A Bride for Tom
Page 1
A
Bride for
Tom
Ruth Ann Nordin
A Bride for Tom - Kindle Edition
Published by Ruth Ann Nordin
Copyright © 2010 by Ruth Ann Nordin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Photo images Copyright Shutterstock Images LLC. All rights reserved – used with permission.
Dedicated to my readers who make writing worthwhile!
This book is part of the Nebraska series. Here is the order of the books in this series that I’ve written so far:
A Bride for Tom
A Husband for Margaret
Eye of the Beholder
The Wrong Husband
Shotgun Groom
His Redeeming Bride
To Have and To Hold
Isaac’s Decision
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
September 1868
Omaha, Nebraska
Margaret Williams nudged her friend in the side. “Don’t look now but Tom Larson is coming over here.”
Jessica Reynolds looked. Of course, she had to look. Whenever someone said, “Don’t look,” they secretly hoped you would, and Jessica had to oblige her friend. She directed her attention to the lanky blond who asked Daisy to dance.
Daisy shook her head.
His shoulders slumped, he turned toward the next lady in line. He, however, was not a graceful young man for in the next moment he succeeded in toppling into Beth and they both fell onto the barn floor.
People around them chuckled, and yes, Jessica was one of them. She’d never seen a clumsier person in her entire life. Whatever was Tom Larson doing working on his pa’s farm? He’d be best suited away from anything sharp.
Tom stood up and offered to help Beth to her feet, but Beth shoved his hand away. “I’ll do it myself, thank you very much.” Then she got up, dusted the dirt off her skirt and stormed off.
Tom’s face was red, but to his credit, he didn’t give up. He just proceeded down the line to the next lady who happened to be Rachel.
Margaret grabbed Jessica’s arm and dragged her across the barn. “There’s no need to stand in line like a sheep waiting for the slaughter,” she whispered.
Jessica secretly agreed with her, though she had to admit that she felt sorry for him. At the rate he was going, he’d never find a wife, and everyone knew he was hoping to get married and get his own farm. He was trying too hard, she thought. She shook her head as another lady rejected him. Someone had to teach the poor man how to act around women.
As she stepped forward, Margaret gasped and pulled her back. “What are you doing? He’s done with this side of the barn. He won’t ask us to dance.”
“He needs help.”
“But not yours.”
“Then who’s going to help him?”
“Who cares? As long as it’s not us.”
Jessica sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Really, Margaret. Just the other day you were instructing your little sister on manners. Is it good manners to leave this man in the state he’s currently in?”
“What will Peter think?”
“He’ll think I’m doing Tom and the woman he ends up marrying a great service. Besides, Peter couldn’t make it tonight. What am I supposed to do? Spend my time moping in the corner?”
“Yes. You are engaged to him.”
“And this won’t change that. Now, go find someone to ask you to dance.” She smiled and pointed to Ethan. “He’s been staring at you. Go over there. Maybe we can be in the same square dance.”
Margaret loudly groaned but made her way past the refreshment table.
Jessica turned around and saw that Tom was walking her way. She glanced down and saw that a napkin was stuck to his boot.
“Hello,” he greeted as he ran his hand through his wavy blond hair. “My name is Tom Larson.”
“Yes. I know.” Everyone knows who you are...and not for a good reason. “You have something stuck to your boot.”
He looked down. “Oh. So I do.”
When he was ready to touch the sticky candy that was responsible for gluing the napkin to his boot, she stopped him. If he touched that and then her...Well, that would just be gross. “Hold on. I’ll get another napkin and wipe that off.”
She hurried to the table and glanced back to make sure he wasn’t touching his boot. Good. He wasn’t. She snatched a cloth napkin and returned to him and scraped the candy and napkin off his boot.
“Oh, well, I could’ve done that,” he said.
“I know.” She just thought this way would be safer. What if he was trying to clean off his boot and lost his balance? She’d been watching him stumble around all evening. “But it’s fine now. I’ll be back.”
As she made her way to a trashcan, she caught Margaret’s eyes and saw her friend shaking her head at her. Jessica shrugged and returned to Tom.
“I never got your name,” he said.
“Jessica Reynolds.”
“I’ve heard the name Reynolds before. You live in town, don’t you?”
“Yes. My father used to make shoes and boots.”
“That’s it. I bought these boots from him. No wonder your name seemed familiar.”
She nodded.
“So...would you like to dance?”
“Yes.”
“That’s alright. I under-” He stopped and gave her a cautious look. “Did you say ‘yes’?”
The very fact that he seemed shocked by her answer brought a smile to her lips. In some ways, he was a little cute. He was like a clumsy puppy.
