Mail Order Runaway

by Julianna Blake

  “Oh Gideon, I’m so sorry,” she cried, the tears trickling down her cheeks. “I wanted so much to be the wife you needed. I’ve tried so hard, really I have. But I just…I just don’t have the experience that you need from a wife. I…I should have been honest with you. I should have told you the moment I stepped off the train, but…” she looked away, embarrassed. “You were so handsome, and kind, and you were everything I’ve ever wanted in a husband. This life—it’s exactly what I always dreamed of. Once I had it, I was afraid it would slip through my fingers. I wanted to tell you…to tell you everything…but I just couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I was afraid you’d send me back.” She let go of his hand and buried her face in her hands, wishing the floor would open and swallow her up.

  He pulled her close, hugging her tight. “It’s alright. I figured as much. Once a few weeks had passed and you still hadn’t ‘adjusted’ to your new kitchen and all, I figured something was amiss. I should have just asked you before, instead of letting my frustration build up. But I promise that will never happen again.”

  “And I promise that I will learn how to cook meals that will make that hollow leg of yours happy, and sew curtains and shirts that will make you proud—starting with the two shirts that I ruined…and then made worse, trying to repair them.” She smiled through her tears. “Honestly, we really were sewing over at Constance’s house—but my work was so atrocious, I was embarrassed to show you. But yesterday, I completed the plackets of a shirtwaist all by myself!”

  “So you didn’t work at a shirtwaist factory?”

  She blushed, shaking her head. “Not really. I…I helped out in the office on occasion, but I never worked on the factory floor. I did sew a few times before, but it’s been so long, I forgot most of what I learned.”

  “Why would you lie like that?” he asked, perplexed. “No—wait. I told you I wouldn’t judge, and I’m not going to. Obviously you felt you had to, even though it was the wrong choice.”

  “It was, and I’m so sorry.” She looked away, wondering how to find the courage to reveal the rest to him.

  “Adelaide.” He took her hands again. “There aren’t any other surprises, are there? I’d rather know now. I suspect you’re not as much of a fan of Shakespeare as I thought.”

  “I’m not. I prefer a lighter fare. Books that make me smile, with a happy ending. And of course, anything sheep-related.”

  He laughed. “That explains your reaction to my gifts.” His smile faded, and he squeezed her hands in his. “Is there anything else I should know? I want to make a fresh start, and we can only do that by being honest.”

  Here was her chance—confess all, and free herself of the burden of her lies and the tiresome charade. She longed to hear her own name on his lips, and to have him know her fully, for who she really was.

  “I…”

  A loud pounding came from the door, startling them both.

  “Open up in there! I heard tell there’s a new bride in town, fresh from the train!” boomed a jovial voice through the thick wooden door.

  Gideon’s mouth dropped open. “Emmett?!” He dropped Elinor’s hand, forgetting all about her as he rushed to the door and flung it open.

  “In the flesh!” The young man in the doorway was tanned and rough-looking, with a short, grizzled beard, but she recognized the family resemblance. He had the same brilliant eyes, and the same wide grin—though his held a hint of mischief that Gideon’s didn’t have—and the same thick hair, though it was more curly than shaggy, and the color of coffee with cream. He was a little shorter, noticeably broader, and a whole lot dirtier than Gideon was—the pungent smell of him wafted through the open door.

  “What are you doing here?” Gideon said as his brother caught him in a bear hug. “Ugh…and how long has it been since you took a bath?”

  “Came into town for some civilized company. And I’d have bathed first—was going to rent me a room and pay for a bath—but when I stopped for a quick drink at the saloon, I heard my brother has up and got married, with nary a word to me!”

  “And how would I get word to you, little brother? You come into Helena for mail less than every two months during the summer.”

  “Well, I gotta seek my fortune while the sun shines—mining is no fun in the cold.”

  “I suppose that’s part of why you came into town then?”

