Mail Order Runaway

by Julianna Blake

  He was surprised at how tasty the zucchini bread was. Then he remembered—she’d been with Constance Pruett. Most likely Adelaide hadn’t baked it at all.

  Can she do any of the things she promised me she could do? I told her I needed a wife who could look after me and the farm. These duties are only the beginning. If she can’t keep up now, what chance does she have of keeping up when there were children to look after and a kitchen garden to maintain? What shape will the house be in, come harvest time?

  As he devoured the zucchini bread, avoiding Adelaide’s sure-to-be-dry chicken, he wondered if he would have married her, had she told him how inept she was at keeping a house. He cared very much for her—had been feeling recently that maybe he was already growing to love her. But what kind of future could he have with a woman, if she had deceived him? Have I made a mistake in marrying her?

  At last he took a reluctant bite of the chicken concoction. To his surprise and delight, it was very good. Not quite delicious…but good!

  Maybe I’ve been too hard on her. Even still, something was not quite right with Adelaide, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  ***

  Elinor cried herself to sleep. At some point, she became aware of her husband in the room with her. She felt a quilt being drawn up over her, and felt the bed move as he slipped into it.

  It was a sign that Gideon had moved past the worst of his anger, but that didn’t mean Elinor was ready to talk to him—she was still hurt, angry, and most of all, afraid. She didn’t want their marriage to fall apart so soon—not when she had finally had almost everything she’d ever dreamed of. The only thing she lacked was his love…and she feared she would never have it.

  It was better to lie still, pretend she was sleeping, and put off talking things over until she absolutely had to. Some childish part of her hoped that when she awoke, everything would be back to normal, and they would go on as if nothing had happened.

  But sleep eluded Elinor. Once she heard the rhythmic lull of Gideon’s breathing, she was able to relax a little, and attempt to get some sleep…but her anxious thoughts kept her lying awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were fitful.

  Chapter 19

  Tuesday September 23, 1890

  Cartwright Farm

  She awoke to bright sunlight filling the room, and groaned, pulling the pillow back over her head. After a minute, she sensed Gideon’s empty spot beside her, and braved the glaring daylight to check.

  He was gone.

  Looking at the window, she could tell it was much later than she usually got up, and she rushed to get out of bed, anxious that he would be mad that breakfast would be late as well. But no sooner had she arisen and slipped her feet into her slippers, she saw a note lying on the dresser.

  Elinor snatched it up, reading it quickly.

  Adelaide,

  Gone into town.

  Gideon.

  The curt note said nothing about when he would return. Was he mad that she hadn’t gotten up at dawn to make his breakfast? Why hadn’t he woken her? Then a pang of fear hit—could he have gone to Madeline Porter to tell her that he was calling things off, and wanted to send Elinor back to Massachusetts? Surely that couldn’t be true…could it? Was he angry enough to ignore the indissoluble bond of matrimony, and send her packing?

  She paced, wrapping her arms around her to fend off the chilly September morning air. If only he’d told her where he was going. Could he be drowning his sorrows at a saloon? Gideon didn’t seem to be the type, but they’d only known each other for a few weeks, and she’d never seen him more than mildly irritated until the night before. Who knew what Gideon’s habits were, when he was angry?

  He was supposed to start the second cutting today! The fact that he’d left, instead, didn’t bode well. He had intended to begin his second cutting the day before, but had been delayed by the damage to the fence. Putting off the cutting another day would risk his yield—if he didn’t harvest before the fall rains began, the hay might not dry properly after it was cut.

  What does this mean for me? For us? She pace, her heart beating wildly. Should I have told him the truth last night? It could have made things worse, but then again, it would be over and done with, and maybe it would help him understand. At least then he would know I haven’t been over at the Pruetts to gossip, or to avoid my duties!

  If he was calm when he came back, perhaps she should broach the subject. She pondered over that, changing her mind multiple times, before the finally decided that she didn’t want to risk pushing him over the edge again. If he seemed to want to talk, and air things out, she’d consider it—otherwise, she would keep the truth to herself.

  Maybe if I can conceive a child soon, he’ll be so happy, that I can tell him everything, and the joyful news will temper the truth.

  She only hoped her marriage could last that long.

  ***

  Gideon leaned forward in his chair in the pastor’s office, his elbows perched on his knees as he hung his head. “I just don’t know what to do. She’s not what I expected.”

  Reverend Yates laughed. “No wife ever is, no matter how long you knew her before you married. Mrs. Yates and I grew up together. I thought I knew all there was to know about her. But marriage—living with a person day in and day out—has a way of surprising you.”

  “I understand that—and especially in my case, marrying a mail order bride, I expected a lot of surprises. What I didn’t expect was outright lies. Adelaide told me she could cook up a storm, that she’d helped care for her younger siblings, that she’d helped her mother keep house, and that she worked as a seamstress in a shirtwaist factory. She let me believe—no, she plain out told me—that she had all the skills I was looking for in a wife.”

  “Perhaps being in charge of a household—even one without children—is different than helping at home. In time, I’m sure she’ll adapt.”

