by Bella Bowen
“Oh?” Mary felt suddenly clever. “So they won’t be short on women, will they?”
Fontaine wasn’t happy with the turn the conversation had taken. “You ain’t gonna turn down Mrs. Carnegie’s invitation. I won’t allow it.”
Mary ignored the threat. After all, she knew Fontaine maybe as well as anyone, and though she’d never say it out loud, her old friend was mostly bluster.
“I’m respectfully declining,” she said. “You can word it however you like, but try not to make it sound insulting.”
Fontaine’s mouth dropped open.
Mary turned her attention to pouring more water into their cups. “I’m home now. I’m comfortable here. I’m…settled.”
“You just want to care for your brothers the rest of your life? You don’t want a husband? Your own family?”
Oh, she wanted a husband all right, but the one she wanted was out of her reach in Boston. By the time he ever came around to Sage River again, he’d have his new bride on his arm—a bride that was no doubt older than Mary. Her only solace was to imagine the woman as slightly gray at the temples and wrinkled in the face. And if Mary was careful to stay away from Sage River as much as possible, she might never find out otherwise, and the image in her mind could keep on soothing her broken heart.
She pushed that thought away again and tried to put Fontaine on the defensive. Maybe then, the woman would go away and leave her be.
“I could say the same to you, you know.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you want a husband? Don’t you want your own family?”
To her complete surprise, Fontaine glanced at the bedroom door and blushed. And Mary had the sinking feeling her friend was thinking about Fritz Radley!
They both grabbed their cups and drank them dry. Mary had nearly forgotten what they’d been talking about before the conversation had taken a bad turn.
The Wednesday night dance…
She shrugged her shoulders and kept her attention strictly inside her empty cup. “Maybe if Pretty-face Hermann was going to be there…”
Fontaine sat forward and knocked on the table. “Lots of pretty men this week, Mary.” She was still red as beet juice. “You should come and see.”
They both seemed to realize there was nothing left to discuss and walked outside.
“I’m sorry,” Mary said as her old friend climbed into the saddle. “I’m settled. I’m not interested in marrying some stranger, handsome or not.
Fontaine’s brow furrowed. “I’ll send a dress tomorrow, just in case you change your mind.”
She shook her head. “Wasted trip.”
As Fontaine headed for the road, it dawned on Mary how much she missed the company of other women. But the hustle and bustle of city life—and ranch life—was behind her. Today, she’d be glad for sand and pebbles that would keep her shoes and floors a little cleaner.
She tucked her gun into her pocket, picked up a bucket and collected the shovel.
She was also grateful for a new store of bear fat. And that a certain black bear wouldn’t come pushing his way into her smokehouse anymore. And thanks to the way the critter had marked up the door, she suspected other bears would consider her place to be that bear’s territory. But in case none of that worked, she had her gun.
“Thankful for bullets,” she mumbled as she made her way to the creek. “Thankful for that trip into town...”
A couple of weeks back, she’d gone into Sage River with a long list of items she needed from the mercantile. She’d been in the store so long, they’d nearly forgotten about her. And that’s when she’d overheard Mrs. Anderson whispering to another woman how exciting it was that young John Hermann was finally taking a bride.
Yes, she’d been grateful for that trip, grateful for the warning. And now she would never need to worry about running into John and making a fool of herself.
The last two weeks had been heartbreaking for Mary. Every time she thought of John, she saw a woman on his arm. Even the image of a younger Rebel had a woman’s face looming in the background. Not even her memories were safe anymore. So maybe it was time to put those memories behind her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The dress was delivered the next morning—the pink dress from the night she’d played Cinderella—and it was brought by none other than Mrs. Carnegie herself.
By the way Puuku watched the woods with her rifle at the ready, Mary suspected that William Fortune had stayed in town long enough to spread his tale far and wide. She was just grateful he hadn’t stopped back by her place on his way out of town to try and entice her into sharing his wild mountain life.
It wasn’t that she was tempted—although Billy had all his teeth and seemed civilized enough to marry a mountain girl. It was the temptation to tease Fritz she found hard to resist. And it wasn’t wise to tease the man who allowed her the large bedroom.
And if Fritz decides to marry?
She shook the idea from her head and refused to borrow trouble from tomorrow. There was enough trouble for the day arriving at her door.
Puuku stayed in the wagon. Mrs. Carnegie—in britches— climbed down and pulled the dress from the back. Mary was grateful once again she’d put down sand and rocks so the lovely gown didn’t drag in the mud. But seeing that shade of pink again was like a punch in the stomach that nearly had Mary bending over to ease the pain of it.
She forced her shoulders back and lifted her chin in the air. “Didn’t Fontaine tell you? I’m not interested in going to the dance, Mrs. Carnegie. I’m not interested in marrying or socializing.”
“Nonsense,” the woman snapped. “I taught you better than that. Your friend is newly married and has invited you to a party to celebrate her joy. The least you can do is put on a pretty dress and go smile for her.”
“I don’t want anything to do with city life—”
“I don’t care what you want, Mary. Alexandra was an important part of the ranch since you left, and I want to see her happy. That means you’re coming.”
