I never grow tired of looking at the mountains. The vista fills my heart with joy. When he can spare the time, Seth has promised to take me exploring to places that are more than a few hours from our home. However, he has stolen time from his work to spirit me away to sites of nature he knows I will enjoy. The day he showed me a hidden waterfall, which has a secret cave carved by the force of the water behind the falls, will forever remain one of my fondest memories.
I still despair of finding places for all my furniture and possessions. The house simply isn’t big enough. But my dear Seth has promised to add on a proper parlor, where I can put the furniture I brought from my father’s home, especially my piano. He has ordered the lumber and the windows. I’m already cutting down the curtains from the house in St. Louis to fit the sizes of the windows I’ll have here. Not to worry. I didn’t leave my father’s windows empty. His wife prefers her taste in curtains to my own.
After the parlor is finished, Seth plans to begin on another bedroom. We need a place for guests. My father and Minerva have promised to come in the fall, and I so hope someday you and Chance will be able to visit.
I am eager to hear your news. I’ve been praying for you and hope you and Chance have worked out your troubles. Is your house finally completed?
I remain, as always, your dear friend.
Trudy Flanigan
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Later that day, Seth strolled down the main street of Sweetwater Springs toward the Cameron’s home with his wife on his arm, feeling like the cock of the walk. He caught the subtle glances of the men as they passed, or in the case of Henry Arden, an outright stare at Trudy. Pride and possessiveness had him drawing her closer to his side.
Trudy glanced up at him and gave him her special smile, the one she reserved only for him. She seemed oblivious to the attention her presence garnered, although Arden’s stare sent flags of color into her cheeks, making her look even more adorable. The blue ribbons around the brim of her bonnet and tied under her chin made her eyes bluer than ever, and the happy expression on her face sent his hopes soaring.
Tonight…he knew tonight was the night. He glanced at the sun. Only afternoon, but maybe they could start the festivities early.
Who would have thought a mail-order bride would bring me such happiness?
They reached the Cameron’s house and paused outside the picket fence.
Seth opened the gate for Trudy, unwound her hand from his arm, turned it over, and dropped a kiss on her palm, delighting on the blush that colored her cheeks. He touched his hat to her. “I’ll meet you back at the mercantile.” His wife wanted to visit for a few minutes with Mrs. Cameron, and mindful of Reverend Norton’s emphasis on a woman’s need to spend time with other women, he figured a social call would please Trudy. And a contented wife might just make me a happy man.
Seth strode back up the street to the wagon, which he’d parked in front of the mercantile. Trudy had a big shopping list, and he saw no sense carrying all the parcels down the street. He climbed up to the seat and leaned back, idly watching town life and enjoying a feeling of tranquility. Quiet moments during the day in the springtime were rare, and he lazily soaked up the sun and anticipated the evening. Only the noise of hammering a few streets over disturbed his peace.
After a while, Seth decided to stretch his legs. He figured he might as well mosey on over to the new construction and see what kind of building was going up.
Just before he came to Hardy’s, Seth heard the sound of weeping. Concerned, he peered around the corner of the newspaper office looking in the space between the buildings. A woman had her back against the side wall of the saloon. Both hands covered her face, but he recognized his favorite red dress and her shiny black curls.
“Lucy Belle,” Seth called softly, alarmed to see her crying. No matter what happened in the saloon, he’d never seen her shed a single tear. He hurried over to her.
She dropped her hands and darted a wary glance his way. Her eyes widened. “Seth!” She threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his vest. Her shoulders shook.
Feeling helpless, Seth held Lucy Belle and let her cry, feeling torn between his need to comfort her and guilt for embracing a woman who wasn’t his wife. Her rose perfume, which formerly enticed him, now smelled cloying compared to Trudy’s clean lavender scent. Her curves felt as soft as Seth had always imagined. But her shape didn’t fit him like Trudy’s did.
