“Then again, Aimee was supposed to tell you all a that.”
Well, she hadn’t. And Michael couldn’t help but wonder who the real villainess was here and if all of this was some elaborate scheme to snag a husband. He had no way of knowing the truth. What he did know was, he felt the deception through every inch of his body and the largest portion of that deception settled into his heart.
From the way she was looking at him, he knew she was waiting for his response, but instead of responding, he raised the letter and continued to read.
“‘Your advertisement states that you cannot travel as the work on your ranch needs your attention. I am willing to travel, but my father will not let me leave without first being married.’” Michael glanced over at her. “Is that true? Your father would not allow you to leave until you were married first?”
“Yes, sir. And neither would my brothers.”
He nodded, then continued to read. From the corner of his eye, he could see Selina pulling the bead up and down on her stampede string.
The more he read, the faster she raised and lowered the bead. And if he wasn’t mistaken, a shiny wet spot covered her cheek.
As he read one letter after another and Selina refuted one thing after another, anger replaced any love he felt toward the person who penned them.
“I’ve heard enough. Please stop.”
She’d heard enough? He’d heard plenty. Plenty enough to know he’d been lied to and tricked.
His gaze fell to the stack of letters in his lap that at one time had brought him more love and joy than he’d ever known before. He had loved the sense of humor in them, the wit, the charm, the way the person saw beauty in the smallest things, the feistiness and confidence the person in them possessed. Only that woman no longer existed.
Or did she?
He didn’t know anymore.
Didn’t know what to believe or who to believe.
This whole thing was making him crazy.
Who could do such a wicked thing? And why? What could their motive be? He folded the letter he’d been reading, stacked it on top of the rest and tied the string around them. What he really wanted to do was burn them and his marriage certificate.
“I’m so sorry, Michael.” Selina’s voice cracked. “Everything I told her to say, she twisted or made it bigger than it was. She even wrote things I never did say.” She shook her head, looking lost, alone, terrified even.
He couldn’t help but wonder if it was all an act. He hated thinking like that, but he didn’t know the truth or how to find it.
“Can’t believe Aimee did that. I don’t understand why she did this to me. To us.” Her gaze dropped, along with her voice. “I—I don’t rightly know what to say except…” Her chest rose and fell. “What do we do now?”
Her whisper, broken by tears, tugged at his heart. He hated seeing a woman cry, no matter how angry he was.
What did they do now?
Vows had been spoken, and the Bible made it clear about the wrongness of breaking vows. Like it or not, he and Selina were legally married. There was only one answer to that question. “I guess we head home.”
Her gaze flew up to his and the color in her face fled.
Michael understood exactly how she felt. But they had no other choice. He hoisted his body off the log and offered Selina a helping hand up. “We made our vows before God and we need to honor those vows. Let’s go home.”
Selina picked up her rifle and slung the sling around her neck.
They shuffled their way back toward the train depot.
“Where’s your luggage?” he asked without looking at her, his mind and body numb. Dead, even.
“I only have the one bag.” She headed toward a patched-up gunnysack, picked it up and faced him.
He stared at the bag, shocked by her obvious poverty. “Here, let me take that for you.” His focus trailed to her face.
She raised her head and jutted her chin before shifting her bag away from his reach. “Thank you kindly, but I can carry it myself.”
He didn’t mean to hurt her pride. He nodded, then pointed to his wagon, the only one left at the station now.
She slipped her hat back on, strode to the back of the buckboard, laid her rifle and sack down, then leaped onto the tail of the wagon, leaving her legs dangling.
That wasn’t what he had in mind when he pictured taking his bride home. And what if his family was around when he got back to the ranch? What would they think if they saw her sitting back there and not up front with him?
Indecision tugged him in several directions as he debated what to do. Embarrassed by her appearance, he preferred she stay back there. But then again, if she did, his family would wonder what was wrong and he certainly didn’t want to tell them he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. They already thought he was crazy because of some of the poor choices he’d made in the past.
Like the goats he’d bought on a whim.
The little brats had destroyed his mother’s garden, chewed up some of the laundry and had even wreaked havoc at some of their neighbors’ places. It had taken him a long time to make amends and to get rid of them. No one wanted the goats. He finally had to give them away. His family still gave him a hard time for that one. They’d have a field day with this one.
“Selina.” He scuffed at the dirt with his boot. “Would you mind sitting up front with me?”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because… Whether we like it or not, we are man and wife, and I think it would be best if we acted like it.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “I see what you’re sayin’, and I won’t shame ya by not sittin’ next to you.” Before he had a chance to help her, she hopped down and seated herself up front, leaving the sweet scent of field flowers in her wake.
He stared, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to a woman who acted and dressed like a man. And yet, what choice did he have? For better or worse, she was now his wife. And he had a bad feeling it was going to be for the worse.
Chapter Two
Selina scooted as close to the side of the wagon seat as possible. Touching Michael was something she didn’t want to do. Her heart ached something fierce knowing Michael didn’t love her and that she’d pretty much come all this way for nothing.
