Mail Order Compromise (Kansas Brides Series #5)

by Barbara Goss

  “Well, my life compared to yours is rather boring. I have no siblings, and my mother died giving birth to me. I never knew her. My father never remarried, although he does court women now and then. He claims he’s never found anyone like my mother, and probably never will. He’s vacationing now, so you probably won’t meet him for a while.

  “I had a dog growing up, and her name was Minnie. I like fishing and hunting. I haven’t courted many women as there aren’t many single women in Hunter’s Grove. I work at the bank and I love it.”

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “Yes, pretty much.”

  “Does your father live with you?”

  “No, he has his own home. I bought my house just a few months ago.”

  “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “That’s our next stop,” Brock said, smiling. He kissed her hand and dropped it. He stood and fastidiously folded the blanket, sorted the picnic things, and placed them neatly into the basket. He then placed them into the buggy.

  “Let’s go,” he said, putting his hand out to help her into the vehicle.

  Brock held his breath as he pulled up before the house that had once been Elaina and Pete’s. It needed a new roof; some of the shutters were loose and hanging crookedly. The porch steps were slanting to one side, and the barn was extremely weathered.

  As he stopped the buggy, he glanced at Sarah to see her reaction. At first, she studied the house without showing any expression at all.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think it has possibilities—and character. I love that there aren’t any close neighbors like I had in Ohio. It seems so peaceful here,” she said.

  “What about the house?” he asked, impatiently.

  “It has good structure and looks like a solid home. It needs a woman’s touch, a paint job, and a bit of carpentry work. It will then be beautiful. I love it. Can we go inside?”

  “Sure,” he said. The inside would surely do the trick. The furniture was old, worn, the floors no longer shined, and the windows were so old they were drafty.

  He took her through the front door.

  “I love the size of the sitting room,” she said. She opened the closet, “And look! A place to hang coats when visitors come over.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Why is it empty?”

  “Um, I just haven’t brought all my things here yet. I’m moving in gradually.”

  “I’ll help. The room needs to be painted, and then you need things to hang on the walls to make it look cozy.” She looked at him with an excited look, “Can I pick the color?”

  “Sure you can.” He stood surprised and pleased with her reaction.

  She walked toward the kitchen. “Another large room.” She studied the room from corner to corner and then said, “I can do a lot with this.”

  Brock was shocked. “You can?”

  “I love the size, and it has plenty of counter space, it’s bright, and it has plenty of storage space. I like that it has a water pump and a huge stove. I’d love cooking in this kitchen. Do you have a root cellar?”

  Brock hadn’t checked, but he thought Pete had mentioned one.

  “Yes, but it’s empty right now.”

  “Oh,” she said and walked back to the sitting room. “I can make covers for the sofa and armchair. This will look nice when I’m finished with it. Can we go upstairs?”

  Brock led her up the steps where he showed her an empty bedroom, one bedroom that contained nothing but a bed and dresser, and then the master bedroom at the front of the house.

  “This is huge,” she said. She ran her hand over the wooden headboard of the double bed. “I like the headboard.”

  “The fireplaces need to be cleaned for winter,” Brock said.

  “I can’t wait to get my hands on this house…oh, that is, if we…um suit.”

  Brock winked at her. “I think we will.”

  She smiled back, and he felt his heart pound.

  “Can I see the barn?” she asked.

  “Of course.” Brock led her down the stairs and outside.

  Sarah walked all around the barn, then stopped in the back and gazed at the empty chicken coop.

  “Were there chickens here once?”

  “Yes. The previous owner had quite a few.”

  “If I were to live here, I’d like to have chickens. Imagine having fresh laid eggs every morning,” she said, clapping her hands together. “This place is perfect.”

  “It is?” Brock couldn’t believe his ears. Her reaction to the house made him wonder what her previous house had been like.”

  “What kind of house did you live in with your family in Ohio?” he asked.

  “We lived in a flat above a hardware store.”

  “I can see why, then, that you like this place so much.”

  “Our home was so cramped that I’d dream at night that I lived in a spacious house, so large that I’d keep finding a room I hadn’t seen before. Isn’t that silly?” she laughed.

  “No. Not at all.” Brock said. Just his luck, she loved the house. What if she hated his mansion? Yet, he felt pleased that she was a down-to-earth person who seemed unspoiled and extremely creative. Beyond her prettiness, she had much more to offer a husband. Brock had yet to kiss her, but he had a feeling it would be wonderful. He felt a warm feeling from her personality, and that was more important than physical attraction anyway.

  “I’m glad I brought you here,” he said.

  “Really?” she asked, smiling up at him. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, unsure of how to explain his observation. “It tells me more about you. You’re creative, always willing to make the best of situations. You’re optimistic, and a positive person. I like that.”

  She smiled. “Now, how do I find out more about you?”

  “I think you’ll have to judge me by what you see.”

  “I like what I see,” she said with an alluring smile.

  He took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. “I like what I see, too.”

