Oregon Trail Boxed Set

by Hutton, Callie

  His expression didn’t change, but his eyes grew darker. He nodded. “Go on.”

  She squirmed, and wished he would say more than that. “My father owned the bank where he worked. When he got sick, he left his assistant in charge, and he did something illegal. Papa trusted him, and signed all the papers Mr. Reynolds brought him. After Papa died, missing deposits were discovered, and all of Papa’s money, even the money from the sale of our house, went to the bank.”

  “Yesssss?” Nate dragged the word out.

  “My stepmother, Sylvia, made arrangements to go live with her sister in Virginia, and she contacted the Mail Order Bride Agency, and put my name in so I would have a place to go.” The last part she whispered.

  “What made your stepmother think you would go along with that plan?”

  “She said there wasn’t any room for me at her sister’s house, and given the scandal surrounding my father, no man in our circle of friends would have me.”

  Nate lifted her from his lap, and stood. He walked to the sink and leaned against it, his legs crossed at the ankles, his hands in his pockets. “Are you telling me you have no idea how to cook, clean, do laundry, take care of children, or anything else?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” She wrung her hands. “I am so sorry my stepmother did this to you.”

  He frowned. “What about the letters?”

  “Sylvia wrote them. I didn’t know about any of this until the day before I left. She handed me the packet of letters you had sent the same time she gave me the train tickets.”

  Her stomach clenched as she waited for his anger to erupt. He looked at her with no expression for a minute, and then shook his head.

  When he said nothing, she added, “I can try to get a job, and pay back the money you spent. I’m not quite sure what kind of a position I could get, but there must be someone in town who could use help, and then after I’ve paid you back, I’ll save for my stagecoach fare back to New York . . .”

  Her voice drifted off as she stared at him, wiping the tears from her face. He stood perfectly still, making her wonder if her revelations had caused his mind to snap, and she should grab the baby and run.

  Nate closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with a thumb and forefinger, as if the pain in his head was incredible.

  “Are you mad?” she whispered.

  “I’m not sure what I am right now. I just need time to think.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Since I have a family to support, I have to leave for work now. Get Luke and John to help you. They may not be strong enough to do much, but they know what has to be done.”

  Staring at her for a moment, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Still shaking his head, he stooped to kiss Julia-Rose, then walked to the door.

  “By the way.” He put his hat on, and reached for the doorknob. “Be sure to get an ‘okay’ from Dr. Penrose today.”

  He hadn’t taken her up on the offer to find a job. And he hadn’t ordered her out of the house, so with a sense of relief, she went to the pantry, and brought out the loaf of bread Mrs. Darby had made yesterday to go with today’s supper. She sliced off a piece, smeared it with jam and cut it into little pieces. Julia-Rose grabbed at one of the small squares before she could even put them on the table. Poor baby must have been starving.

  Julia-Rose looked up at Angel with her baby smile and cooed, “Mama.”

  “Yes, you’re right, little one.” Angel pushed the baby’s hair back off her forehead. “I am your Mama, and I will do this job.”

  Now that her confession was out, a sense of peace descended, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It surprised her how much she wanted this to work. After only a week of her new life, the old one seemed somewhat frivolous. Shopping, parties, teas, and visiting made up her days. Evenings included musicales, concerts and balls. She hadn’t realized how tired she’d become of it all.

  Even the men who’d pursued her were tiresome. Conversation was never serious, always light chatting, with the suggestion of naughtiness underlying the bantering. Friends who’d married grew tired of their mates rather quickly, and began to eye other men almost as soon as the requisite two children had arrived.

  No doubt this life would be hard work, but the rewards just as great, if she took it slow, and gave herself time to learn everything. Mrs. Darby had given her a good start, and she’d catch on. In the meantime, things couldn’t possibly be any worse here than they were before she’d arrived. She hoped, anyway.

