The Replacement Wife

by Lucy Evanson

  The field was empty. Or, rather, it was empty of what he’d been hoping to see. There were a few horses here and there, slowly making their way around the enclosure and stopping from time to time to nibble a flower or a bit of grass, but they were no different than the kind of animal you’d see on any farm around Mineral Point. They were perfectly fine, suitable for pulling a plow or being hitched to a wagon, but not much more. He glanced at the quarter horse that was hitched in front of him. It was a fine horse too, but just like any other.

  “Nothing special,” Joe murmured, and the horse stomped one hoof as if it had understood him. “No offense,” he added, then lightly snapped the reins. He was about to turn back toward town—Miss Chase was supposed to arrive at noon, and it was getting close to that time already—when he finally saw a flash of white at the far edge of the pasture.

  Joe pulled back on the reins again, ignoring the horse’s snort as the carriage stopped. He stood up and raised his hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from the sunlight that broke through the leaves from time to time. There he is, he thought, and a smile spread across his face. The white patch moved back and forth, obscured by the trees that lined the far end of the field, until it suddenly shot out into the center of the area, revealing itself to be a horse. Actually, not just a horse; it was the horse. The only one that mattered in all of Mineral Point—heck, the only one that mattered in the whole county, probably even the whole state.

  It trotted in a slow circle and then turned and began galloping straight down the center of the field, flying past Joe’s carriage, the hooves thundering as it went by. Every time Joe saw it he was filled with a new appreciation. Of course, there was a lot to appreciate: the color, a milky white unmarred by a single marking; the strength apparent in every move it made; the speed with which it raced around the pasture. This was a beast meant for neither plow nor carriage; it was a purebred Andalusian and they had ordered him special for Joe.

  In fact, ordering the stallion had been one of the first things he’d done when he’d finally decided that it was time for a change. He had woken up one morning and realized that he didn’t even know what day it was; he’d let himself fall into a rut and the realization that he’d been wasting his time struck him like a frozen spear. He’d never expected to find himself like this at the age of twenty-eight, but there was no denying it: he was alone in this world, with nothing but work spurring him to get out of bed every morning, with no one else to live for and no one else to live for him.

  There was only so much time a man had in life, and he’d been letting his own time dribble away. The thought gnawed at him all that day, and by that evening he’d sworn to himself that he was going to change things. He needed some life in his life, and buying this stallion was just the first step.

  The horse slowed as it approached the rails that fenced in the field, eyeing Joe closely as if trying to figure out what to make of him. Joe couldn’t help shaking his head in disbelief that such a beautiful animal even existed, let alone belonged to him. Its coat was absolutely perfect, without a single marking to be seen, like nature’s own clean slate. And a clean slate is something I sure could use right about now, he thought as the horse turned and galloped away again.

  Joe felt an odd thrill in his chest as the Andalusian tore across the center of the field, racing toward the far end, clumps of dirt thrown high in the air behind him as he went. He was feeling something like pride. Well, why not? He’s mine. Almost, anyway. The stable already had his deposit of six hundred dollars, and by the end of the month he’d have the other half.

  Quite a month, he thought as he sat down and gathered up the reins. First the Andalusian, now Miss Chase’s arrival, and then the new job next month. Yes, things were going to change. They had to. And today was just the beginning.

  ~ ~ ~

  It was one thing that Mr. Peterson wasn’t early. Amy could forgive that; you couldn’t expect people to show up ahead of schedule all the time, and there was no way that he could have known how early she’d arrive. Even her driver had commented on the good weather and better roads than he’d been expecting, which meant that they’d reached Mineral Point before eleven o’clock—which in turn meant that she’d spent the last hour waiting outside the town hall, alone in a new city with only a pair of traveling bags beside her.

  Still, she could overlook his not being early. It was the fact that he wasn’t on time that had begun to irritate her, as the church bell across the street had long ago rung the noon hour. Now, at nearly twelve-thirty, she was beginning to feel her irritation turning to anger. Every carriage and wagon that passed earned a glare from her; she couldn’t help but scrutinize the face of every man going by, wondering when one of them would finally turn out to be her fiancé.

  My fiancé. Still seems so odd to put it like that. She turned to look at herself in the window. Mr. Peterson obviously doesn’t put much stock in first impressions, but somebody has to. She tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear and reached into her sleeve for a handkerchief. The morning had been cool, but the day was warming up nicely and even in the shade she had developed a thin sheen of perspiration and a pinkish glow.

  Darn it. Amy blotted her face lightly and turned her head to the side as she examined herself. She was wearing her best dress and her only hat; they didn't quite go together, but then again Reginald hadn’t exactly been concerned with fashion when buying clothes for her. She made a silent vow that things would be different in the future. That was to say, if that fiancé of hers ever arrived.