Finally, Lucy Belle’s shoulders stilled, and she raised her head, wiggling away from him.
He released her, fished out his handkerchief, and handed her the cloth.
She patted her face dry, blew her nose, and made to hand the handkerchief back.
Seth shook his head. “Keep it.”
“Thank you,” Lucy Belle said, her voice thick from crying. She went up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Lucy Belle.”
She shook her head.
For a moment, Seth had an inexplicable wish for Trudy’s presence. He knew his kindhearted wife could find a way to get Lucy Belle to confide in her, to assist with whatever was wrong. “Let me help you.”
“There’s nothing you can do.” She sniffed. “You’re a good man, Seth Flanigan. I hope that wife of yours knows it.”
Before he could figure out what to say, Lucy Belle spun on her heel. He reached out to detain her, but missed her arm.
She hurried away, disappearing out of sight around the corner of the building.
* * *
Carrying some roses, their stems denuded of thorns and wrapped in a damp rag, Trudy hurried down the street, eager to find her husband. She’d enjoyed a little chat with Mrs. Cameron, filling in the doctor’s wife on the improvements she’d made at the farm and telling her about the adventure with the panther. She’d declined an offer of tea, wanting to finish shopping and return home so she could put her plans for the evening into place.
Trudy smiled and nodded at people she passed, conscious that she should repress the bounce that kept creeping into her step and walk with more ladylike decorum. But she couldn’t quite make her feet behave.
Admiring her flowers and inhaling their sweet fragrance, Trudy crossed the dirt street to the other side. She’d so missed roses!
The sound of out-of-tune piano music made her look up and realize she’d angled to the saloon, instead of the newspaper office. For a moment, her steps faltered. Hoping no one thought she’d deliberately aimed in that direction, Trudy hurried past the open door.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement in the space between the buildings and glanced over to see a couple embracing. Embarrassed by their behavior, she looked away, only to recognize the shape of his shoulders, the gray stripped shirt he wore and realized the man was her husband. No, not Seth! Breath caught in her throat. She stopped and stared unbelieving of what she was seeing.
The woman kissed Seth on his cheek and said something.
Trudy gasped, then hurried past the two to the shelter of the next building, relieved they hadn’t seen her watching.
Hurt cramped in her stomach. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t breathe. Dizziness made her light-headed. But she forced herself to keep walking, to blindly nod at a man who tipped his hat to her. Her thoughts whirled and she couldn’t sort them into any sort of coherence.
A dark-haired woman rushed by, too fast for Trudy to see her face. She wore a red dress with a short curving hem that exposed her black button boots. The dress had flounces on the back instead of a bustle, and the woman’s black curls slipped out of a twist decorated with a red silk rose. A saloon girl? Seth was with a saloon girl?
Sickened, Trudy pressed a hand to her chest, trying to stop the pain. There must be an explanation. Have I made him wait too long for intimacy? He’d promised to wait as long as she needed, but maybe…
“Trudy.”
She heard her husband call her name, but she pretended not to hear. Holding her head high, she kept walking.<
br />
“Trudy!”
Seth’s hurried footsteps sounded behind her, and, with long strides, he caught up with her. “Pretty flowers.” He took her hand and tucked her fingers in the crook of his arm as if nothing had just happened.
She wanted to rail at him, but the words stayed locked inside. Feeling faint, she had to lean on his arm.
“Did you have a nice visit with Mrs. Cameron?”
The visit with the doctor’s wife seemed like it had taken place years ago. She nodded, feeling dazed. She hated how she needed his arm for support when all she wanted to do was to run away.
* * *
Still blindsided by what had just happened with Lucy Belle, Seth struggled to find his emotional footing. He had all he could do to talk rationally with Trudy and hoped his astute wife wouldn’t notice he wasn’t himself. Pull yourself together, man. There’s nothing you can do for Lucy Belle if she won’t let you help her. Your wife is who’s important. He tried to shove his past behind him, to focus on Trudy.