  The way she looked up at him with those big blue eyes, made him yearn to draw her closer and kiss her, but he was afraid it was too soon. He didn’t want to spoil the rapport they’d built so far.

  Brock kept her hand captured in his own, and walked her to the buggy. He saw Sarah shiver. The sun was going down and there was a chill in the air. He removed his jacket and put it on her shoulders, and then recaptured her hand.

  Sarah was beginning to feel comfortable in Brock’s presence. He was certainly a gentleman. Yet, somehow, Brock and that house didn’t seem to fit in her eyes. He was so distinguished and dressed so well, but the house—well, it just didn’t match a man who was so meticulous in everything he did. Of course, he’d said he’d just purchased it so she was sure he had plans to make it something that matched his personality. She could help him with that.

  She liked him, but try as she might, she couldn’t get him to kiss her. She’d sent him innumerous alluring smiles and even squeezed his hand a few times when he held it, but so far he hadn’t even tried to get affectionate. She wondered if he liked her, but didn’t find her attractive to him in that way, which had her worried.

  While physical attraction wasn’t the most important thing, it was certainly high scoring on the list of compatibility. She thought the top of the list was what the person was like inside. Was he a kind and sympathetic man? There was so much she needed to learn about Brock VanSickle.

  He drove her to Mrs. Smith’s, and walked her to the door. On the porch, he put out his hand, as if to shake hands. She looked at it, and then slid her hand into his, but he didn’t shake it, he just held it.

  “Thank you for a wonderful day,” he said. “I truly enjoyed it.”

  “I did as well.”

  “May I see you again?” he asked.

  “I was under the impression that you’d court me until we decided whether we suited, so yes, you may,” she said.

  He rubbed his thumb on the
palm of her hand as he spoke. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  If he didn’t stop rubbing her palm, she felt she’d throw herself into his arms and beg him to kiss her. Did he have any idea what that does to a woman?

  “Tomorrow would be fine,” she said, trying to give him a welcoming look. A look that would tell him she’d love a kiss.

  “I’m trying to think of something we can do tomorrow. Are you up for a long ride?” he asked.

  “Yes. I don’t mind.”

  “I could take you to see the mushroom place, but we’d have to leave early. Can you be ready by eight?”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said, smiling in a most provocative way, and squeezed his hand.

  “Are you ready now?” he asked in a whisper.

  She nodded and whispered back, “I am.”

  He bent and kissed her lightly. Then he turned away, as if he were going to leave, only to turn back and kiss her again, but this time he took her into his arms.

  She felt her knees shaking and her heart pounded. She had no idea a kiss could be so exhilarating.

  Brock pulled away slowly. “It wasn’t too soon?” he asked.

  “No, it was right on time,” she said.

  “Good.” He turned and started down the steps. “Until tomorrow, Sarah. Goodnight.”

  Sarah turned and opened the door. She closed it behind her and leaned against it until she caught her breath and stilled her heart.

  She’d seen her mother with her boyfriend in heated clutches, kissing and fondling, and the sight had made her ill. She’d no idea how delightful it could be when it was done at the right time and with the right person.

  Chapter 3

  Brock drove his buggy back to his mansion in a daze. They suited!

  He’d have to start moving his things and staying in the drafty house, but he wanted one more night in the luxury of his own home. He dreaded leaving his comfort zone, but he had no choice. So far, Sarah hadn’t seemed concerned at all that he wasn’t wealthy.

  When he kissed her the first time he hadn’t expected to be so moved by the simple gesture. He’d turned away thinking one kiss was enough for the first outing, but just had to go back for one more. She was everything a man could want in a woman.

  He entered his house and sought out Martha, who he found in the kitchen plucking a chicken.

  “Martha, remember I told you I was writing to a woman in Ohio, and planned on bringing her here to court?”

  She nodded. “I remember. Is she here, then?” she said without looking up from her plucking.

  “She is, and I really am fond of her, but I don’t want her to marry me because of my wealth. So I’m moving into the house I bought from Pete Mullins. I need you to come with me as a widowed aunt who has no family.”

  She dropped the chicken into the sink, and stared at him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No. I need you to cook…” Brock cringed… “and clean.”

  “What?” she yelled. “I don’t clean!”

  When Brock told her how much money he’d pay her while she stayed at the house with him, her eyes grew wide.

  “I’ll clean,” she said. “When do I start?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Good grief!”

  “I’ll move our things to the old house very early tomorrow morning, and then I’m taking Sarah to the Mushroom site in Brookville.”

  “That will take you all day to go there and come back,” she said. “What will I do all day in that place?”

  “I thought it would give you a good opportunity to familiarize yourself with the place and clean it a bit, make up fresh beds, and whatever else needs doing.”

  Martha sighed. “If I didn’t need the money, I’d never agree to this.”

  “It won’t be so bad, and remember Sarah knows nothing about this house, or father and I running the bank. She thinks I’m just a teller.”

  “When do you plan on telling her?”

  “After she marries me.”