  “You’re a pastor, you don’t understand how hard it is to keep a farm running, even with a lot of help. I’ve struggled since my siblings all moved away, especially my sisters. They did the cooking and cleaning and laundry. Even though they went to school up until the year they married, they still helped out a lot around the house when they were home. It’s been hard, doing it all alone. I thought I was marrying a helpmeet…but I wasn’t. I was marrying a burden.”

  “Come now, Gideon. Surely that charming bride of yours isn’t all that bad!”

  Gideon sighed, running both hands through his hair. “No, I suppose not. She is cooking the meals, but they’ve been pretty bad. Edible, mostly, but not palatable, and often late. She’s done the laundry, but she’s ruined a couple of my shirts in the process. I haven’t seen a single thing she’s sewn on the brand new sewing machine I bought her, but she is spending two days a week with Constance Pruett, neglecting her duties, supposedly in order to sew. But I suspect it’s more of a gossip session, or an excuse to get out of work, because I still don’t have curtains on my window or any shirts repaired—including the ones she ruined in the wringer!”

  “Hold on there, Gideon. I know Constance Pruett—she’s a dear friend of my wife’s. If I can tell you anything about that woman, it’s that she doesn’t gossip, and wouldn’t tolerate gossip around her. My wife wouldn’t spend time with her if she was the gossiping sort.”

  Gideon sighed. “I know. You’re right. I’ve never known Mrs. Pruett to have a wagging tongue. But you know how women get, with their chatter. They must be doing something other than sewing, most of the time, or else they’re making curtains for the Pruett house, because I’m certainly not seeing a single item that Adelaide has sewn.”

  “Is it possible that your wife is just lonely? She traveled out here to marry a stranger, leaving behind a large, bustling family, and everything she’s ever known. She’s a city girl, Gideon. She may not have grown up in Boston itself, but she grew up close to a large city, and in a crowded neighborhood full of large Irish families. S
he’s used to community. She doesn’t have that alone all day on a farm. Perhaps you shouldn’t make a fuss about the sewing sessions—even if they are mostly just women-talk.”

  “Truly, I wouldn’t mind so much, even if she was late with supper every time she went over there, or had Mrs. Pruett over our place. But she’s late with supper every night, and late with dinner every day, too. Sometimes I think the only reason she isn’t late for breakfast is because she wakes when I do. In fact, this morning, she was still sleeping away when I left.”

  “Now, that I can understand your frustration with. It sounds like she doesn’t have her duties handled well. I wonder if she’s aware that cooking in the mountains is different than by the coastline?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I don’t know much about cooking, but I know my wife cried her eyes out over more than a few meals ruined before a neighbor explained that cooking at higher elevations is different, somehow. Takes longer, for some strange reason. After she took our neighbor’s advice, her cooking was back to normal fairly quick.”

  Gideon gave that some thought. “But she bakes sometimes with Constance Pruett—wouldn’t Mrs. Pruett have passed on that information?”

  “Not necessarily. Mrs. Pruett has lived here a long time—she might not have thought to mention it, having gotten used to it. And if Adelaide doesn’t know, it could be affecting how well she’s timing her cooking to get meals on the table.”

  “I had no idea! Now I feel terrible.”

  “Don’t. You didn’t know. Besides, it sounds like Adelaide has other issues. Perhaps she didn’t lie, so much as exaggerate. I’m not defending that, but many people hide their worst qualities when courting, and highlight their best qualities…even to the point of exaggerating them. It’s not something I’d condone, but it happens. I’ll bet a calm, reasonable talk with her can set things straight. Just try to be patient and understanding, and get it all aired out at once, so you can move forward. And from now on, instead of focusing on Adelaide’s weaknesses, try to focus on her strengths. Surely there are some things about her to admire?”

  Gideon sighed, feeling sheepish. He was beginning to realize that he’d overreacted, and that if he’d just talked about things that were bothering him right away, as was his usual manner of handling things, they wouldn’t have built up until he lost his temper on a day when he was tired and angry already. He looked out the window, over the vacant lot behind the church, where everyone parked their wagons on Sundays. “Yeah, there are a lot of things to like about her. In fact, before yesterday, I was thinking to myself that…that maybe I was starting to fall in love with her, already.”

  “Women do have a way of working their way into our hearts, when we least expect it. One day, my wife was just an annoying girl who sat in front of me in the schoolhouse. The next day, I was head over heels for the girl. Still am, in fact.” He grinned. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that woman—anything that wasn’t sinful, that is.”

  Gideon laughed. “Of course.”

  “I think if you focus more on the things that make her near and dear to your heart, you’ll start forgetting about the areas where she is lacking. In fact, forget all about the girl from the letters, and concentrate on the girl right in front of you—warts and all. She seems like a delightful girl, and if I were a betting man—which I’m not,” he laughed, “I’d bet my last dollar that every bachelor in town would have lined up for her, if you’d have been foolish enough to toss her aside instead of marrying her.” The pastor raised an eyebrow. “Even if she couldn’t cook a thing.”

