Fiery Bride

by Cynthia Woolf

  Fiery Bride

  Cynthia Woolf

  Copyright © 2013 by Cynthia Woolf

  All rights reserved.

  Digital Edition

  Published by Cynthia Woolf

  ISBN: 978-1-938887-24-6

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Fiery Bride is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Jim, my wonderful husband. I couldn’t do this without you. I love you.

  For my critique partners, Michele Callahan, Karen Docter, Kally Jo Surbeck-Owren and Jennifer Zane, thank you ladies. Your thoughts and assistance have been invaluable in writing and finishing this book. You’re the best.

  Thanks to my editor, Kally Jo Surbeck-Owren. How lucky am I, my editor is also one of my critique partners. Thank you so much for all you do and both hats that you wear for me.

  CHAPTER 2

  Maggie had second and third thoughts by morning. She’d tossed and turned all night, going over the pros and cons of her decision. She knew Caleb, probably better than she’d ever known Edgar in their twelve years of marriage. A marriage that didn’t include children. Edgar always blamed her and beat her for it. An involuntary shudder wracked her body as she remembered the beatings.

  She entered the dining room for breakfast. Caleb was already there, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. For some reason, the room looked bigger in the light of day. The floor to ceiling flowered wallpaper seemed less yellow and more cream colored in the bright morning light. Brilliant white tablecloths covered the round tables and a small vase of wild flowers sat in the middle of each. Most of the tables seated four people, some more and some, like the one where Caleb sat, seated only two.

  He smiled when he saw her, stood to pull out her chair. It had been so long since anyone had treated her like a lady and Caleb seemed to do it automatically, as though it was something she deserved. She liked it. Enjoyed being treated like she was special. She started walking toward him but faltered when she noticed another occupant of the room. Martin Butler. He raised his coffee cup to her in salute.

  “What’s he doing here,” she whispered when she got to Caleb.

  He turned and saw Martin. “I don’t know. Just ignore him.”

  “That’s kind of hard to do when he keeps showing up, but I’ll try. I’ve been doing some thinking.” She sat down. As soon as she did the waitress was there.

  “What can I get you, Ma’am?”

  Maggie looked up into the eager face of a young woman with cornflower blue eyes. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen but she wore a thin gold band on her finger and appeared about seven months pregnant.

  “Why don’t you bring her a cup of coffee, Bertie. By the time you get back she’ll have had a chance to look at the menu.”

  “Sure thing, Caleb.” She looked over at Maggie. “Be right back, Ma’am.”

  “Now you were saying you’ve been thinking and I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” he replied.

  “What if I took a place in town? I could still find you a new wife…,”

  “That’s not the deal. You’re going to be my wife, for lack of a better term, until one is found for me. You agreed and I’m holding you to your word. You wouldn’t want me to keep you to any lower standards than I would a man, now would you?”

  “No. I wouldn’t,” she admitted.

  “Can I ask you a question?” After she nodded he said, “Why didn’t you have children?”

  She took a deep breath, the memories still fresh even after five years. “Not that it matters but Edgar assured me it was my fault, but I’m not so sure. None of his mistresses had children either and he had more than one. Mistress that is. He wasn’t shy about telling me that he had women who wanted him. Now I’m too old. That’s another reason I’m not the perfect wife for you.”

  Caleb reached over and put his hand on top of hers. “I’d never cheat on you, Maggie. When I marry, it’s for life. I take my vows seriously.”

  She looked at the man seated across from her. He was everything she’d always wanted in a man. Tall, handsome. If it was possible for her to have children, he could give them to her. If not, well, he already had a daughter and Maggie could help raise her. She had to admit having a family was very appealing.

  “Come on. Let’s get married. Now. Today. Let’s not wait. You know you want to. Come with me, Maggie. We can start our new life together.”

  Maggie gazed into those brown eyes and was almost lost. Almost. She had to remain firm. “We are not marrying. Tell me something. What would you have done with Jenny Talbot?”

  “Sent her back home.” He released her hand and picked up his spoon, becoming intent on stirring his coffee. “My only thought was to get you here. I know that wasn’t well done of me, but I was at my wit’s end. I could think only of you and you weren’t being very helpful. I finally decided on having you accompany Jenny. I’d have found her a husband if she didn’t want to go back to New York. There’s plenty of men that she might have found more suitable and more her age than me.”

  “That wasn’t very good of you, but at least you’re honest and I have to admit, it’s fairly flattering to me. But wrong nonetheless,” she added. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me in your letters?”

  “What would you have said?”

  Now it was her turn to look down. She felt her color rise. “No.”

  “Exactly. I couldn’t risk it.”

  Bertie came back with Maggie’s coffee. “Now, what can I get for you?”

  Her head popped back up as she glimpsed Martin Butler and lost her appetite. “Just some toast with jam, please.”

  “You need to eat more than that,” said Caleb. “That won’t keep a bird alive.”

