The Blacksmith's Mail Order Bride (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 5)

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The Blacksmith's Mail Order Bride (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 5) Page 7

by Cindy Caldwell


  She lifted the bucket of water onto the stove. “I think you were right about that bath, if you don’t mind. I don’t think I’ve ever been this filthy, even during slaughtering season. I guess Joe married the dirtiest, most exhausted hog farmer in the world. Good luck to him, I say,” she said as both women dissolved into laughter.

  Chapter 15

  Joe closed the door to the blacksmith shop slowly and leaned against it, throwing his hat onto the hook by the door. He stood there for a moment, trying to remember why he’d gone to the mercantile in the first place—a decision that had now changed his life completely.

  It seemed like weeks ago, not merely a day, that the young lady covered in soot had sat in this very shop, seemingly in shock, and he’d wanted to help her. Wanted to, but hadn’t, really. Not much. She hadn’t even had coffee.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever know what moved him to make such a bold proposal after he’d seen her. She hadn’t even seemed to notice that he was there, such was her grief. And terror. And hopelessness.

  It was almost as if he’d been taken back to that day—the day his father lost his life. He’d been so young then, Will even younger—both of them too young to do anything to help.

  It was years ago, and yet it was still fresh in his mind as if it had been yesterday. Standing in the mercantile, his heart had been squeezed as it had that day long ago, when he hadn’t been able to change the hand of fate. Olivia wept today as his mother had back then, and he’d just been compelled to—act.

  He had given in to a moment of trepidation, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears. His father had been helping—or trying to—a young miner recently arrived to Tombstone, and it had gotten him killed. Maybe if they hadn’t all had guns, maybe if it had just been a fistfight it might have turned out differently. That’s certainly what his mother thought and why they’d been forbidden from ever working on or even cleaning guns in the blacksmith shop since they’d taken it over after his father’s passing.

  But this—this girl’s dilemma side by side to his own—this was hardly as dangerous. Foolhardy, possibly. But dangerous? How could it be? It was a wedding, not a duel. At least for now.

  As he pushed himself away from the door and reached for his heavy leather apron to start his work day, he wondered if it might be better for him if he was armed when he told his mother what he’d done. He would certainly need some defense, judging by the reaction of his aunt. He knew that she’d have told his mother by now, but he also knew she wouldn’t come to the shop to confront him. That event would be later in the afternoon when he went home. She’d refused to enter the shop since his father passed, and Joe said a small thanks of gratitude for that fact.

  As he rolled the words over in his mind that he’d share with his mother later, he wished his brother were there. He really should tell Will first, and maybe even get some advice about how to calm his mother down.

  He smiled as his wish came true and Will strode through the door. Will didn’t take his eyes off Joe as he hung his hat on the open hook and sat down in the very chair Olivia had sat in mere hours earlier. He cocked his head to one side and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.

  Joe set down his poker and closed the door to the forge, taking a seat at the desk in the corner of the shop.

  “Well?” Will said finally, breaking the silence. Neither of the brothers was much of a talker, and someone had to do it.

  “Well, what?” Joe folded his arms over his chest also, mimicking his brother’s posture.

  “Word travels fast around here, brother. Who’s the lucky lady? Aunt Dorothy is saying she’s an Indian, real dark.

  “An Indian?” Joe said, his eyes widening. “No, she’s not an Indian although I wouldn’t mind if she was.”

  Will slapped his knee and stood, shaking his brother’s hand. “Well, I’ll be. Carol and I weren’t sure we should believe it. She, of course, is excited to meet her sister-in-law and was hoping that Aunt Dorothy wasn’t full of malarkey. Aunt Dorothy told Saffron and Saffron told us. They’ll be happy to plan a wedding for you. You know how women are.”

  “Oh, so she went to make sure you knew before she went to Ma,” Joe said slowly. “She happened to be there at the time, and threatened to go straight to Ma and stop it. Which is why I’m already married.”