  “Yeah, figured I’d bask in the luxury of a warm bath, a cozy bed and few hot meals in town…maybe imbibe a drink or two. Might even spend the winter in town—the cold has already set in out in the mountains. Brrr!” His gaze shifted to Elinor as she stood, waiting awkwardly to be introduced. “Hey, there, you must be my new sis.” He stepped forward, arms outstretched. “Come give your new brother a hug.”

  Elinor’s face must have blanched, because Gideon held him back with an arm.

  “Not so fast there, little brother. If you want to so much as shake hands with my pretty bride, you’ll do it squeaky-clean. I don’t want to smell that stink on her from now until bath night.”

  He gave her a wink. “Suppose proper introductions will have to wait.”

  Elinor didn’t consider a hug from a stranger “proper”, but she didn’t say so—she couldn’t seem to be irritated with the smelly man who had just tracked mud across her clean floor. His smile was infectious, and somehow he managed to make his flippant attitude appear adorable. She suspected that the handsome face that lurked under that layer of dirt and facial hair had broken the heart of many a young girl in his time.

  “Well, at least I can tell you her name. Emmett, this is Adelaide…” Gideon gestured toward her.

  Elinor squirmed upon hearing the name again—she’d been so close to revealing the truth and finally ending the charade. How could she do that with Gideon’s brother in the house?

  “…and Adelaide, this here is my no-good, trouble-making, family-neglecting little brother.” He grinned at his brother, whose smile melted into an irksome expression.

  “Hey! Most of that may be true,” Emmett retorted, “but don’t ever say I’m neglecting family. I’m working hard, is all. Just like Pa did.” He scowled up at his brother, who appeared simultaneously chastened and annoyed.

  What is all this about? Elinor wondered.

  “Sorry,” Gideon said. “I didn’t mean it that way—I only meant that you could visit more often, that’s all.”

  “Aw, don’t mention it. I’m just glad to see ya.” He slapped Gideon on the chest. “I’ll just heat myself up some water to fill up the tub. And is the tub still behind the cookstove, or did your enchanting Adelaide move it?” He winked at her again as he walked past Gideon, toward the kitchen.

  “Uh…” Gideon looked at Elinor, who felt herself turn beet red at the idea of her brother-in-law stripping down in her kitchen. “It’s still there, but why don’t we leave it there, to stay warm, and I’ll haul the hot water and the tub out to the barn for you.”

  “The barn?” Emmett whirled around. “Are you joking? It’s cold out there. It’s not bad in the sun, fully clothed…but naked in a barn?”

  Elinor blushed even more as he spoke.

  “Emmett, you’re embarrassing poor Adelaide.”

  He glanced at her, but she skirted her gaze away, clasping her hands together in front of her.

  “I’m sorry, little brother, but you can’t take a bath in the kitchen,”

  “I can pull the curtain across the doorway, just like we always did when we took baths before.”

  “Adelaide was about to serve dinner, and she’s in the middle of preparing tonight’s supper, as well. If we’d have known ahead of time, we’d have planned around your arrival.”

  Emmett sighed. “Fine. You bring the tub outside and draw the water from the stove’s water reservoir, and I’ll haul in the water to replace it with.” He walked out the back door, muttering something about how he should have had himself another drink and a bath instead of rushing to see his brother.

  Gideon looked at Elinor and
they both broke out laughing.

  “And that is my brother for you.”

  “He’s…quite a character.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. He’s really a top-notch fella—he has a good heart—but he still has that wild streak in him. I keep hoping he’ll grow out of it. I don’t want him to end up like my father.” His eyes clouded over, as if he were reliving memories from long ago.

  “Gideon…what’s all this business about your father? I thought he died along with your mother, from consumption.”

  “He…ah…not exactly. I guess I didn’t want to get into it through letters, but…it’s more complicated than that. I’ll tell you later.” He looked away, and walked toward the kitchen. “I need to get that water to the barn so I don’t have to listen to my brother’s caterwauling.”

  Elinor watched him go, wringing her hands and wondering if she’d just lost her one chance to tell him the truth, without ruining everything.

  Chapter 21

  Wednesday, September 24, 1890

  Elinor hummed while she set the table for supper, finding herself in a very pleasant mood. Emmett had kept them entertained the night before, with tales of his own adventures and those of his eccentric fellow prospectors.