“Yes, I said yes.”
A wide smile crossed his face. “That’s great! Come on.”
She raised an eyebrow as he headed for the dance area without her. He obviously didn’t know he was supposed to take her hand and lead her there.
When he turned around, he appeared startled that she wasn’t right with him.
She waited for him to come back. If he was going to find a wife, she had to teach him what to do and what not to do. This was one of those ‘not to do’s’ on the list.
He came over to her. “Did you change your mind?”
“No, but you didn’t take my hand. See?” She pointed to Ethan as he took Margaret’s hand and led her to one of the squares where people were getting ready to square dance. “That’s what gentlemen do.”
“Oh. I hadn’t noticed that before. I’m sorry.”
As he extended his hand to her, she chuckled. “I guess it’s not that big of an issue, but some ladies won’t dance with a man unless he does that.” She accepted his hand and thought he had a nice firm grip. Not too tight but not lax either. Really, it was just right.
They went to the same square that Margaret was in, and Margaret gave her a ‘you poor thing’ look. Jessica simply shrugged. When t
he music started, it occurred to her that Tom had two left feet. He bumped into other people and tripped twice. It was up to her to prevent him from falling. Still, he had a big smile on his face and eagerly followed the commands. One thing was for sure: he had enthusiasm. And that was refreshing. He probably enjoyed life more than most people.
When the music ended, they returned to their original position in the square and clapped their hands. Jessica chanced a glance at Margaret and saw her nod in Tom’s direction. Wondering what had her friend worried, Jessica looked over at him and saw that he was fiddling with the button on the cuff of his shirt. She didn’t know why such a thing should bother Margaret, so she decided to ignore it. Maybe it was the fact that Tom was even waiting for the next round of square dancing to start that had her friend upset. He did, after all, spin Margaret too fast when she had to switch partners.
The poor man needed to learn to dance. It just wasn’t right to make him continue on like this. She didn’t believe he was intentionally being a bad dancer.
She nudged him in the arm. When he turned to her, she whispered, “Let me lead this one, alright?”
He seemed concerned. “Am I that bad?”
She hesitantly replied, “You just need a few pointers. Really, it’s minor things.” And that was true. If he could master the basics, he’d be better off...and so would those who’d dance with him in the future.
When the music started up, she took the lead, which caused some odd looks from the others, but she pretended not to notice. Tom fell in step and managed much better. Good. That meant he picked up on things quickly. Just as they got to the last command in the square, he raised his arm and her hair caught onto something from his shirt cuff.
Her head jerked back. “Ow!”
“What? Oh no! I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t see exactly what he was doing but she reached up and felt his free hand trying to undo the button on his cuff.
“I had a loose string,” he explained. “It must have gotten tangled in your hair.”
She groaned, wishing she had worn a braid instead of letting her hair hang loose.
“Move away from her!” Margaret snapped and shoved him aside.
Jessica shrieked and stumbled against him. Boy, that hurt!
“Her hair is attached to me,” he told Margaret. “See?”
“You big oaf!” Margaret yelled. “Only you would be so clumsy.”
“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“It was an accident,” Jessica quickly assured her friend.
“Well, both of you stop trying to get out of this mess,” Margaret demanded. “That hair is too wound up in that cuff and you’re making it worse. Go over there and I’ll bring back some scissors.”
“Scissors?” Jessica gasped. She didn’t want to cut her hair! “Can’t you just yank off the string?”
Margaret pulled them off the dance floor so they wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. “Jessica, your hair is wound up in his button. There’s no saving it. You ought to be glad it’s not your neck.”
“I...I’m so sorry,” he said.
Jessica blinked back her tears. She brushed her hair a hundred times every night...and all for what?
When Margaret returned, she ordered for them to remain still.
Jessica heard the devastating sound of the snip that set her free. When she stood up and saw how long the strands were that had been cut, she sharply inhaled and touched her head and let her hands slide down her neck. The damaged hair reached a little past her shoulders. It had been past her mid-back. Her beautiful hair. It was ruined!
“Jessica, I-I don’t know what to say,” Tom rambled, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to...I mean, I wasn’t trying-”
Margaret set her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I think you’ve said enough. Fine. It was an accident. Will you please leave before you do anymore damage?”
He lowered his head and walked away.
“My hair.” Jessica felt the tears fall down her cheeks before she realized she was openly crying.
Margaret clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Peter’s not going to like this one bit. He’s going to be upset when he realizes what happened and why.”
“But I was only trying to help.”
“And look at what good that did you! I warned you that there was a loose string.”
“I didn’t see it. I had no idea what you were trying to tell me.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Well, what’s done is done. There’s no use in crying over spilled milk. Come on over to my house and I’ll cut the rest of your hair.”