  What could be keeping him? It must have been something serious. Surely a man wouldn’t simply choose to leave his new bride alone in the street in an unfamiliar city. Yes, it must have been something serious indeed. Perhaps it had to do with his business—he owned a hotel and other properties here in town, if she remembered right, and there may have been some trouble there. She studied the reflection in the glass as a couple of scruffy-looking men passed behind her, each with a pick axe slung over the shoulder. Maybe some ne’er-do-well was arguing about his bill and it was taking time for him to sort things out. Yes, that must have been it.

  Or maybe he changed his mind. It was as if a horrible little voice in the back of her mind had piped up just to scare her. Her stomach clenched and a chill ran down her back, in spite of the warm afternoon. Maybe he came to his senses and realized that it was folly to marry a woman he’d never even seen before.

  She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer, as much to herself as anything else. Please don’t let this have all been for naught. Please let him come for me, she thought, taking a deep breath and trying to steady her nerves.

  When she opened her eyes, she noticed that the reflection had changed. In the street behind her, there was now a carriage that had rolled to a stop, and a man in a broad-brimmed felt hat was watching her.

  “Miss Chase?”

  Oh, thank God. In a moment, the trepidation that had filled her drained away, replaced by the still-heated indignation she’d felt at being left standing out here in the sun. She turned, ready to let loose with a lecture on the importance of the first impression, but as soon as she met eyes with the man in the carriage, she felt her anger disappear. Somewhere in the back of her mind she may have still harbored some hurt feelings, but those were nothing compared to the surprise and awe that had filled her. He was just so...handsome. Even from this distance, a good ten paces away, he nearly took her breath away.

  “Mr. Peterson?”

  His smile was bright and broad; Amy felt herself go slightly weak as he jumped down from the driver’s seat and strode toward her. “You can call me Joe,” he said, reaching to take her hand and give it a quick squeeze before turning to the bags beside her. “I’m sorry I’m so late,” he said, tossing a glance to the clock tower across the street. “You must have been thinking you got stood up.”

  Amy laughed a bit louder than she had meant to. “No, no, I was sure you’d make it,” she said. “In fact, I was mostly worried that something
had happened to you.”

  “No, just some business I had to take care of,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll put your things inside, and on the way to the house you can sit up front with me,” he said. “That way we can talk and you can see more of the town.”

  “That sounds lovely,” she said. “It’s a beautiful day for a ride.”

  She watched as he quickly placed her bags inside the carriage. He moved quickly and efficiently, like a man who was comfortable in his own skin. He was clearly older than she was, maybe by about ten years or so, but she was relieved that the difference wasn’t greater. In fact, that’s just about the age I would have hoped for, she thought, then blushed and looked away as he caught her staring.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

  His eyes lingered on her for another moment, as if he weren’t sure whether to believe her or not, and Amy took the chance to really look at him. His eyes were a piercing blue, mimicking the bright sky overhead, and as he took off his hat briefly to wipe his brow, he revealed his thick, dark blond hair.

  “I suppose we should get going, Miss Chase,” he said, and he extended his hand. Amy took it without thinking twice, but it wasn’t until he stepped toward the carriage that she realized that he had meant to help her up.

  She laughed at herself as she grabbed the edge of the driver’s seat and climbed aboard, then turned to look at him. “Thank you, Joe,” she said. “And I want you to call me Amy.”

  He smiled, and she felt a flutter in her chest. “Amy it is, then,” he said, and climbed up to her side.

  ~ ~ ~

  In general, Joe tried not to judge people by their appearances. He had seen too many examples of people who were handsome but full of hatred, as well as people who were plain and rough on the outside yet the nicest, best people you’d ever want to meet, like gems wrapped in burlap. So he always tried to deflect the first impression, waiting instead to make up his mind once he’d gotten to know a person a bit more. Still, there had been some times when the first impression was the one he stuck with, and this time—half past twelve on Tuesday, September 13th—was one time he’d remember for the rest of his life.

  Of course, he wouldn’t have guessed that immediately; in fact, what had first struck him as he’d approached the town hall was that she only had two small bags at her feet. Not a lot of luggage, he thought. She must have really wanted a clean break from back home.

  As he got closer, he could see that her back was to the street and she was looking at herself in the window. Joe let the carriage slowly roll to a stop and he studied her as well. Even from the driver’s seat, looking at this pale and shadowy reflection, he could see that she was quite young—that was no surprise, of course; the woman from the marriage agency had said as much—but he hadn’t been expecting such a pretty girl. Strangely, her eyes were closed and she had an odd expression on her face, as if she were pained by something. He could have stayed like that all day, just watching her, but it also felt like he had caught her in a private moment, and he let his gaze slip away. When he looked up again, her eyes were open and she was staring right at him. It had been almost too much to take.

  Miss Chase was, in a word, stunning. Her eyes were a green he’d never seen outside of gemstones before, and she had a complexion like a saucer of fresh cream. She had gathered her chestnut hair into a loose tail that spilled out from under her hat and down one shoulder, and when she smiled at him, Joe had felt his knees go weak.