Just as they reached the mercantile, the door opened and Frank McCurdy and Lucy Belle stepped out. The man extended an elbow for the saloon girl.
Shock halted Seth in front of the couple, his boots scuffing in the dirt.
Her eyes downcast, Lucy Belle placed her hand in the crook of McCurdy’s arm.
Seeing the two together sent a punch of dread through Seth’s stomach. He never expected to see Lucy Belle on McCurdy’s arm. He studied her.
Lucy Belle had lost weight and looked pale. When she glanced up and spotted him, Seth saw the unhappiness in her brown eyes. Her nose was still red from crying. She seemed drained of her former vitality.
He paused, not certain what to do or how to help her.
Trudy made a small sound of distress. She glanced a question at him.
Seth didn’t know how to respond to her either.
McCurdy took matters into his own hands. His grin at Trudy oozed charm. “My dear Mrs. Flanigan, I don’t believe you’ve met Miss Lucy Belle Constantino. She’s been...away from town since you’ve arrived.”
What happened to her marriage? Is she with McCurdy now?
Aware of his wife’s instincts, Seth knew Trudy must have picked up on the tension between the three of them.
But the smile she directed at the saloon girl showed Trudy’s characteristic kindness. “Miss Constantino, I’m delighted to meet you.”
The saloon girl’s strained upward turn of her lips lacked her usual sauciness.
Her lack of vibrancy, the haunted look in Lucy Belle’s eyes, wrung Seth’s heart. If they’d been alone, Seth could have spoken to her, assured her of his support. Better him than McCurdy. The scoundrel would only take advantage of her.
Yet he needed to whisk his wife away from McCurdy’s vicinity before the varmint said a word about Seth’s past interest in the saloon girl or the bet the man had with Slim.
Still Seth lingered, frozen, torn between wanting to offer his support to Lucy Belle and needing to protect Trudy’s feelings.
When Seth glanced at his wife, he saw Trudy’s brows had pinched together and her mouth turned down in sadness. A feeling of uneasiness ran down his spine.
She extended a tentative hand toward Lucy Belle. “Please forgive me, Miss Constantino, if I’m presumptuous. However, I can’t help but feel you aren’t well. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Seth almost groaned.
Lucy Belle glanced away, fidgeted, and clutched a fold of her dress, an uncomfortable look on her face.
“Mrs. Flanigan,” McCurdy mocked. “Always, so solicitous.”
Thoughts racing at his conundrum, Seth clenched his fist.
Lucy Belle stood there unmoving. Drained of all her vitality, she appeared limp like a rag doll,
He hurt for her. Then a memory hit him. Being a small boy, living in a tiny room behind Hardy’s saloon before it belonged to Hardy. Often seeing that same hopeless expression on his mother’s face...the helplessness he’d felt...
The bet be damned! “Lucy Belle, why don’t you come with us?” Seth said in a coaxing tone. He relaxed his fist and held out his hand to her.
McCurdy jerked her back a few inches, gave Trudy his weasel smile, and patted Lucy Belle’s hand in a show of false sympathy. “You see, Mrs. Flanigan. The story is...our Lucy Belle’s heart was broken by none other than your own husband. She works at Hardy’s saloon—a place frequented by your husband…and myself. Thus, I saw with my own eyes how he led her on. At the news he’d married you, brokenhearted, she settled for the false affections of a never-do-well. The scoundrel used her and cast her aside.”
Hearing McCurdy spin the falsehood as if his words were the truth panicked Seth.
Lucy Belle shook her head. The rose in her hair slipped to the ground. “No,” she whispered.
But Trudy didn’t see the saloon girl’s reaction because she’d glanced up at Seth, a question in her eyes.
“It’s not as he says,” Seth stuttered, shaking his head. “Trudy, you know that—”
“You frequent the saloon?”
“Not any more,” he stammered. “You know that—”
“Do you have feelings for Miss Constantino?” Trudy interrupted.