  Just the idea of Adelaide with another man made his stomach lurch. He realized that, poor cooking or not, his life was a lot better for having her in it. He’d been happy the last few weeks, and even if supper was late every evening, it still was better than coming in dead-tired, and having to cook it himself. “That really does put things in perspective.”

  “I hoped it would. And just remember, if you feel yourself getting frustrated with her housekeeping abilities, just remember this: cooking skills can be improved fairly easily with proper teaching and experience, but a sweet temperament?” The older man shook his head. “That’s much harder to learn, once you’re past childhood. And in a marriage, it’s worth its weight in gold. I hear a lot of things in this room, so if you believe nothing else I say, believe that.”

  “I do.” He shook his head, thoroughly chastened. “Thanks, Reverend Yates. I appreciate your time. I think I know what to do, now.” Gideon leaned across the pastor’s desk to shake his hand, then picked up his hat from where it sat in the seat beside his.

  “I’m glad I could help. Just remember my door is always open.”

  That’s what I need to make sure Adelaide understands, he thought as he left Reverend Yates’ office at the back of the small church. I need to show her that I’m always ready to listen and talk things over. I’ve been too worried about pleasing her to be upfront about my concerns. I want our marriage to be open and honest—I don’t want to run from problems, like by father did. Just look at what’s happened because I wasn’t open with her from the beginning!

  He had no respect for people who ran from their problems, and he darn sure wasn’t going to become one of them. He promised himself he’d never ignore problems in his marriage again.

  Chapter 20

  Elinor heard Gideon ride up on his horse. She had worked hard all morning, scrubbing the kitchen, making sure everything would be ready for dinner when he got home, gathering the eggs from the henhouse, dusting the house, making the bed, and even starting to peel the vegetables for that evening’s supper.

  When dinner time had come and gone, Elinor had chosen not to eat without him. She didn’t have much for breakfast either, she was so worried about where her husband had gone.

  Now, hearing Gideon’s arrival, she wiped her hands off on her apron as she waited near the back door for Gideon to come in from the barn. Five minutes passed interminably, but at last he walked up the back steps and opened the door.

  “Sorry I’m late for dinner.” He didn’t look at her as he squeezed past, and hung his hat on a peg near the door.

  “Dinner is ready and waiting!” she said eagerly. “I only have to dish it up.” She turned to rush away and fetch his food, but he caught her by the wrist.

  “Can we talk?”

  Elinor froze, her back still to him. She couldn’t discern from his tone whether he was still angry or not. “Sure.” Her voice quavered, and she followed as he led her into the parlor and tugged on her arm to get her to sit beside him on the settee.

  Her heart beat a frantic rhythm against her rib cage, and she had to fight to breathe.

  Please don’t let him leave me, she thought, her hands clutched in her lap. Please don’t let him send me away.

  “I just…I wanted to apologize,” he began.

  Her head snapped up in shock. “You do?”

  He nodded. “It was completely my fault. You were trying your best, and I was just so tired and angry about Warren’s cattle, and having to repair all that fencing by myself—Pruett would have helped, but he had to fix his own fence on the south side, where the cattle broke through, before they got to my field. I was so steaming mad, and tired, and hungry—”

  “I’m so sorry—”

  “Don’t be. I could see you were working hard to get it done. And it was the best meal you’ve made yet, by the way.”

  She blushed. “Thank you.”

  “Anyway, I just took my anger out on you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you for saying that. But if I hadn’t been late—”

  “If you hadn’t been running behind with supper, I’d probably have snapped at you for something else. And I feel awful that I implied that you’re a gossip—I could see that really bothered you.”

  “It did.”

  “I can tell you’re not that type, or I’d have had an earful of it by now,” he laughed. “But I also wanted to t
alk to you about something. I haven’t been open with you, and I normally am very forthright—I don’t run away from my problems. I handle them straight on, and I can’t tolerate people who run away from problems. I find it despicable.”

  Elinor saw the way his face puckered as he said it, and her heart shriveled inside. Does he know? Is he disgusted by me?

  “I don’t want to be like that,” he continued, “and I don’t want our marriage to be like that. So I’m going to just ask you straight out, in a calm manner, and I’m not going to lose my temper or belittle you, no matter what the answer. I promise.”

  He looked at her expectantly, and she nodded her head, though her body had gone rigid and her mouth was dry.

  “Adelaide…I don’t mean to insult you, but…your cooking, it’s…” he took a deep breath, “it’s not what I expected. Your cleaning is better, but not by much. You’ve ruined shirts in the laundry, and…well…for all the times you’ve gone to work on your sewing with Constance, I haven’t seen you bring home a single finished project.”

  Elinor bit her lip, and tried to calm her racing heart.

  Gideon took her hand in his. “I just need you to be honest with me, and I promise not to judge you. Do…do you have any housekeeping skills at all? Because it seems that what you told me in your letters and what I’m actually seeing firsthand…it’s just not matching up.”

  Elinor’s lips trembled for a moment as she tried to stem the tide of emotions flooding her, but it was no use. The time had come to confess, and her heart was near to breaking with the fear of losing her husband.