“Can we do it out here?” Phoebe glanced around and then motioned to the section of wildflowers by the garden. “Maybe over there? I think it’s pretty.”
Pretty? Those things grew like weeds all over the place. He had a heck of a time keeping them out of the garden.
“If it’s alright with you,” the preacher turned to Abe, “we’ll do it over there.”
Abe shrugged in response. What did he care? It wasn’t like this was a real wedding. They could do this in the barn for all he cared.
The preacher and Phoebe’s mother headed for the wildflowers. Not deterred in the least by his lack of enthusiasm, Phoebe took Abe’s hand and urged him to follow them. With a sigh, Abe forced his feet into motion. If it’d been anyone but Phoebe, he didn’t think they could have talked him into this. But since it was Phoebe, he found himself complying much too easily. It had to be those curtains. Something about those stupid things stirred up something inside him he didn’t like. And when she was holding his hand, it was more intense. Something inside of him liked all of this far too much.
Determined not to dwell on it, he forced his mind on all the work he needed to do in the garden. On second thought, he’d let her do it. Might as well get her started on her new life as soon as possible. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.
“It does my heart good to join two people who are in love,” the preacher said.
Two people who are in love? Was the man daft?
The preacher smiled at him and Phoebe then added, “I’ve been marrying people for over thirty years, and I can always tell how a couple feels, even if they don’t know it.” Then, to Abe’s horror, the preacher winked at him.
Wishful thinking. That’s what the preacher was experiencing. It was only his desire to marry couples in love that made him believe he and Phoebe had such feelings for each other. Content with this line of reasoning, Abe gave in and listened as the man rambled on about staying together for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health for as long as they both lived.
Abe wondered if the preacher had any idea how many white people broke these vows. There were several people he could think of off the top of his head who thought little of them. And even he was the product of such a thing. Had it not been for his father committing adultery, he wouldn’t even be here.
At one point, he thought to tell the preacher these words he made him and Phoebe repeat were pointless, that they meant nothing, that it was so much like the white man to promise something and not do it. But what good would it have done?
When the preacher finished, he said, “You may kiss your bride, Abe.”
It was on the tip of Abe’s tongue to say such formalities were unnecessary, but Phoebe stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him before he had time to protest. Thankfully, she had the sense to make it quick. It was embarrassing enough others were watching them, but it was even more annoying that a part of him liked it.
“Now, I’ll say congratulations,” the preacher said, turning to him and, once more, shaking his hand.
Abe resisted the urge to grumble under his breath that this was all a waste of time.
“Well, why don’t you come on in for some coffee and a piece of pie?” Phoebe’s mother asked the preacher.
“I would be honored,” the preacher said. He looked at Abe. “Maybe now you won’t mind coming to hear a sermon since you won’t have to come alone,” he whispered to Abe.
“You realize most of the people you preach to don’t do what you say,” Abe whispered in return, deciding not to keep quiet on this matter. He’d done good enough to keep silent through the vows.
“It’s my job to instruct,” he replied. “What people do with the instructions is up to them.” He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “God doesn’t care how you came to be here, Abe. He’s not like them.”
Abe caught Phoebe watching the exchange between them and grew uncomfortable. “I need to get back to the cow,” he told the preacher. “She doesn’t like it when I make her wait too long to milk her.”
Without waiting for anyone to respond, he went back into the barn.
***
“Abe’s never been one to express his feelings,” the preacher said as he hung up his hat on the hook by the door.
Phoebe led him and her mother to the kitchen table. “You two sit, and I’ll get everything.”
While they took a seat, she glanced out the window, and sure enough, Abe was still in the barn. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her sweaty hands on her skirt then retrieved the coffee cups. Her hands shook, and she prayed no one noticed. It’d taken considerable effort to get through the ceremony. But she’d done it.
She’d convinced Abe to give her a chance to prove he’d benefit from having her out here. And she was going to prove it. Just wait until he realized how serious she was. Sure, she grew up in a more civilized place, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle it out here. It was just a matter of determination.
She managed to pour coffee into three cups without spilling it, which was good considering her hands shook. Then she cut a slice of the fresh peach pie and put it on the plate for the preacher.
“Ma, do you want one?” she asked, looking over at her mother, who was still talking the poor preacher’s ear off about Phillip and his family.
“I don’t like to spoil my supper, so I’ll just have a small piece,” her mother replied.
Phoebe nodded and cut out a small slice for her mother.
“Phillip married in a church,” her mother was telling the preacher. “But back in Cincinnati, that was an easy thing to do. There are a lot of them there. It’s not like out here where we have to wait for someone like you to come in. A church wedding is nice, but I have to say watching my daughter marry outside with the sunlight streaming through the trees and lighting up the area around us, was a breathtaking sight. I can’t recall a time I’d seen anything so beautiful.”