  It had been nearly impossible to get her things loaded up without tripping over his own two feet—or his tongue. He usually wasn’t nervous talking to women, but from the moment he’d jumped down from the carriage and taken her hand, he’d been as tense as a piano string. In fact, it was a good thing that the horse knew the way, because Joe was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than the young woman at his side.

  “Well, I hope you’re going to like it here,” he finally said, after riding for few minutes in nervous silence. Almost immediately he felt his cheeks grow warm. Such a silly thing to say, he berated himself. Why don’t you talk about the weather next? “I mean, I’m sure this will be a big change from back East.”

  “That’s for sure,” she said. “The town seems more...rustic than I’m used to.”

  He laughed. “I can’t argue with you about that. It might be a little boring.”

  “Actually it seems nice so far. Peaceful.”

  “It is, most of the time. It’s a good place to raise a family.”

  She turned to look at him. “So you want children, then?”

  “Yeah, someday.”

  “Maybe someday soon?”

  If his cheeks had been warm before, they began to positively burn now, and he turned his gaze back to the road. “Someday soon would be good,” he murmured, then snapped the reins lightly, though the horse’s pace was perfectly fine. When he glanced over to Miss Chase again, she seemed to have receded into her own thoughts for a moment, staring absently ahead with a smile on her face. It was a small smile, perhaps giving only the merest hint of her thoughts, but he felt himself melt a little just then.

  It was a strange thing, now that he thought about it. A girl like this—so beautiful, with a heart-melting smile and a voice that was like nature’s own music—coming all the way out west to marry a man she’d never met. It almost makes you wonder what’s wrong with her, he thought. What kind of girl couldn’t find a husband on her own back home? As if to answer his own question, a moment later another thought popped into his head: and what kind of man can’t find a wife without help from a marriage agency? They were both good questions, he figured.

  Joe shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, then snapped the reins again. Enough daydreaming. Time to get her home.

  ~ ~ ~

  Their tour through Mineral Point was brief—as Joe explained, she’d have plenty of time to see things later on, and he’d guessed that she’d want to get some rest at the house. It was just as well. She wouldn’t have remembered anything about the town anyway. Amy couldn’t deny that she was exhausted after so many days of traveling, but at the same time she felt filled with an energy that she’d never experienced before. Truth be told, she barely noticed that they had moved from streets lined with shops and offices into a residential area, first littered with smaller ramshackle houses, then gradually finding themselves surrounded with bigger, beautiful homes.

  They slowed to a stop in front of a large house built of cream-colored brick; a wrought iron fence ran around the yard and she could see that the grass and shrubs had been meticulously maintained.

  “Well, here we are,” Joe said, gesturing to the house. “Welcome home.”

  Amy laughed as she shielded her eyes against the sunlight and looked up at the place. It was big—two stories—with a broad front porch, complete with chairs and a swing; she could imagine sitting there with Joe in the summer evenings, enjoying the weather and, someday, watching their children run around in the yard. She could even picture the kids already: two boys and two girls, all with their daddy’s blond hair and her green eyes, a series of one beautiful child after another.

  It was almost too much to believe that this was going to be her home now. After everything that she’d been through in the past few weeks, it felt like a beautiful dream had descended around her. Beautiful, but overwhelming. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes, but the dream continued on: the house was still there, with a perfectly blue sky above. Joe was still at her side, his smile temporarily waylaid by the concern in his eyes.

  “I’m better than all right,” she said. “I’m just about perfect right now, I’d say.”

  His smile returned. “Well, let’s go in, then,” Joe said, stepping down from the driver’s seat and hurrying around to her side. He reached for her hand to help her down. “You must be anxious to meet him.”

  “Mee
t who?”

  “My father. You know, your fiancé,” he said. “Joe Sr.”

  Chapter 3

  It felt as if her very breath had been stolen away, and she had to clutch the edge of the seat to keep herself from pitching headfirst off the carriage.

  Joe’s eyes widened in alarm. “Are you feeling all right? You look white as a sheet.”

  “It must be the sun,” she muttered. “I just wasn’t expecting...well, I just...” she finally trailed off. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe, only then realizing how humid the afternoon had become. The air was almost too thick to take in.

  “Here, let’s get you down from there.” Joe’s hand on hers, which would have given her such a pleasurable frisson just a minute earlier, failed to elicit even a tingle now. There were too many other thoughts that were flooding her mind as she descended from the carriage.

  “Come on up to the porch,” he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “We’ll have you sit for a while before we go in.” He went with her up the flagstone path and helped her up the steps, where she settled into one of the wicker chairs. It did feel good to get out of the sun. The shade of the porch helped cut down the heat of the afternoon; she only wished that there had been a way to cut down the embarrassment that was burning her from within.