  * * *

  Nate rotated his shoulders as he sat on the stool behind the counter in his gun shop. He stared into space as he ran the conversation with Angel through his mind. She sure had him fooled. It had crossed his mind to wonder why she would have all those fancy dresses. And if he had been more observant, he would have guessed her hands were not those of someone used to hard work.

  That she apologized for what her stepmother had done, and didn’t feel sorry for herself being thrown into this situation said a lot about her character. Given her spirit and her willingness to try, this just might work. He groaned, thinking about all the burned meals and ruined clothes in his future.

  Of course, her being a beauty, with a curvy woman’s figure to go with it, he may be able to overlook any deficiencies she might have. He chuckled, thinking how getting a glimpse of his wife’s body during Dr. Penrose’s examination changed his mind about wanting a plain woman.

  He’d also had time to see her with his children. Julia-Rose, Matt and the twins were already taken with Angel. Mark remained a bit of a holdout, but seeing as how he had been Amy’s favorite, he had felt her death more than the rest of them, so that was to be expected. One thing he was certain of. Based on events so far, life with his new wife would not be dull.

  * * *

  After Angel had cleaned up from breakfast, which involved mostly throwing it away, she got out the list Mrs. Darby made for her and saw that today was major laundry, not the little bit she did every day to keep up.

  She went out the back door and called John and Luke. They ran up the steps, giggling and pushing.

  “Did you do your chores?” she asked when they finally quieted down.

  “Yes, ma’am. All done.” John poked his brother in the back.

  “Okay, good. Can you help me with laundry?”

  “Laundry?” Luke groaned, and fell to the ground, holding his head. “That’s what women do.”

  “I’ll do the wash. I just want your help. My ribs still hurt, so I need two strong boys to collect all the dirty clothes, and bring them to the washroom.”

  “Yes ma’am! We can do that.” John puffed his chest out.

  She fetched Julia-Rose from the kitchen and placed her on a blanket with her rag doll on the floor of the washroom. By then the boys had dumped piles of dirty clothes near the wash tub. She had them watch the baby while she filled up buckets of water and heated them on the stove. Good thing her ribs were better, because she was back to lugging water again.

  Eventually, they had water, soap, a scrub board, and dirty clothes, and Angel began her work.

  Good heavens, this family goes through a lot of clothes!

  Her back ached and her hands burned from the soap and hot water, and she still had a pile of clothes to go through.

  She plopped down right there on the floor, deciding to have a break. She stretched her back muscles and rotated her neck.

  If she wasn’t so weary, she would think up new names to call her stepmother. Easy for Sylvia to traipse off to Virginia—with only one maid, poor thing—and send her out here. Some of her enthusiasm from earlier evaporated. She crisscrossed her legs in a very unladylike fashion and leaned her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands.

  Julia-Rose picked that moment to hand her the much-loved rag doll. “Mama.”

  “Thank you, little one. It’s a pretty dolly.” Her hands shook as she brushed the curls back from Julia-Rose’s forehead, and tears rushed to her eyes. This beautiful child deserved a mother.
So did the two imps noisily chasing each other around the tree outside. And their brothers. Blowing out a breath, she got back up and continued the wash.

  A few hours later, she stood in the yard and eyed the line of clean clothes that blew in the soft breeze behind the house. The tubs had been emptied, and Julia-Rose was down for a nap in the kitchen. The twins had curled up on a blanket under a tree, and fallen asleep, fingers intertwined.

  Nate hadn’t come home for noon dinner, so she put the pot of ham hocks and beans that Mrs. Darby had set up for her yesterday on the back of the stove to stay warm. They would have that for supper with the leftover bread. Unused to all this hard work, and feeling sleepy herself, she lay down on the settee and was soon fast asleep.

  Loud knocking on the front door woke her. A little disoriented at first, she rubbed her eyes and looked around. Julia-Rose stood on her cot, a sopping diaper hanging half off, dried milk caked around her lips. The twins sat on top of the kitchen table and smeared jam on bread, that—heaven help us!—they had cut with her large knife.