Mary shook her head. “With all due respect, Ma’am—”
“Do you have twenty-five dollars hidden in some grease can in that cabin?”
“Twenty-five dollars?”
The woman nodded once, her face stone cold sober. “Twenty-five dollars.”
“Well, I…”
“You don’t. So it’s settled. You’re coming.”
Mary shook her head again.
Mrs. Carnegie closed her eyes for a moment like she might have been praying for patience. “Do you want your father going to jail?”
Mary continued shaking her head, only a bit more emphatically.
The woman nodded and smiled. “I’ll have your brother bring a carriage home with him tonight. And I’ll see you at the party. Seven o’clock sharp.” Mrs. Carnegie dropped a carpet bag at her feet, then draped the dress over Mary’s shoulder before climbing back into the wagon and taking up the leads.
Puuku dragged her attention away from the trees long enough to give her a nod, but Mary suspected the gesture had less to do with courtesy and more to do with the fact that Mary had recently bested a bear.
After the sight and sound of the wagon had faded in the distance, Mary took her gun, yoke, and buckets down to the creek.
Apparently, she was going to need a bath…
~ ~ ~
It had been a while since she’d gotten gussied up, so Mary felt a little clumsy while styling her hair. In the end, she had to settle for putting up the sides and leaving the back down. Though her head was covered in curls, there was no trace of Alexandra Campbell in her mirror that night. In the end, she decided not to wear the little hat because she wouldn’t be hiding from anyone this time.
Fritz insisted on driving her in. They argued. She didn’t want any witnesses while she worked up the nerve to attend the party, but then she suspected her brother was more anxious for a glimpse of Fontaine than he was for her welfare. By the time they lit out for Sage River, it was Mary watching Fritz fidget and
fuss. And though his nervous state kept her mind off her own distress, it also made her realize that her days taking care of her brothers were probably numbered.
Apparently, the eldest son of Jeb Radley was human. Who would have guessed it?
Buildings came into view long before Mary spotted the well. Even more houses had been erected since her visit two weeks before. The tanner’s two-storied house had been painted yellow and white gingerbreading had been added. It looked like the king of the hill with Snowy Range looming behind it like a mantle. Candlelight glowed in the upper windows—warm eyes shining down on the progress of man.
She nudged Fritz and pointed. “Are those window boxes?”
Her brother nodded but turned his attention back to the road. His teeth kept on worrying his poor bottom lip. He’d be lucky if he didn’t draw blood by the time they reached the assembly hall.
Heaven help her. Where would she finally land? What future was left to her?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Fritz pulled up in front of the hall and hurried around to hand her down. Fontaine stepped out of the shadows on the east side of the building and pushed up the brim of her hat.
“Glad I didn’t have to come after ya,” she said with a grin, but she was looking at Fritz. “Mr. Radley.”
“Fontaine.” Her brother whipped his hat off and offered Mary his arm. She rolled her eyes, but took it and allowed him to lead her inside the door.
“Good evening, Mary,” said Mrs. Carnegie. “Fritz? Why don’t you get a drink and join us?”
Mary schooled her expression but she didn’t know how she felt about her brother being surrounded by so many marriage-minded women. What if he took a liking to someone and hurt Fontaine’s feelings?
“Don’t worry about your brother,” her former boss murmured. “He won’t embarrass you.”
Mary shook her head. “I never thought he would.”
The woman excused herself and pointed Mary in Alexandra’s direction. Before she got half way across the floor, the bride hurried to meet her.
“Oh, Mary! Isn’t it wonderful?”
Mary nodded and embraced her happy friend. “Congratulations.”
Alexandra turned and pointed to a big man shaking hands with a mob of men by the refreshment table. “There he is. My Connell. If it weren’t for Mr. Hermann, he would never have found me. Can you believe it? Our fathers told him I was dead! Just what in the world did they expect to happen if I came home for a visit, I wonder?”
“What was that about Mr. Hermann? Did the tanner have something to do with this?”
Alexandra’s brows came together. “The tanner? No. His son, John. If it wasn’t for John…” She looked around and shook her head. “Never mind that. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Mary’s stomach plummeted. Was John Hermann in Sage River? So soon? And if he was in town, surely he’d be attending the party if he’d had something to do with the bride and groom finding each other again.
She had to leave!
She spun on her heel and headed back to the door. If she moved quickly enough, maybe she could get outside before anyone recognized her. She should have worn the hat!
But no, that wasn’t right. She’d still look familiar to him in the blasted pink dress!
While keeping her chin lowered, she searched for her brother. But if she couldn’t find him before she reached the doors, she’d just have to take the buggy and go home without him. She’d done what she’d come to do—share a bit of joy with the bride. The hall had three times the people that usually attended the dances, so Alexandra would never know if she’d gone or if she was simply lost in the crowd.
No sign of Fritz.
She took a deep breath and reached for the door, confident she would be able to run by the time she exhaled again. But a hand on her elbow stopped her.
“Mary, don’t go.” Fritz stood behind her with a cup of punch in his other hand. “Dance with your old brother, would you?”