  Then she had contentedly curled up with Gideon all night, relishing the fact that the tension between them had passed—except for a few moments when she tried to get him to explain himself about his Pa’s death. Based on his reaction, she wondered if he would ever tell her.

  She tried not to think about the fact that she was still hiding her true identity from her husband. I’ll tell him just as soon as his brother leaves, she thought. It was a very serious conversation, and surely not one he’d want to have with his brother in the house, sleeping on a cot near the woodstove. He preferred sleeping there, in the same spot he’d slept before he had moved, rather than the spare bedroom, where Nina used to sleep.

  As Gideon and Elinor had laid in bed the night before, Gideon had told her that Emmett had been contrary and independent throughout his childhood, preferring to sleep by the woodstove even after they’d moved to the more spacious farm, rather than share a room with Gideon.

  In order to keep his wild brother in line, Gideon had tried to convince Emmett to farm the land with him when he came of age, promising him forty acres if he did. Emmett left anyway. She could tell her husband was worried about Emmett’s future.

  Elinor set out the plates, and served up cornbread, chicken fritters, and potatoes, along with some wedges of fresh tomatoes from Constance’s garden. She had just set a pitcher of sun tea, cold from the root cellar, on the table when the two brothers entered.

  The both looked tired and hungry, and Emmett pulled his hat off and wiped his sweaty brow.

  “I forgot just how hard farm work is,” he breathed, hanging his hat on a peg. “Now I remember why I left.”

  “Oh please, you can’t tell me you don’t work just as hard, moving barrow after barrow of rocks and sifting through water and wet earth at your sluice, looking for your ‘riches’. I doubt mining is much less work than this farm is, if you’re consistent with it.”

  “That may be so,” Emmett sighed as he sagged into a chair, “but I’m not at the mercy of the harvest, or of the weather—while I can’t work in poor weather, I also don’t have to worry that the gold will blow away—and I’m my own boss. If I don’t want to work, I don’t have to.”

  “You don’t work, you don’t make money. Same as me. So I suspect farming and mining are much the same, in that regard.” Gideon hung up his own hat, pumped water at the sink, rinsing them under the icy flow, then wiping them on a flour sack towel.

  Emmett paused, his fork mid-air, ready to dive into the food, when he saw Elinor’s arched brows, and sheepishly set it down and got up to wash his hands.

  “True,” he called over his shoulders while he scrubbed, “I have to work regular if I ever want to make money…but when I make money, it’s not the pittance of a harvest earning.”

  “Is that so?” Gideon folded his arms. “Hit the mother lode already, did you?”

  He laughed, and his brother squirmed as he toweled off his hands.

  “Naw, but I make enough. I found a vein of gold just last month.”

  “And what did that buy, before the vein ran out? More equipment? Supplies to build a better sluice? Or just some food and a few nights in town?”

  Emmett clenched his jaw and said nothing, as both men sat down with a sigh. Elinor could see they’d been working hard, and their hunger and fatigue was creating tension between them.

  “Did you get the fence reinforced?” She thought a change of subject was in order.

  “Yes, it’s done,” Gideon sighed, “and the sheep are back in the pasture. I can’t believe how much damage was done such a small herd. You’d have thought a hundred head of angry cattle tramped through there! If Warren would just take the time to rotate his cattle, his own pasture wouldn’t be so bare, and the cattle wouldn’t go elsewhere.” He sighed, then folded his hands, and paused. “Emmett?”

  Emmett looked up, chewing on a bite of cornbread. “Sorry,” he mumbled around his mouthful, and set his slice on the plate, brushing crumbs from his hands onto the plate. He folded his hands, but remained silent—chewing—with his eyes downcast, while Gideon said grace.

  The men dug in, eating heartily while Gideon talked about starting on cutting the next day, and Elinor asked what vegetables Gideon would like in the garden come spring. Gideon missed having the extra bounty of a kitchen garden, since his sister married in the spring and Elinor hadn’t arrived until summer’s end.