If only she’d known all of this back home, she would’ve never gotten hitched then. She’d seen the ugliness of what a marriage without love could do to folks, to the whole family, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Long ago she had made a promise to herself to never get married unless the man truly loved her and she loved him. When she’d said yes to Michael’s proposal, she believed she was honoring that promise.
Why did she ever let Aimee talk her into answering that stupid ad? If she hadn’t, then neither she nor Michael would be in this mess.
Poor Michael. What he must be going through. “Michael.”
“Yes?”
“I’m really sorry for what my friend did. I had no idea she wrote those things and lied to you. Iffen I’d known, I would never have come.”
“What’s done is done, Selina. We’ll just make the best of it.”
He sure seemed to be taking it a lot easier than she was. Either that or he was mighty good at hiding it.
Silence followed them the rest of the way home. That was fine with Selina. Gave her time to take in the scenery.
Layers of green rolling hills stretched before her, ending at the base of a mountain covered with trees. Well, if a body could call these here mountains. They weren’t nearly as big as the ones back home. In Kentucky, these mountains would be called nothing more than hills.
One thing for certain, this place was nothing like where she’d come from. But then again, nowhere on God’s green earth ever would be to her. Born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains, she loved Kentucky and all its beauty. Before she left, she had fastened every little detail of them and her home into her memory so she’d never forget what they loo
ked like.
The sun bore down on her back, heating her body something awful. She sure could use a drink. She licked her lips.
Michael twisted in the seat and reached for something behind him. He handed a canteen to her.
“How’d you know I was thirsty?”
His only response was a hike of his shoulder.
Wasn’t long before they rounded a bend in the trees.
“Whoa, girls.” Michael pulled the horses to a halt in front of a house five times bigger than the shack she grew up in.
Selina turned to Michael. “Why we stoppin’ here?” She gawked at the large two-story house with rocking chairs, small tables and a big wooden swing on the porch that went clear around the place.
“I live here.”
“This is yours?”
“Yes. It is.”
“Well, I’ll be hanged. You told me you were a pig farmer. Or did Aimee lie about that, too?”
“No. She didn’t. I am a pig farmer. But I said that I also raise cattle.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned. “I can’t believe I up and married myself a rich man.”
Michael turned his head her direction. “You sound like that’s a bad thing.”
“It is. Iffen I’d a known you was rich, I’d never have answered that ad.”
“What do you have against rich people?”
“Lots of things. Folks who have money think they’re better than poor folk. Treatin’ us like we’re lower than dirt. Like we have no feelin’s at all.”
“Hey, now just you wait a minute. You can’t go judging all rich people by the ones where you come from. My family and I do not turn up our noses at poor folks or treat them like dirt, either. Nor are we mean. I resent you clumping us into some category when you don’t even know us.”
“You might resent it, but the truth is you’re just like them rich folks back home. Back at the train station I saw you turn your nose down at me and how I look. My whole life people been judgin’ me by the way I dress. All I can say is, I’m mighty glad the good Lord looks at the heart and not the outside like some folks do.”
His cheeks turned the color of a rusty-pink sunset.
“Aimee was rich, too. And look what she did to us.” Selina spoke under her breath, still in shock at what her friend had done. She didn’t want to think about that right now though. It hurt too much.
She hopped down from the wagon and grabbed her bag. Good thing she’d found a flour sack and put it to rights the best way she could, or she wouldn’t have had anything to put her few belongings in.
Her eyes trailed to the huge house again and she wondered how many people lived here.
Michael was waiting for her at the end of the steps, looking uncomfortable.
Well, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. C’mon, Selina. You can do this. She met him and followed him up the stairs.
Michael opened the door and waited for her to go in first. One thing about the man, he was a gentleman. She stepped inside and stopped. Never in all of her born days had she seen anything so fancy.
The place was filled with more furniture than she’d ever laid eyes on. Her focus slid to the rich brown kitchen table and the six matching chairs with fancy carved legs and arms. Fresh flowers flowed from a large vase in the center of the table, which was covered with a lacy tablecloth.
And the cook stove, why, it was mighty fine. Unlike the old potbelly stove back home. That thing was harder than the dickens to keep burning and the door barely hung on.
Selina stepped farther inside, taking in the whole room. Two cream-colored rockers with gold squiggly lines running through the fancy curved tops and arms sat on one side of the fireplace, facing a matching sofa with blue, gold and cream-colored pillows on it. Betwixt them was a long table. A large oval blue-and-cream rug had been placed underneath the table. Sure was pretty.
Heavy drapes held back by a braided rope covered six tall living room windows.
On the mantel of the large stone fireplace sat a clock, with three different-sized brass candlestick holders on each side of it.
Selina strode toward the fireplace and crouched down, peering past the metal screen.
Why, the thing went plumb through to the other side into a bedroom with a cherry-colored dresser topped with a long mirror, another dresser that was taller and a four-poster bed, and all of them were done in the same fancy carved wood as the rest of the place. On top of the bed was a white quilt with light and dark blue circles and dark blue pillow covers. Pale blue drapes swagged the windows.