She shook her head and tried to smile. “You don’t know how. If you take me home, I promise to teach you.” His hand kept her from turning back to the doors.
“I think it’s time we stopped teasing her,” Fritz said in a strong, clear voice. The music stopped, as did the dancing. “This party is for you, Mary. It’s all for you.” He stepped back and gestured to the crowd that was now facing her with smiles on their faces.
“I don’t understand. Is this about the bear?”
Fritz laughed. “No.” He looked over her shoulder and nodded. Mary followed his gaze and found John Hermann standing at her shoulder.
“Hello, Mary.”
Her head started shaking of its own accord and she took a step back and closed her eyes before she had a chance to see his bride. In her mind, she really needed the woman to be old and wrinkled.
“What’s the matter?”
She sighed and opened her eyes. With so many faces looking on, she could hardly act like a petulant child. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said quietly. “How are you, Mr. Hermann?”
He tisked. “Now, now. First names after second dances, remember?”
She nodded. “But now that you’re married…”
His eyes widened. “I’m not married, Mary.”
“Mary? You called me Mary!” He had! “I was going to tell you, but you left town early—”
“Yes. I regret that more than you know.” He frowned toward the wall where Fontaine stood hiding her face behind the brim of her hat.
“I’m Mary Radley,” she said, just to be certain he knew the whole of it.
“I know. I’ve been in town for three days and it’s taken an army of men to keep me from riding out to fetch you. When I heard about the bear…” He swallowed with difficulty, then seemed to realize a hundred ears were listening to every word, so he took her by the elbow and led her to a bench. “I’m afraid my knees are about to give out on me.”
They sat. People pretended to give them privacy.
“It’s because you’re so old,” she teased.
He laughed lightly. “Yes, well. Maybe the floor will help that.” On one of those old knees, he knelt on the hard wood in front of her and the crowd stilled again. “Mary Radley… My Mary… Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She would have pinched herself, but if it was a dream, she didn’t want to know it. In fact, she very much wanted to hear him say those magical words again.
She smiled tentatively. “I beg your pardon?”
Someone laughed and was shushed.
“Mary,” he began again, then leaned closer until she could almost believe no one else was in the room. Their foreheads were only an inch apart. His deep voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I’ve loved you since you were ten years old. Ten,” he sighed. “I’ve waited nearly eight years for you. Will you marry me?”
“I’d love nothing more, but…”
“But?”
“But at Diamond Springs Ranch, we have a specific way of doing things.” She looked to her right and exchanged a mischievous look with Mrs. Carnegie. “First, we dance—”
“We’ve danced, Mary. In December. Though I’m happy to dance with you again now.”
The musicians started up again and the crowd moved away from them, finally allowing them a little room to talk.
“No thank you. I don’t think I could dance right now.” Then she sighed dramatically. “But then there is the Thursday afternoon Tea…”
John looked at Fritz who was hovering nearby. “Don’t just stand there. Find her a cup of tea.” His attention returned. “And while you drink this tea, a man is allowed to propose?”
She nodded.
He leaned close again. “If you think you need to wait until Saturday to be married, I understand.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “But I happen to know the parson is waiting in the chapel just in case he’s needed…tonight.”
Her heartbeat became a slow, booming cadence in her chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, it felt like the r
hythm of a wedding march. But then the truth of the situation set in.
“Are you certain you want me?” she whispered. “That is to say, I’m not the ten year old girl you once knew.”
He smiled tenderly and stroked a finger down the side of her face. “I do know that, yes. For one thing, those freckles are gone.”
“And you used to talk about seeing the world. Don’t you want to do that?”
“Not without you.” He dragged in a shaky breath and she realized this wasn’t easy for him. She really shouldn’t keep teasing him. “We’ve found each other again. Does that mean anything to you?”
Warm, wet tears poured in a trail down her face. “Oh, yes. The moment I knew you were Rebel, I was overcome. You were telling me the story of our summer and you were so caught up in the telling that you didn’t notice. But you did help me to this bench.”
He gifted her with the dearest smile that sent her heart melting throughout her chest like a wellspring of warm butter. Then he tapped her on the nose. “I knew I hadn’t mentioned the name Rebel to you. It plagued me, I tell you. But I convinced myself you’d overheard it from someone in town, that the tanner’s son had a nickname.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you who I was before.”
“I know. Do you remember Mr. Charleston?”
He went on to tell her how he’d discovered who she really was, and ended with his adventures in Pennsylvania, running around looking for a heartbroken Scotsman. “Do you know how many McDonalds there are in Chester County?”
A large, rather hairy shoulder draped in red plaid slammed into John’s back. He was lifted and dragged backward before being swung in a circle by the enthusiastic bridegroom. A very exhausted bride looked on from the next bench where she gripped the wooden arm as if willing to defend her right to rest for a bit. She grinned and waved at Mary with her small bouquet of pines and some precious white roses that had to have come from Mrs. Hermann’s well-defended hot house. There were so many weddings that took place in Sage River, Mary was surprised there were any blossoms left.