  Elinor was long finished with her meal, and even Gideon appeared full, when Emmett reached for another helping. Elinor couldn’t believe the appetite on the man.

  “Adelaide, this is the best food I’ve had in months.”

  “Thank you, Emmett.” She blushed under the compliment. “But really, I’m still learning.”

  “Well, it tastes just fine by me. It’s true, I haven’t had a decent meal in months, until I came here last night, but I still know bad food when I eat it, and this ain’t bad. Not bad at all.” He grinned and took his third piece of cornbread. “In fact, it’s mighty fine.”

  “It is tasty, Adelaide,” agreed her husband. “I can see that each meal from here on out is going to out-do the last.”

  “Oh dear, don’t presume that,” she gasped. “I’m far from proficient yet. I have a lot to learn, and I suspect there still may be a hard biscuit or dry pancake in our future.”

  “Nevertheless, you did a fine job.” He leaned over and patted her hand, and her heart soared.

  “Well, I think I’ve stuffed myself. I can’t eat another bite.” Gideon patted his belly. “I’m going to get the barn chores done so I can come in and relax all the sooner.”

  “Mmf,” Emmett said around a mouthful of cornbread, “let me get one more piece of cornbread, and I’ll help.”

  “Nah, you eat up while you can. I just need to milk the cow and put out some fresh straw. It’s getting cold enough that the horses are coming into the barns at night more than they’re staying out.”

  “You don’t have to twist my arm,” Emmett called over his shoulder as Gideon grabbed his hat and a coat and went out. He turned and grinned at Elinor. “Any chance you have extra potatoes?”

  Elinor grinned. “I think there’s a bit more in the pan for you.”

  “You’re a saint,” he quipped, in a bad Irish brogue, “as sure as heaven, you’re a saint, my lass!”

  Elinor giggled.

  “I have to say, I’m surprised Gideon would marry himself a Catholic.”

  “I’m not Catholic. I…well…not every Irish family is Catholic you know.” She turned away, embarrassed, and went about scooping up the last of the potatoes in the pot. She was trying hard not to tell any more lies. She wanted to stay as honest as she could, until she could straighten things out.

  “Really? A Protestant Irish lass? I didn�
�t know there was such a thing.”

  “There are plenty.”

  She heaped the last scoop of potatoes onto his plate and he forked up a bite, eagerly.

  “Actually, come to think of it,” he pointed the fork at her, “you don’t look all that Irish to me.”

  Elinor pretended to brush crumbs off her apron. “I hear that a lot, actually.” She took a deep breath, searching her mind for a way to change the subject. “Tell me, Emmett, why aren’t you married yet, at the ripe old age of twenty-two?” she teased, and sat herself across from him. Ha! That will keep his mind off my lack of Irish looks.

  “Oh, brother, not you too, Adelaide! Every woman I meet wants to tie me down with a wife, and Gideon wants to tie me down to a farm. Can’t a man have a little freedom?” He sighed, then pointed the fork at her again. “You know, Gideon is twenty-four, and he only just got married. Give him a hard time, why don’t you?”

  “True, but Gideon was busy, raising his siblings.” She let the statement hang in the air.

  Emmett put his fork on his plate and pushed the plate away. “That he did. And I owe him a lot for it, I know. I didn’t always appreciate it. No one wants a brother, especially one only two years older, telling you what to do. But he kept me out of trouble, made me finish school, kept a roof over our heads and food on the table, and took care of Ma when she was ill. Then he worked hard enough to save up the money for a down-payment on this farm a few years ago. Heck, we did better with no parents than a lot of families did with two parents. That’s because of Gideon.”

  “I’m sure you all contributed.”

  He nodded. “We did. But Gideon held us all together. I suppose I haven’t shown him much gratitude. He wants me to farm with him, but…” he shook his head “…farming just isn’t in my blood.”

  “And mining is?”

  “Yeah, our Pa had the fever, and it’s in my blood too. Pa died before he struck it rich, but it’s going to happen for me. I feel it.”

  “Emmett…” Elinor twisted a napkin in her hands, not meeting his eyes “…what happened with your father?”