She loved blue. A tear slipped from her eye. She thumbed it away and wouldn’t allow any more to escape. Knowing Aimee had told Michael that Selina loved blue made her wonder if the blue bed quilt and house curtains were done on purpose. Well, even if they had been, who were they done for? Her or Aimee?
Selina turned to see Michael standing in the doorway with his hat in his hands, watching her. Never before had she felt so out of place or uncomfortable. And she didn’t like it. Not one little bit. She pressed her shoulders back, determined to not let it show. “Your home is beautiful, Michael. Whoever took the time of it did a right fine job.”
When he said nothing, she played with the bead on her hat string. No longer able to stand the silence, she said, “Well, I reckon you must be hungry. Let me get my rifle and I’ll hunt us up some grub.”
His head bobbed forward like a rooster. “Grub? Are you serious?”
She raised her chin, not liking how he made her feel with his tone. “Yes, sir, I am serious. You wanna eat, don’t ya?”
“Well, yes, but you don’t have to hunt for any grub,” he said the word grub as if he hadn’t ever heard it before. “I’m assuming grub refers to food.”
Sure enough, he hadn’t.
“I have a cellar and a pantry full of meat and anything else you might need. Here. I’ll show you.” Michael walked over to a small room off the kitchen, opened the door and stepped to the side.
Selina came up beside him at the doorway entry and peered inside. Her eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets. The room was filled with canned goods, a large bag of flour and sugar, eggs, coffee, cornmeal and just about anything a body would need to fix a meal. Except she didn’t see any meat.
“That door at the end of the pantry leads into the cellar,” he said from behind her. A little too close behind her as far as she was concerned. She squirmed forward, but his broad-shouldered body took up most of the small space. Thing was, it didn’t seem that small before he stepped into it.
Wood, soap and peppermint scents drifted from him. He sure smelled nice.
Swallowing to stop the thoughts, she moved farther into the room, putting even more space between them.
“You’ll find whatever meat you need down there along with fresh vegetables and canned fruit.”
Selina opened the door and squatted, trying to see in the dark hole but couldn’t. It was coal black. When she stood, Michael picked up a lantern and matches from one of the shelves and lit it.
“Here. Take this.”
She took it from him and made her way slowly down the steep, narrow stairs, expecting one of them to give way any time, but they never did. They were nothing like the rickety steps back home. These were nice and sturdy.
At the bottom of the steps, she held the lantern up. Jumpin’ crickets! she thought, unable to believe her eyes. One whole side of the room was filled with hanging meat. All sorts of canned goods lined two of the walls. Barrels of taters, carrots, dehydrated apples, turnips and onions lined the other wall. More food than a body could eat in a year.
Michael stepped into the cavelike room, filling it with his presence. She struggled to keep her wits about her as she continued to take in what was before her. “How many will I be feedin’?”
“Just you and me.”
Selina whirled. “All a this food is just for the two of us?”
“Yes. I wanted to make sure there was plenty when you got here. We butchered a few head of cows an
d some pigs and divided the meat. Mother, Rainee, Hannah and Leah canned all the fruits and vegetables and the fish and chicken, you see.”
“There sure is a lot of it. Must’ve taken them a long time to put up so much. Well, from now on, I can do ours so they won’t have to.”
“You know how to can?”
“Sure do. I told you so in my letters.” Her heart dropped to the dirt floor of the cellar with that slip of the tongue. Now why’d she have to go and bring up them letters for? All that did was remind her that she wasn’t the woman her husband was expecting, that she wasn’t loved and that this wasn’t a real marriage and probably never would be.
“Well, I need to go and finish my chores.” He turned and headed toward the steps.
She followed him, hoping to do something to reclaim her pride. “I’ll help you.”
He stopped on the stair and looked down at her. The man sure had pretty blue eyes.
“Help me? You don’t have to help me. Chores are man’s work.”
“Not where I come from they’re not. Besides, I aim to do my part to earn my keep and to help out around here.”
He raised his hat and forked his fingers through his hair, then put his hat back on. “Selina, you don’t have to earn your keep. You’re my wife.”
A wife you don’t want.
“And no wife of mine is going to do chores.”
Did she just hear what she thought she’d heard?
She planted her hands on her hips. “And no man is ever gonna tell me what to do.”
Not even her husband—no, make that especially not her husband. She’d never let him bully or boss her around or tell her what she could and couldn’t do like her cousin Mary’s husband had done. Mary had always been a cheerful and happy sort until she’d gotten hitched. Her husband stripped the life out of her with his controlling, bullying ways. He’d broken Mary’s spirit until she was walking and acting like some dead person. Even worse, Mary had let him.
Well, not this gal.
Michael came back down the stairs and looked her right in the eyes. “I’ll say it again. Chores are man’s work and no wife of mine is going to do men’s chores.”
The Unlikely Wife Page 2