“This is a beautiful territory,” the preacher began, “though it does have its hardships. I’ve seen my share of tragedy.” He sighed for a moment, as if reliving one or two events from his past. But then he smiled again and continued, “I’ve also seen some miracles. Not all of them are big ones. Most are small. So small, in fact, it’d be easy to mistake them for common occurrences.”
Phoebe placed the cups in front of them.
She was ready to bring them their slices of pie when the preacher made eye contact with her and said, “Abe getting married was nothing short of a miracle. That poor man hasn’t had anyone who’s cared anything about him since his ma died five years ago. He lost his uncle when he was only ten. It was just him and his ma after that, and she was weak so he had to grow up fast and take over the care of this place. It’ll be nice for him to have someone to help him.” He smiled at Phoebe. “Don’t let him fool you. He wouldn’t have married you if he didn’t want to. There’s no making Abe do anything he doesn’t want to. I don’t care how much someone argues with him. That boy is as stubborn as a mule.”
“It’s because he’s stubborn that he’s managed out here as well as he has,” her mother said after she took a sip of her coffee.
“Yes, it is,” he acknowledged. “It’s the only way anyone can stick it out this far from civilization. This kind of life isn’t for the faint of heart, I’ll tell you that. You two are brave ladies to be out here.”
“I don’t know if being brave has anything to do with it,” her mother said. “We had no money, and my son was struggling to make ends meet. Phoebe answered a mail-order bride ad to find someone who could support us. When we first came here, we thought we’d made the trip for nothing. It turned out another person posted that mail-order bride ad on Abe’s behalf, and Abe didn’t know about it.”
The preacher glanced over at Phoebe as she set the plates full of pie and forks in front of him and her mother. “Why would someone do that?”
Since he seemed to be asking her the question, Phoebe answered, “I think it was so Abe would
stop arguing with Carl Richie about the stream over there.” She pointed in the direction of the stream and land. “I suppose Carl thought Abe would have more important things to worry about if my mother and I were here.”
“Well,” he began as he picked up his fork, “sometimes when man does something out of selfishness, God turns it around for good.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about this whole thing,” Phoebe’s mother said. “Nothing happens by accident.”
“No, it doesn’t. You two are here for Abe, and I have no doubt you’ll be good for him. Every man, no matter how strong he thinks he is, needs people in his life who can accept him as he is.”
Phoebe’s gaze went back to the window. Abe was still in the barn. She had a nagging suspicion he was going to stay in there until the preacher left. And that was his right. He wasn’t the type who easily welcomed people into his life, and given what she knew, she couldn’t blame him. She only hoped, in time, he would allow himself the freedom to love her.
Chapter Sixteen
“What are you doing here?” Abe asked that evening after he opened his bedroom door.
Phoebe was sorting through a small pile of clothes she’d brought into his room. For the moment, the pile was gathered on the dresser.
This, however, wasn’t the worst of it. She was wearing nothing but a nightshirt that reached her knees. He’d never seen so much of a woman’s legs in his life, and he’d have to be dead not to let his gaze linger on them. Bringing his gaze up, he was aware the lack of layers only emphasized the curve of her breasts.
He blinked and forced his attention to a far more pressing matter, which happened to be the fact she was moving into his bedroom, the only safe place he had in this cabin.
“Why aren’t you in your room?” he asked.
“We’re married,” Phoebe said in the same matter-of-fact tone she’d used earlier that day in the barn. She took one of the dresses and turned to the armoire. “This is my room now.”
“I thought I made it clear we aren’t doing anything.” He gestured to the bed when she glanced at him. “In there.”
“You did. I know we’re not doing anything tonight.”
“Not just tonight. I mean, ever.”
“No, it’s just until you feel confident I can do everything that’s required of me to stay here.” She hung up another dress. “Nothing can happen between us tonight anyway. The lady’s time is upon me.”
It took him a moment to realize she meant she was on her monthly cycle. “Well, even when you’re done with it, we’re not doing anything.”
“Not right away.”
He fought back the urge to groan. What was wrong with her? Did it really please her to argue with him?
“I can’t sleep in the other bedroom,” she added. “My mother will ask questions, and I’d rather not answer them. I know we made a deal, but I don’t feel like explaining it to her.”
As much as he wanted to keep arguing, he couldn’t. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to tell her mother what they’d agreed to. It was complicated enough without dragging an innocent party into it. But still…
“What are you going to tell her when things don’t work out, and you head on out of here?” he asked.
“That’s not going to happen,” she replied. “So, you see, telling her anything would be pointless anyway.”
She turned to face him as if daring him to argue with her, but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t. When she had turned to him, she’d given him a much better view of her breasts, which were barely concealed under the thin fabric of her nightshirt. And worse, he could make out the tips of her nipples.
“Well, if you’re going to sleep in here, I’m going to sleep in the loft,” he finally decided.
Her eyes grew wide. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” he said as he grabbed a fresh pair of undergarments and shirt.