  Martha sighed, again. “Do you think that’s wise? Once she agrees to marry you is when you should tell her.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Silly man. Why would any woman not want to marry a wealthy man who happens to be handsome and charming as well?”

  “I’ll think about it. She seems enamored with the house and seems anxious to move in and start fixing it up,” he said. “I just want to hear her say the word ‘love’ first, then I’ll tell her.”

  “If she’s anything like me, Brock, you’ll need to say it first.”

  “I will, Martha. As soon as I’m sure.”

  “I’m hoping it won’t be too long,” she muttered.

  Brock rose early, moved his personal items into the house and left a disheartened Martha there. He then rode to pick up Sarah for their day trip.

  Sarah loved seeing the mushroom-shaped rocks. She’d never seen anything like it before. At first, she thought they’d be soft to the touch as a mushroom would be, but they were definitely rocks.

  Brock was in an excellent mood, and he made Sarah laugh by hiding behind a large mushroom stem, and just as she began to panic at finding him missing, he’d peek around the rock.

  After a while he asked, “Are you ready for lunch?”

  She hadn’t eaten much breakfast since she’d been in a hurry to get ready. “I’m famished,” she said.

  Brock brought out the picnic basket and they settled beneath a large mushroom rock on a blanket. He opened the basket and gave them each a napkin and a piece of fried chicken.

  “Mm,” Sarah said. “This chicken is delicious. Don’t tell me you made this.”

  “No. It was Martha.”

  “Martha?” Sarah could barely swallow as she waited for him to tell her who Martha was.

  “Yes. Didn’t I mention I live with Aunt Martha? She’s a widow with no family. She cooks and cleans for me in return for my taking her in. I would have welcomed her anyway, as she’s a very sweet woman.

  Sarah felt disappointed. She wanted to cook and clean for her husband. It was something she’d looked forward to.

  “Is something wrong, Sarah?”

  “If we marry, couldn’t Aunt Martha sit and knit or something? I really would like to clean and cook for my family. I’m a nurturer.”

  “I’m sure when the time comes we could work something out. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “She does make a delicious fried chicken though. I might let her make it on Sundays.”

  “She’s also a nurturer, but she isn’t crazy about cleaning. I’m sure she’d let you take that over.”

  “How old is she? If we ever have a baby I could use the help, I suppose.”

  “I really have no idea,” Brock said. “Want a pickle?”

  “Is she your father’s sister or your mother’s sister?”

  “I’m sorry, did you say you wanted a pickle?”

  “No, but thank you.”

  So, he’s evading the question about Aunt Martha. What’s with that? Should she ask it again? Just as she was about to, he presented her with dessert.

  “How about this?” he said opening a cloth napkin to reveal a piece of chocolate cake.

  “No, thank you,” she answered.

  “No cake?”

  “I don’t usually eat sweets.”

  Sarah watched him eat his cake. She would have loved a slice, but she was minding her weight. She’d brought a dress to get married in, and it was tight to begin with. Not being a skinny person, she had to manage what she ate.

  After he’d finished his cake, she watched his methodical removal of the picnic paraphernalia.

  “Let’s walk a bit before we have to head for home,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along with him, building up to a run.

  After they’d sped past several more mushrooms, Brock pulled her down a path into the woods.

  “It’s a nature path of sorts,” he said. They finally slowed to a walk, and soon they were enveloped in a dark forest.<
br />
  “Look,” Sarah said, “A cardinal. Isn’t he beautiful?”

  “How do you know it’s a he?”

  “Because he’s so bold,” she said with a laugh.

  He sat down on a flat rock and patted the space next to him. She sat beside him.

  He put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder. “I wish we could stay longer. I love it here,” she said.

  “Maybe we’ll come back after we’re married, and can stay longer.”

  She removed her head from his shoulder and sat up straight, “Is that a sloppy proposal?”

  He laughed. Then he got down on one knee. “Will you marry me, Sarah?”

  “I’ll give you my answer when you tell me which parent Aunt Martha is related to.”

  He hit his head with his hand. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

  “That was a definite question evasion, and that makes me even more curious.”

  “I’ll tell you that, if you answer my question first,” he said, still on his knee. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  He stood, and sat beside her. Embracing her he moved her chin with his finger into a good position and then kissed her. This time the kiss was a bit more heated than the last, and Sarah thought she’d faint from it.

  “Thank you,” he whispered when he broke the kiss. “I promise to make you happy.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, again. “Now, who is Aunt Martha?”

  “My maid.”

  “Maid?” she asked raising her head to look at him.

  “Yes. I splurge a bit because I’m terrible at cooking and cleaning.”

  “Why didn’t you just say she was your maid, then? Why the mystery?”

  “I like mysteries. I had you wondering now, didn’t I?” he said.

  Sarah sighed.

  Brock was relieved when Sarah let the subject lie. He stood and pulled her up with him. It was uncomfortable hugging and kissing while sitting on that hard rock. He pulled her close.

  “Now that we are betrothed, we get to take a few liberties,” he said, looking into her blue eyes.