing so deep his dark brows met above his round glasses, Teddy asked, “Neighbors? Do you mean the woman I just met? The one with Josiah?”
“Yes. Fiona Goldberg and her sons, Rhett and Wyatt.”
“Where’d she come from?” Teddy asked. “Josiah wasn’t very forthcoming with that information.”
“Ohio. Seems Josiah ordered her for himself. Claims she isn’t one of the brides ordered by the Betterment Committee.”
“What? The Betterment Committee? You mean she’s one of the brides?”
“No, I just said Josiah ordered her for himself.”
“But she is a bride?”
“Yes. For Josiah.”
“That doesn’t seem right. We’re all supposed to have a choice of every bride—or they were to have a choice of all of us. Now he’s changing the rules. Bringing in one just for himself?”
Brett shrugged again. “That’s Josiah for you.”
“Yeah, well, I know plenty of men who won’t like it, and they’ll tell Josiah just what they think about it. I’ve got half a mind to write—” Teddy stopped and then set both hands on the boards and leaned a bit closer. “I guess we can’t say much about it, can we?”
Brett had already figured plenty of men would speak their mind, but something about the gleam in Teddy’s eye had him asking, “Why do you say that?”
“Because of what you had me do,” Teddy answered. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper. “Your ma must be one fast worker. She replied to your telegram. Says to expect your new bride to arrive midweek.”
A shiver shot up Brett’s spine as he glanced at the slip of paper Teddy handed him.
Chapter Seven
The disappointment inside was hard to hide, yet Fiona had to hide it. Bury it. She’d gotten used to doing that over the years, but it never got easier. “You have a lovely home, Josiah,” she said, biting the tip of her tongue. It was a lie, and lying would never come easy for her. Not that it should, but try as she might, she hadn’t been able to find anything about Josiah’s home that was welcoming. Parts of it might be considered lovely. Just not to her eyes. She’d hoped for a house, with a yard for the boys to play in and room for a garden, perhaps a few chickens...
“As you can see, I take pride in everything I own and will expect the same from you and your children,” he replied.
She withheld a sigh as she glanced around, hoping things would begin to look more hospitable. They were on the second floor of the building. The lower level held his office and a large room he called the waiting room—for the customers of his law practice. There had also been a narrow back room that ran the width of the house. It held little more than a small woodstove and the staircase that had brought them up here. There were two large rooms. The one they stood in was a parlor of sorts. It housed a sofa and a couple of stuffed chairs and several small tables holding glass lamps and other breakable items that made her nervous. Children had accidents, they broke things, no matter how careful they tried to be.
The other room held a large bed and dresser. The furniture was attractive, she suspected to some anyway. It was made of dark wood and the cushions were covered with thick black leather like those downstairs in his office and waiting room. The walls were bare, other than a large mirror in the bedroom and a painting, of a woman lying upon a rock with the wind blowing her hair and dress about, that hung over the sofa in the parlor.
There were curtains over the windows, long burgundy-colored drapes that fell to the floor and were tied back with gold ropes. Both windows faced the road and she couldn’t understand the reason for the balcony on the outside of the windows. There was no door to walk out of, and in her mind she could see Wyatt and Rhett climbing out the windows to explore that additional area.
“I see you take pride in your surroundings,” she said, walking across the room to take another look out the window. “It’s very tidy and clean.”
She leaned over slightly as Rhett tugged on her skirt.
He’d been looking out the window and quietly asked, “Where will Wyatt and I sleep?”
She’d been wondering the same thing, and hoping Josiah had an appropriate answer, she turned to cast him an enquiring gaze.
His smile did seem sincere as he said, “I’ll show you.”
She allowed the boys to precede her as they followed Josiah into the bedroom. On the far side of the room, next to the dresser, he reached up and pulled on a rope hanging from the ceiling.
A small set of ladderlike stairs descended to the floor, and Josiah waved for the boys to climb the steps. She followed.
Josiah didn’t, but he did say, “I’ll ask Jackson Miller if he has time this week to put in a floor. Don’t want them falling through the ceiling.”
The boys had stopped on the top steps, and peeking over their heads, she understood why. It was not only dark, it was hotter than an oven. “They’ll need a window or two too,” she said. Until that happened she wouldn’t be able to tell if the area would make a sufficient bedroom or not.
“I’ll have to think about that,” Josiah said. “Don’t want too much heat escaping during the winter months.”
The stairs were too narrow for her to turn around, so she backed down them and assisted Rhett as he did so, as well. She refrained from assisting Wyatt. There was already enough disgust in his eyes.
“Speaking of heat,” she said to Josiah, “is the stove downstairs the only one you have?”
“Yes, it puts out sufficient heat,” he answered.
That stove was not only short, barely up to her knees, it was too narrow to hold much more than a coffeepot. “What do you cook on?”
Josiah frowned slightly. “I take all my meals at the hotel, as do most of the single men in town.”
“Isn’t that expensive?” she asked.