  She rose from the settee, and tried to return her hair into a semblance of order. It was half up and half down, so she shrugged, and went to the baby. The soggy diaper flapped against her apron as she opened the door.

  A well-dressed couple stood on the porch. The woman was middle-aged, thin, her lips pinched in disapproval. Adorned all in black, her scrawny, witch-like hands were folded at her waist, where she clutched a small reticule, also black. The man next to her was tall and skinny. Beneath his large nose, a full mustache turned up at the ends. He took off his hat as she opened the door. Neither one of them smiled.

  “Can I help you?” Angel asked as she jiggled Julia-Rose who had begun to cry, probably wanting out of the wet diaper. Before they could speak, Luke and John came running from the kitchen, and stood on either side of her, jam covering their faces and clothes. They grabbed her skirt with sticky fingers.

  “Who are you?” The woman said in a high-pitched voice.

  “I beg your pardon.” Angel drew on her experience in New York society where she’d expected to be the lady of a well-staffed, upper crust home. “Who are you?”

  “We, young lady,” the man said, stiffening, “are Mr. And Mrs. Louis Belford.”

  When Angel did nothing but stare at them with disdain, the woman added, “We are Amy’s parents. We’ve come to visit our grandchildren.”

  Angel’s stomach collided with her feet. The children and the house were a mess. Strange, the twins didn’t seem to recognize their grandparents. She stepped back, fussing with her hair. “I’m so sorry to keep you out on the porch. Please, come in.”

  Mrs. Belford sniffed, and entered the house, holding her skirts close so as not to touch anything.

  “Won’t you have a seat?” Angel pulled the blanket off the settee she had used for her nap.

  “You didn’t answer our question, young lady.” Mr. Belford sat rigidly at the end of the settee. “Who are you?”

  “She’s our new mama,” John said.

  “Nathan has remarried!” Mrs. Belford gasped and grabbed her throat. She extended her hand toward her husband, who patted it.

  Trading her anxiety for anger, Angel lifted her chin. “Yes, he did. If you’ll excuse me, I must take care of the baby. Please make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll be right back.” She turned and hurried from the room and up the stairs. John and Luke continued to stand at the entrance to the room and stare at the older couple.

  I wonder if this day could get any worse.

  She wiped Julia-Rose down and changed her diaper and dress. She couldn’t go back and face those people. They were so disapproving. She could certainly hold her own with them. Years of training would see to that.

  However, as they were Nate’s in-laws, it might not be a good idea to squash them like a bug under her foot, right there in his parlor.

  The back door slammed, followed by the clamor of Matt and Mark coming home from school. “Matt!” she called from upstairs. “Can you come up here a minute, please?”

  Both boys raced up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Who’s that downstairs?” Mark said as they charged into the room.

  She raised her eyebrows. “They’re your grandparents. Don’t you know them, either?”

  “Nope. Never saw them.” Matt answered.

  Best to leave that issue alone, and deal with the problem at hand.

  Walking quickly to the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, she reached for a scrap of paper and plucked a pen from the inkwell. “Matt, I need you to bring a note to your papa’s shop. Right now.”

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Thanks.” She blew on the writing, folded the paper, and handed it to the little boy.

  “Come on, Mark, go with me,” he said. They both turned and galloped down the stairs and out the back door.

  She stepped over to the mirror and did her best to put her hair up again. She yanked off the dirty apron, threw it into a corner, and picking up Julia-Rose, returned to the parlor.

  Mr. and Mrs. Belford had not moved an inch. Mr. Belford continued to pat Mrs. Belford’s hand.

  “May I get you some tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Mrs. Belford sniffed.

  Mr. Belford cleared his throat. “Where is Nathan?”

  Where do you think he would be in the middle of the day?

  “He’s at work in his gun shop.” Angel fussed with the baby on her lap. “I just sent a note to him to let him know you’re here for a visit. I expect him soon.”

  Julia-Rose wiggled and pushed against Angel’s chest. Her way of letting her know she wanted to get down. The baby slid to the floor and smiled up at her. “Mama.”