Lady’s time of month or not, she couldn’t expect him to keep his hands off of her if she was in bed with him. Drifting off to sleep in the loft was one thing. She’d been fully dressed, and it’d been an accident. This was on purpose, and she was practically naked. She probably had no idea what effect she was having on him, but he was only human and could only handle so much.
“Are you going to spend every night in the loft?” she asked.
“Yep, until you’re on the stagecoach.”
Ignoring her bewildered expression, he left the room and headed out for the barn. At least the night was a chilly one. That should go a long way in cooling his ardor. He had to show her just how hard life was out here. The sooner he did, the easier things would be.
***
Right after breakfast the next morning, Abe wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin then set it on the table. Looking at Phoebe, he asked, “Are you ready to set a trap?” before Phoebe had a chance to pick up anything to help her mother wash the dishes.
“Set the trap?” Phoebe replied.
“You said you were willing to learn how to do it.”
Noting the challenge in his eyes, she said, “I wasn’t trying to back out of doing it. I just thought I’d help my ma clean up first.” She motioned to the dirty dishes.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” her mother spoke up. “I can do these. You go on and set the trap.”
“Alright.” Phoebe headed for the bedroom she now shared with Abe, but she stopped and glanced at him. “I’m going to braid my hair so it doesn’t get in my way,” she told him before he could think she was going to do something like crawl out the window and hide.
Since he didn’t reply, she figured she’d made her point and went to the bedroom. It was going to take more than a simple trap to intimidate her. Once she had her hair braided, she came back out, surprised he’d taken the time to take the dishes over to the sink so her mother could wash them.
She bit her tongue and waited until they left the cabin before saying, “For someone who’s eager to get rid of me, you’re being awfully nice to my mother.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand what your mother has to do with this.”
“My mother has everything to do with this. I refused to leave her behind in Ohio because I can’t imagine my life without her. One of my requirements in marrying was that my husband be good to her.”
He snorted. “I’m not going to treat your mother badly. I don’t need to. Once you see how difficult this life is, you’ll be out of here.”
She decided to let his comment go. He was determined things would play out this way, and arguing about it would accomplish nothing. Abe was the kind of person who needed to see it to believe it. And she’d show it to him.
When they arrived in the barn, he grabbed a folded up blanket, a pair of gloves, a handheld digging tool, and a small trap. “Open your arms,” he said.
Surprised, she did as he requested and he dumped everything in them.
“If you’re going to do this, you’re going to do all of it. I won’t be doing anything but telling you what to do.”
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want you to make it too easy,” she quipped, refusing to let him deter her. “I’m likely to get bored if there’s not enough challenge.” She headed out of the barn then asked, “Will we be going to the spot you put your trap the other day?”
“No. You’ll be doing this with unused ground. That’s why you’re taking that trowel.”
“Trowel?”
He pointed to the handheld digging tool.
“Is that what you call it?” she asked, surprised. “I thought it was a little shovel.”
She noted his lips curl up into a smile despite his attempt to look serious. “I suppose that works, too,” he said.
For the rest of their trek up into the trees, they were quiet until he came to a large tree stump.
He turned to her and gestured for her to put everything down. “You can set the trap here.”
“We’re on an incline,” she replied.
“Yes, but we’re al
so along a frequented trail. See the animal prints? They go in a line down through here.”
She followed his gaze and saw that, sure enough, there were prints along the path. “I didn’t notice those around the traps you set. Were they there, too?”
“Yes. You’ll have to start paying attention to details if you’re going to live here.”
With a nod, she put the things on the ground. “What do I do first?”
“First you put down the blanket.”
She inspected it, suddenly noticing the dirt on it. “Hmm…”
“‘Hmm’ what?”
“It’s filthy,” she said.
“I rub it in the leaves and dirt to hide my scent when I use it. In this case, we’ll be masking your scent.”
“I have a scent?” she asked, not sure if she believed him or not. For all she knew, he could be teasing her.
“Every living thing has a scent, even people. You can smell some white men in town a mile away from the alcohol on their breaths. But it’s more pleasant to smell women, especially ones like…”
Since he stopped, she encouraged him to continue. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he blushed a little as he waved her question aside.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s important is that you sit on that blanket when you set the trap.”
Realizing she wasn’t going to get her answer, she unfolded the blanket and set it on the ground. Afterwards, she turned to him. “Now what?”
“Put on the gloves.”
She did and quickly realized they were too big for her.
“If you actually end up staying, I’ll get you a pair better suited for you.”
“Oh good. I want mine to be pink,” she joked and knelt on the blanket. “I’m guessing this is where I put the trap down?”
“Not yet.”
He knelt next to her, and she couldn’t help but note how close they were. Recalling his comment on how people had their own scent, she noticed he had a nice smell about him. He smelled rugged, just like the outdoors. Now whenever she smelled this particular scent, she’d think of him.
The Convenient Mail Order Bride Page 12