Jessica took note of Tom as he left the barn. As bad as she felt for him, she hated to cut her hair. It took her years to get it just the way she wanted it. Well, this was a hard lesson. Sometimes when someone tried to help someone else, it only made things worse.
Chapter Two
The next day, Jessica sat in front of her bedroom mirror and brushed her blond hair which fell slightly past her shoulders. There was no hiding it. She had lost a good four inches last night. Well, that’s what she got for not wearing her hair up...and deciding to dance with someone known for bumping into things. Still, it was an accident, and looking back, she felt bad for Tom. He had the look of a wounded puppy. She also felt sorry for whoever did end up marrying him. His wife would have to keep a safe distance from him in order to avoid getting hurt.
The knocking on her door interrupted her thoughts. “Yes?”
Her mother peered around the door, a kind smile on her face. “Peter’s here.”
Yes, he would be. He had mentioned taking her on a picnic. Whatever will he think of my hair? Though she realized her hair was safe with him, she pulled it back into a braid. It was a scary thing to lose so much of it in one instance, and she didn’t want to tempt fate.
She sighed and left her room. As she got closer to the parlor, she slowed her steps to take a good look at Peter. He was refined. Much more so than Tom. He wore a suit and his light brown hair was neatly combed. He stood in front of the window with a slight smile on his face. He also seemed confident. She hadn’t noticed that about him before. Tom, with his worn shirt and denim pants and blond hair that looked as if he constantly ran his hand through it, wasn’t refined at all. As far as being confident... Well, it was obvious that he wasn’t sure of himself. Maybe that was part of his problem. If he had the same confidence that Peter did, maybe he’d handle himself better.
Peter turned and saw her. A wide smile lit up his face. “Jessie, you’re certainly beautiful this morning.”
“You mean there are mornings when I’m not beautiful?” she joked.
“You know what I mean.”
Her mother came into the room, holding a basket and blanket. “You’ll need this for the picnic.”
“Oh. Yes. I forgot.” Jessica had prepared the meal before she went to get dressed for the outing.
Peter took the basket and blanket. “I reserved the horse and carriage, so we can take a ride around the lake.”
“That sounds like fun,” her mother said, clasping her hands together. “That’s just the thing you need after having to cut your hair,” she told Jessica.
“I heard about that,” Peter replied. “I hope it doesn’t take too long to grow back. Your hair is one of your loveliest features.”
Her mother sighed and shook her head. “A shame too.”
“It was an accident, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” Jessica said. Lord knew that crying hadn’t done her any good.
“Whatever convinced you to dance with Tom Larson anyway?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess I thought I could teach him how to be less clumsy with women.” Then she gave him a wary glance. “Are you mad at me for dancing with him?”
Peter laughed. “Mad? Why ever would I be mad? The man’s a bumbling idiot.”
She frowned.
Her mother shook her head. “Let’s not
get into all that. You two should concentrate on having a good time today. Jessica dear, I’ll talk to you when you get home.”
Jessica sighed but agreed to let the matter rest for the time being. She wondered if her mother would criticize her for dancing with another man while engaged to Peter. Whatever the matter, her mother would, indeed, talk to her when she came home.
“Are you ready?” Peter asked as he opened the front door.
“Yes.”
As she joined him, she wondered whether or not she should stay home. She didn’t think Peter’s statement regarding Tom was a nice one but needed time to think through what she should do about it, if anything.
***
“Here comes Tom. Watch out or you might lose your hair, Ma!”
Tom glared at his twelve-year-old brother who was sitting at the kitchen table with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other.
“Joel.” Their mother shot him a warning look as she turned from the cookstove with a spatula in hand. “That’s enough of your teasing.”
Tom sat across from his pesky brother who snickered at him. He couldn’t wait to get his own place. Then he wouldn’t have to put up with his annoying brother anymore. The dog hastened by Tom’s side and panted in anticipation for the meal to come. Tom usually snuck in food to the animal during meals because he couldn’t stand having the poor dog peer up at him with those sad eyes.
Joel glanced over his shoulder and when he saw that their mother had her back turned to them, he set his fork and knife down and made a screaming motion as he grabbed his hair.
Tom grabbed Joel’s fork and knife and let the dog sitting next to him lick the utensils. Just as Joel voiced his protest, he swiftly returned them to Joel and smiled.
Their father and Dave came into the kitchen and sat at their usual places.
“Ma!” Joel screeched. “Tom let the dog lick my fork and knife. I need new utensils.”
“I did not,” Tom lied.
Their mother looked over at their father. “Did you see anything?”