  Mrs. Belford grasped her throat and made a squeaking noise. Mr. Belford turned beet red.

  They all sat in stony silence until Nate came home about twenty minutes later. Angel was about to scream at the silent disapproval emanating from the settee. When the front door opened, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hello, Louis.” Nate shook the older man’s hand. He nodded at Mrs. Belford. “Emily.”

  He slipped his jacket off and sat next to Angel on the settee, resting a booted foot on his bent knee. He scooped Julia-Rose up from the floor and placed her in his lap. “What brings you to Oregon City?”

  “As we explained to this young woman, we came to see our grandchildren. I assume that is an acceptable reason?” Emily Belford shifted in her seat.

  Nate put his arm around Angel. “This young woman is my wife. And seeing as how this is only the second time you’ve come to see your grandchildren, you can understand why I question your visit.”

  “Young man,” Mr. Belford sat forward. “We are appalled at the condition in which we find this house and our grandchildren.”

  “How’s that?” Nate said, his voice low, his eyes narrowed.

  “This woman answered the door, looking a mess.” The older woman jumped in. “Her hair was falling down, her apron dirty, and the baby had a wet diaper hanging off. And the boys were covered with jam. They obviously had been fixing their own food!”

  Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your grandchildren are doing just fine. Everyone’s healthy and happy. Angel and I just recently married, so we’re all making adjustments.”

  “Angel!” Mrs. Belford said. “What kind of a name is that for a respectable woman?” She looked at her as if expecting her to remove her clothes and run naked around the neighborhood.

  Angel lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. “My name is Angelina Constanza Hardwick Hale.”

  Nate’s lips twitched at her comment. “Louis, Emily, why don’t you relax, and stay for supper. You can spend some time with the children.”

  “We would find that acceptable.” Emily Belford spoke as a queen, granting an audience to commoners.

  Nate rose from the settee and deposited Julia-Rose in Emily’s lap. The older woman stiffened, and Julia-Rose, sensing the tension, let out with a wail. She twisted in
Emily’s lap, and put her arms out. “Mama!”

  Mrs. Belford began jiggling the baby, which only made her throw her little body back and cry harder.

  “Here, I’ll take her,” Angel said. “She’s sometimes fussy when she wakes up from her nap.”

  Mrs. Belford smoothed out her skirts. “Where are the boys?”

  “I’ll go round them up.” Angel made her escape to the kitchen where Nate had gone. She found him staring out the window with his hands in his pockets.

  She settled the now quiet Julia-Rose on her hip and pulled at Nate’s sleeve.

  “What will I serve for supper?”

  “What did you plan?” He continued to stare at the boys racing around the yard.

  “I have a pot of beans and ham that Mrs. Darby set up yesterday before she left. But that isn’t appropriate for company.” She chewed her lip.

  “It’s fine for company, honey. Don’t get all upset over this.”

  She shifted the baby to her other hip and gave the beans a quick stir. “Your mother-in-law wants to see the boys.”

  “She’s not my mother-in-law,” Nate snapped. “I’ll get the boys and send them in.” He stalked from the room.

  Soon, four boys charged through the back door, but slowed down when they entered the parlor.

  Nate took money from a cup over the sink. “I’ll go to the bakery and get a fresh loaf of bread, and see if Mrs. Fenwick has any pies left.”

  “Oh, thank you so much,” Angel said, relieved. “I’ll set the table.” As he turned to go out, she grabbed his arm. “Do we have a tablecloth and napkins?”

  “I think Amy kept that stuff in the bottom drawer in the hall cabinet.”

  She put Julia-Rose in her chair, tied the strap and handed her a cookie. A search of the chest Nate had indicated revealed a lovely, pale blue linen tablecloth with ten matching napkins, all ironed and neatly folded.

  Well, it appears things weren’t always in such a muddle here.

  One more chair from the boys’ bedroom completed the nine places at the dining room table. Although a little crowded, the tablecloth and napkins gave it a more ‘special’ look.