Seth hesitated, reluctant to have this conversation in front of McCurdy. His gaze flicked between Lucy Belle and Trudy, a lump forming deep in his stomach.
Trudy must have seen the answer on his face. “You do?” Her eyes wide with hurt, her body stiffened. “Yet, you toyed with her affections? Led her to believe your intentions were serious?”
The condemnation in her voice twisted his innards. “No!” Seth protested. “I never toyed with Lucy Belle. I thought I loved her. Maybe even wanted to marry her.” As soon as the words slipped out, Seth could have slit his throat.
McCurdy laughed, the sound rough and sharp. “So that bet we made about you already having a woman…when you claimed you had one all picked out…was all a lie?”
Feeling as thought he’d stumbled into quicksand, Seth tried to find his footing. “No! Yes!”
“Well,” McCurdy taunted. “Which was it?”
Seth wanted to wipe the sneer off McCurdy’s face.
Again, Trudy’s eyebrows pinched together, and she turned to face him. “Bet? What bet?”
Malice glinted in McCurdy’s eyes. “Slim bet me that Seth could find a bride within two months.”
“Did you bet too?” Trudy asked in a whisper, and then her hand rose to cover her mouth.
The hurt in her voice dried up Seth’s words. Pain lodged in his throat and he tried to swallow against it.
“Na,” McCurdy answered for him. “But he made up a gal, ‘red, no a blonde, no a red-headed one.’ Yay high.” He demonstrated by holding out his hand. “Blue eyes. Guess he must have wrote and ordered you up.”
She glanced at Seth with pain-filled eyes. “He did. From a mail-order bride agency.”
The cat was out of the bag, and in the face of the larger calamity, Seth didn’t even care.
“You lied to your friends?” Trudy asked.
“It wasn’t like that.” Seth straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “McCurdy, this is none of your business. And I’d thank you to keep your trouble-making to yourself.” This time he succeeded in pulling Trudy to the steps of the mercantile.
But before they could go inside the store, she yanked her hand away from his arm. “I want to go home.”
That sounded like the best plan to Seth too. He could explain himself on the way back to the house. Surely after hearing the whole truth, Trudy would understand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
On the ride back, Trudy sat at the edge of the wagon seat, her stomach nauseated, trying to sort through the pain of her feelings. But all she could think of was the man she’d fallen head-over-heels for loved another woman.
Seth gave her an anxious glance from his beautiful gray eyes, the same eyes that earlier had looked at Mr. McCurdy and turned cold enough to freeze th
e man’s bones.
Trudy shivered, remembering, and realized her Seth had become a stranger. He’s no longer my Seth.
Yet she’d vowed before God to live with him for the rest of her life. How can I keep my vow if my heart is broken?
“Trudy, it’s not what you think—how McCurdy made it sound. I didn’t bet, but I felt obligated to Slim. The man had helped me out a few times, and I felt I owed him. And I was lonely, Trudy. I truly did want a wife.”
But you wanted Lucy Belle, not me.
“I hoped you and I could have a good life…build a good life together. And we have. You have to admit that, Trudy.” His fingers tightened on the reins. “We’ve been good together.”
I don’t have to admit anything to you. For a while, Trudy kept silent, thinking.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she spoke. “Perhaps if you’d told me all of this—been honest…” She shook her head and fisted her hands in her skirts. “No. Even then, I would not have wanted a man who drinks and gambles...who spends time in saloons.”
“But I’ve stopped. You know I haven’t been to the saloon since we’ve been married. I promised Reverend Norton I’d reform.”
This time, she turned her head and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I promised Reverend Norton I’d give up going to Hardy’s and start attending church. Otherwise he wouldn’t give me a reference to send to Mrs. Seymour.”
An ache settled into her middle. Trudy pressed a hand to her stomach. Her head pounded. Reverend Norton, a man I’d respected, had conspired with my husband to mislead me. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”
Trudy Page 17