  “I’m really not hungry.” Her eyes drifted back to Martin.

  Caleb followed the direction of her gaze. “You can’t let him bother you.”

  “I can’t help it. I feel so bad for Beatrice. She never wrote and told me. I don’t even know what happened to her.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll stop and ask Sheriff Wayburn to look into it. Okay?

  “Yes, thank you.” She took a sip of the coffee the waitress had brought her. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? You need a wife and I need to find you one. First, I’ll need to establish an office here and travel into town at least once per week. Second, I’ll take care of your home but I won’t cook.”

  “Cookie, one of my trail hands, does the cooking now. It’s not good but it’s edible. And I have a woman who comes in once a week to do laundry. Rachel and I look after ourselves pretty much the rest of the time. We’re not the best housekeepers, but we do alright.”

  “I don’t intend to judge you by your housekeeping skills. I’m just trying to figure out what I’m facing. It also gives me a better idea of what you need in a wife. I’m going to make this right, Caleb. I’m going to find you the perfect wife. Now, if you’ll meet me in my room in about thirty minutes, I have some arrangements to make.”

  She rose from the table and walked toward the kitchen. Marching in like she belonged there, she found the cook. A beautiful woman with black hair pulled up into a bun atop her head an
d one of the more curvaceous figures Maggie’d seen in sometime. She was dressed simply in a black skirt, white blouse and full apron.

  “Excuse me? Are you the chef here?”

  “I’m not a chef. Only a part-time cook. I do the morning meals. Chef Roberts does the afternoon and evening meals. What can I do for you?” said the woman in lightly accented English. Maggie guessed her to be Italian or French.

  “My name is Maggie Selby and I’d like to hire you,” she said, coming right to the point.

  The woman started laughing. “You. Hire me. Why?”

  “Because I can’t cook and the position I’ve found myself in requires a cook. Are you interested or not. It pays twenty dollars a month and room and board. What’s your name?”

  Maggie watched the woman’s eyes light up at the mention of the pay. She realized she might be overpaying but she needed someone now.

  “My name is Francesca Lamrona.” She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “I care for my mother. Would you provide for her as well?”

  Maggie wasn’t fazed in the least. “You can bring her to live with you and her room and board will be provided, too, but there is no additional salary for her and she will be expected to help you in the kitchen.”

  Francesca nodded. “You have a deal. When do you want me to start?”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll send someone here to pick you up. Is that acceptable?”

  She nodded again. “Yes. I will see you tomorrow.”

  They shook on it and Maggie took her leave. This woman could make a good wife for Caleb. He just didn’t know it yet. Why did that thought not make her happier?

  * * *

  Caleb’s house was a sprawling one story white clapboard. He pulled up to the side and they entered from a porch just off the kitchen. On the porch next to the door, there was a long, skinny table on which sat three basins with pitchers, soap and towels beside them. With so many basins she assumed this must be where his employees washed before coming in for meals. They’d had a similar set up on the farm where she was raised. They didn’t have people working for them but Mother wouldn’t let anyone in the house before washing after they’d spent a day in the fields. It was so familiar, almost like being back home.

  When they opened the door to the kitchen they were greeted by rolling billows of smoke. “Maggie, stay here.” Caleb ran inside.

  She coughed and went out and off the porch to wait in the yard. And waited and waited for what seemed like forever and Caleb didn’t come out. Finally, concern overtook her and she went into the smoking building to find him. He was at the sink, a lid covering a smoking, sizzling skillet. She propped open the door. He’d already opened the window above the sink.

  “What happened?”

  “Rachel was trying to surprise us by cooking dinner. Unfortunately, she burned the bacon and nearly set the stove on fire with the grease.”

  It was then Maggie noticed the little girl. She had dark brown hair in two neat braids and brown eyes, with black lashes, full of tears. She blinked and the tears streamed down her cheeks. Maggie felt sorry for her, she looked so forlorn.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m Maggie,” she said, holding out her hand to her.

  Rachel looked at her hand and then up into her face and started crying harder.

  “Oh, honey,” said Maggie, taking the girl into her arms. “It’s all right. Caleb tell her it’s all right.”

  Rachel had buried her face in Maggie’s chest and shook with sobs.

  “Ah, Pumpkin it’s okay. No lasting harm was done. Look. The fire’s out and the only thing burned is the bacon,” said Caleb. He opened his arms to his daughter and she ran from Maggie to him. He gathered her close and held her while she cried. Maggie almost started crying herself at the tender scene.

  Now that the kitchen was not filled with smoke and she could see it, Maggie had never seen a bigger kitchen in a private home. The one at the hotel was only slightly larger than this one. A large, six-burner stove with a warming shelf along the back, sat along the wall opposite the door where she stood. If she’d been a cook she’d have been in heaven to have such a stove. As it was, Francesca was going to love it.