“No...” He glanced at her and the boys. “I see your point. It wasn’t expensive for one, but it will be for all of us to eat there every day.”
Understanding an unmarried man may not have thought of such things, she offered, “I can cook on the one downstairs, baking will be a bit of a challenge, but I’m sure I can figure something out.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“We’ll need a table and chairs, though, and perhaps a cupboard or two.”
“I’ll talk to Jackson about that too,” he said. “But I must warn you, I don’t like clutter.”
That was obvious. There certainly wasn’t any clutter. Nor was there anything to clutter. Sparse was a better description for his home. “Have you lived here long?” she asked.
“Five years, ever since moving out here from Ohio.”
“Do you plan on building a house?”
“Build a house? No. Why would I? If I did that, I’d have to travel to my office every day, and that would make no sense.” He once again pulled the lapels of his suit coat together—an act he seemed to do rather consistently. “As the mayor, I need to be accessible at all times, and as a lawyer, clients need to know where to find me.”
“I’m sure they do,” she answered, once again holding in a sigh. Something she found herself doing rather consistently!
“I’m hot,” Wyatt said. “Can Rhett and I go outside?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Josiah had spoken at the same time she had, making her ask, “Why can’t they?”
“Because they can’t be running around town.”
“They won’t go
running around town, but surely they can go out back—”
“There’s nothing out there but the outhouse and the railroad tracks, and they can’t ever play by those tracks. Trains roll by here every day.”
She stopped herself from saying they couldn’t remain holed up inside all day, mainly because she’d been about ready to include herself in the statement. Furthermore, Josiah was already walking toward the steps that led downstairs.
“We might as well go to the hotel and eat,” he said.
She waved for the children to follow him. Rhett did so, but Wyatt stopped beside her.
“Our place in Ohio was a whole lot better than this,” he said.
It had been. They’d had two bedrooms and a parlor and a kitchen complete with a stove. And a yard, with trees and grass for the boys to play in. It hadn’t truly been theirs. It had belonged to someone else. Yet it had felt more like home than this one might ever do.
Chiding herself for having such uncharitable thoughts, she whispered, “Can we give it a chance? Maybe it won’t be all that bad.”
Wyatt opened his mouth but then closed it again. “Yes, we can give it a chance.”
As he started down the steps, she smiled, glad he was at least willing to try. She also knew why. Because of whatever Brett had said to him this morning. Her heart took a slight tumble then. The entire time they’d been exploring Josiah’s home, she’d purposely refused to allow herself to compare anything about it to Brett’s. Or him to Josiah. However, that was getting exceedingly hard.
The four of them, her and Josiah walking in front and the boys behind, as Josiah had instructed them to do, followed the boardwalk to the hotel. Only one building separated his law office and home from the hotel—a dry goods store with a closed sign on the door.
“The hotel is the only business open on Sundays,” Josiah said. “It’s a town ordinance.” He gestured across the road, where a northbound road met the west to east one they were walking alongside. “The school is down that way. There’s plenty of grass around it for the kids to play in. No need for any of them to be running the streets.”
“Perhaps after we’ve eaten, we can go there, show it to the boys,” she suggested.
“No need to,” he replied. “It’s closed.”
“For the summer?”
“Yes. We’ll have a new teacher come fall. Abigail White, she runs the newspaper along with her brother, Teddy, has nearly every newspaper in the state running ads to find us a new teacher.”
“What happened to the last teacher?”
“She married Art Cresswell a few months back,” he answered. “I was against it, but others persuaded me to let the marriage happen. Summer arrived just in time.”
“What do you mean?”
For the first time since she’d met him, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “She’s of the condition. Can’t have a woman in that state teaching the children of Oak Grove.” Before she could reply, he pulled open a door. “We’re here.”
“Evening, Mayor,” a tall man said while looking at her with a curious gaze.
“Hello, Mr. Austin,” Josiah greeted. “Allow me to introduce you to Fiona Goldberg and her children, Red and Wyatt. Fiona, this is Rollie Austin, he owns the hotel and restaurant. He also has two boys.”
“Hello, Mrs. Goldberg,” the hotel owner said. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m assuming you are new to our community.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Austin,” she answered, and looking for a way to correct Josiah’s blunder of Rhett’s name, she continued, “We arrived yesterday. How old are your boys? Rhett is five and Wyatt is seven.” She made a point of pronouncing Rhett’s name with strong t’s at the end as she set a hand on his shoulder and the other on Wyatt’s.
“Kade’s ten and Wiley’s six.” Glancing around, the man added, “They’re around here somewhere and will be glad to meet some boys around their age. With school being out for summer, they don’t have many friends in town to play with them. Most of the boys their age live out of town.”
“It’ll be nice to meet them, won’t it, boys?” Fiona asked her sons.
As she expected, Rhett smiled and nodded, while Wyatt’s somber expression never changed.
“I think they’re in the kitchen with Sadie, my wife.”
Although he didn’t have very much hair on his head, his face had plenty. Muttonchop sideburns met a thick dark mustache over his upper lip. She noticed all that because of how his cheeks turned red.