  There were two doors on that same wall. One on either side of the stove. The one between the stove and the icebox, she was sure, led to the pantry and she assumed the second one led to a bedroom for the cook, who would be arriving tomorrow. That was going to be a surprise for Caleb. The woman was beautiful and could cook. Maggie smiled. Caleb didn’t stand a chance.

  Along the wall to her left was the sink with hand pump below a small window with pretty flowered curtains. There were counters with cupboards above and below on either side of the sink. A large icebox stood at the end of those counters

  The wall to her right had a doorway opening to the rest of the house and a long table was also against that wall. The table had armchairs at both ends and a long bench on either side. It would easily seat sixteen to twenty people.

  On the wall, next to the door where they stood, was a long board nailed about six feet from the floor with pegs all along it for coats and hats. It would more than likely be full at each meal summer and winter with hats, if nothing else.

  “We generally eat with the men, otherwise, it gets lonely for just me and Rachel in the dining room. We can change that if you prefer.”

  “No. That’s fine. I like the idea of having lots of people around the table after eating alone for so many years. The conversation must be lively,” said Maggie.

  From behind them came a short, slim woman with beautiful silver hair wrapped into a tight knot at the back of her head. Maggie hadn’t heard any one ride up so she must have already been there.

  “Clara,” he called to the woman. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

  Maggie turned and gazed into a pair of the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. They looked like a deep lake she’d been to once on a trip with Edgar. The water around the edges was clear, but the closer to the center it got the darker and bluer it became until the middle where it was so deep it looked black.

  “Ah, Miss Talbot?” asked Clara.

  “No,” said Caleb. He put his arm around Maggie’s waist and brought her close. “This is Maggie.”

  She pushed away from him and glared. “Stop that.” Having him hold her only brought about feelings, wants, she could never have.

  He just grinned at her.

  “Maggie. Well, I’ll be! Did you marry the girl or just bring her home for a visit.”

  “We most certainly did not get married,” said Maggie.

  “Caleb?” Clara narrowed her eyes at him. “What have you done?”

  “Nothing, except make sure I get my money’s worth. The woman I was supposed to marry, Miss Talbot, didn’t make the whole trip. Maggie here doesn’t have the money to refund me, so she’s going to work it off.”

  “Well I was. He conveniently forgot to mention you.”

  “Not surprising. I try to do a little cooking and cleaning while I’m here but I’m only supposed to do the laundry and now you’re here I won’t have to do that. I don’t mind telling you I only do it to help Caleb until he finds himself a wife. I’ve got plenty to do on my own place.”

  Caleb shrugged his shoulders. “I told you I had a woman who does the laundry.”

  Clara went to Maggie, grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “Good to have you here. Caleb has been talking about you.”

  He cleared his throat and Maggie cocked her eyebrow in question.

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Papa?” said the little girl, “is this my new mother?”

  Maggie saw that Rachel had coffee colored eyes that matched her fathers. “Um, no, sweetheart. I’m not. I’m Maggie but I’m here to find a mother for you.” Her heart went out to the little girl. She wanted a mother so much.

  “Rachel, honey, Maggie is going to be with us for a while and I want you to make her feel at home. S
he’ll be staying in the large guest room next to mine. Maybe you’d like to show her the way and I’ll follow with her bags.”

  Rachel grabbed Maggie’s hand, the tears gone replaced by a bright smile Maggie couldn’t help returning. Smoke and fire long forgotten. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

  Maggie looked over at Caleb, saw the smile on his face and knew she’d been had. She turned to Rachel. “Thank you. I appreciate your help until I can find my way around.”

  “After that we can go to the barn and see the new kittens. We almost always have new kittens of one size or another. These are a couple of weeks old and I like them best this size ’cause they like to play.” Rachel chattered on about kittens and puppies and all sorts of other baby animals that they had on the ranch. She pulled Maggie along to the bedroom and flung open the door.

  “This is our spare room. Papa calls it the guest room but I sometimes play in here. My room’s too small for some of the games I like to play. Do you like to play games, Maggie?”

  “Uh, I suppose. I haven’t played any games in a long time. What kind do you like to play?” Rachel’s little hand in hers reminded Maggie what it was like to be small and only worried about who would play with you.

  “Well, mostly I just play with my dolls, after I’ve done my chores, a course. Papa says I got to be ’sponsible and that means” she stopped and concentrated before speaking again. “doin’ my fair share” She grinned, obviously happy she’d remembered what her father said.

  “Well, he’s right. I always had to help around the house when I was growing up, too.”

  “Do you like to play checkers? Papa plays checkers with me sometimes.”

  Maggie listened to the child with half an ear while she looked around the room that she would call home for the next few weeks. It would take her that long to get even one bride candidate out here from New York. First, she had to write to Sally, her tenant and sometime assistant. She’d have to oversee the office while Maggie was gone. Luckily, Sally had helped Maggie out before and knew the workings of the business.