“I’ll go find them,” he said.
“We’re gonna sit down,” Josiah said.
“Of course, the evening regulars haven’t arrived yet.” Nodding toward her, the man said, “I’ll be right back.”
“He just got married yesterday,” Josiah said as they walked into a room holding a dozen or more tables covered with blue checkered tablecloths.
The table coverings reminded her of the cloth over the picnic basket Brett had shared with them. That seemed like it had been days ago rather than merely hours.
“His wife was one of the brides the Betterment Committee brought into town,” Josiah said as he sat down.
Once both boys were seated, Fiona sat down too. Curious, she asked, “How many brides were there?”
“Five arrived last month, the other seven are still being rounded up—haven’t secured transportation yet.” Scooting his chair closer to the table, he said, “The special today is fried chicken. I had it for lunch. It’s good.”
“So did we,” Wyatt said.
Fiona was surprised. Since they’d left the house, the few times Josiah had said anything to the boys, Wyatt had seemed content to let Rhett answer.
“Which is your favorite,” she said to Wyatt, with a smile.
He shrugged.
“It’s my favorite too,” Rhett supplied. “Along with fish.”
“Mrs. Goldberg,” Mr. Austin said, escorting a pretty young redheaded woman toward their table. “This is my wife, Sadie, and sons, Kade and Wiley.” The two black-haired boys arrived at the table first.
“You moving to town?” the taller one asked.
“Where do you live?” the shorter one said at the same time.
“I told you they’d be excited,” Mr. Austin said.
“The only kid my age in town is Becky Brooks, and she’s a girl,” the shorter one said.
The disgust in his voice made Fiona smile. She kept it on her lips as she greeted the woman, “Hello, I’m Fiona.”
“I’m Sadie,” the woman said quietly. “The special today is fried chicken.”
“We know,” Josiah said. “We’ll take three meals. The boys will share one.”
Fiona took a moment to consider her response. Sadie Austin appeared very shy and the way she nodded and turned about said she appreciated not having to make small talk. And Josiah was trying. She had to give him that. Furthermore, she wasn’t overly hungry and, for the first time ever, thought the boys might not be either.
After Mr. Austin and his sons followed Sadie to the kitchen, Fiona said to her sons, “Kade and Wiley seem like nice boys. It’ll be fun to have friends your age so close.”
Josiah cleared his throat. “The Austin boys have been known to be wild and out of control at times. It would be best if Red and Wyatt don’t associate with them overly much.”
“Rhett,” Wyatt said. “His name is Rhett.”
“It rhymes with Brett,” Rhett said.
“I must warn you boys to stay away from Mr. Blackwell too,” Josiah said. “See you don’t bother him.”
“We don’t bother him,” Rhett said. “He’s our friend.”
“Grown men are not friends with little boys,” Josiah said.
“I’ll see they don’t bother Mr. Blackwell,” Fiona said.
“Did I hear you menti
on Mr. Blackwell?” Mr. Austin asked as he set a plate before her and one before Josiah while his wife set plates before Rhett and Wyatt. “Brett Blackwell?”
“Do you know him?” Rhett asked excitedly. “We live in the house by his. He’s our friend.”
“Yes, I know him. He’s my friend too. Is that what brought you to Oak Grove? Brett?”
“No,” Josiah said. “Mrs. Goldberg and her sons are here because I invited them to consider moving to our town.”
“Oh,” Mr. Austin said. “So you’re thinking about buying the house the town built? That’s the only house near Brett’s place.”
He was looking at her, but Fiona wasn’t sure how to answer. It appeared as if Josiah didn’t want it known that she’d agreed to marry him. Perhaps because providing for her and her sons was not as easy as he’d imagined it would be. She couldn’t blame him for changing his mind, for it didn’t appear as if he had much experience when it came to having a family, but it would leave her in a precarious situation. Unless of course she took advantage of Brett’s promise, which she most certainly couldn’t do. Although, it certainly would be the easiest thing she’d ever done.
“They have my permission to stay there for a few days,” Josiah said. “Thank you for the meals, Rollie.”
The man gave a nod, and Fiona noticed a frown form as he turned away from the table. He also glanced over his shoulder to look at them before opening the door to the kitchen for his wife. If Josiah noticed, he didn’t comment on it.
After he’d taken several bites, Josiah set his fork down to take a drink of water. “There’s something you should know about Brett Blackwell, Fiona.”
The entire meal was the same as what they’d shared with Brett, other than the apple pie, yet it didn’t taste as wonderful as it had this afternoon. It wasn’t the cook’s fault. It was hers. She set her fork down too. “Oh, and what is that?”
“He’s a drinking man.” Josiah took another bite as he settled a solid stare on her.
* * *
Brett had never resorted to spying on people, yet he couldn’t convince himself to move away from the window. Fiona and her boys, as well as Josiah, were walking across the field toward her house and Brett found himself wondering how they’d spent the afternoon and evening.
Winning the Mail-Order Bride Page 9