  He looked up as Will straightened in his chair, his eyes wide. “I beg your pardon? I heard you’d proposed, but...”

  Joe ran his hands through his dark hair and poured two cups of coffee, setting one in front of his brother.

  Will took a sip and spit it out. “This is stone cold. Maybe you’ve gone loco, brother.”

  Joe looked into the cup and then at the pot, which had been sitting on the counter since the day before, when Olivia had left. “Maybe I am. I’m not sure. But I’d decided I’d do anything rather than marry that horrible Jasmine Ma and Aunt Dorothy have picked out for me, and I’d already written an advertisement for a mail order bride. Olivia happened in yesterday and her whole place burned down and she doesn’t have a nickel to her name. It seemed like the right thing to do when I saw her today.”

  “Olivia?”

  “Yes, Olivia Blanchard. Do you remember the girl we met the other day?”

  Will leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “The one in the street having that ruckus with Jimmy Joe Walker? The one with the double-barreled shotgun?”

  Joe quickly stood and began to pace, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, I’d forgotten all about that. I just remembered how pretty she was when we saw her in the restaurant.”

  “That she is, brother. Very pretty. And seems smart, too. And—well, it’s pretty clear she can handle herself with a shotgun.”

  Joe closed his eyes and hung his head as the realization washed over him that he hadn’t thought this through much at all. Not only did he know very little about this girl, but what he did know was something that would be a thorn in his mother’s side—beyond the fact of her mere existence as her new daughter-in-law—in that she used guns. And he was pretty confident that she used them well—and often. She would have to, being a rancher.

  “It’s done now, brother. Had the preacher do the ceremony right there in the mercantile before Aunt Dorothy could go to Ma. Thought it was best that way.”

  Will looked around the shop and peered out the window. “Where is she now?”

  Joe sighed. “She was pretty much a sight after trying to put out the fire at her ranch all by herself all night. Sadie took her home to rest and get cleaned up. I’ll be going over for supper—I guess to get to know her a little better before I take her home to Ma tomorrow.”

  Will whistled long and slow, then broke out in a deep laugh. “For somebody who hasn’t done anything sudden in his entire life, this pretty much takes the cake, Joe.”

  Joe sat down at the desk and rested his chin in his hands. “I guess it sure does. And I’m not exactly sure how to go about this. Care to join me for tea this afternoon with Ma while I break the news? I could use the cavalry, I think.”

  Will studied his brother for a moment. “You know Ma and I are still on the outs because I married Carol. She’s never forgiven me for marrying a girl who can’t walk, even if she is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. But I’m counting on strength in numbers. I think Ma mentioned last night Grandma will be there today for her weekly visit. That should make it a little easier, don’t you think?”

  Will laughed again. “I suppose I need to see her sometime. Pa’s mother and Ma are like night and day. She might be able to talk some sense into her.”

  “It’d be the first time if she could. You ever seen that work? It doesn’t surprise me that Grandma chose to move into her own house after Pa died. Those two are like oil and water.”

  “You’re right about that. Can’t promise that it’ll help any, but I’d be willing to accompany you to witness your walk off the plank,” Will said as he slapped his brother on the back and laughed.r />
  Chapter 16

  Four chimes sounded from the clock in the shop and Joe reluctantly set his tools down. Hammering molten steel seemed much more appealing than what he had to do now.

  Part of it, anyway. He didn’t look forward to seeing his mother and having to explain what had happened, but spending time with Olivia—his wife—had his stomach in a knot. The easy part was over. The actual wedding had been accomplished with little more fanfare than a daisy in Olivia’s blackened hands, but now the hard part would begin. He’d have to get to know her, and they’d need to learn to live together amicably.

  He lifted the heavy leather apron over his head and hung it in its place against the wall and set his tools where they belonged as he waited for his brother to come by. His dark brown hair smoothed back, he tugged on his coat and peered out the window, up and down Allen Street. With every tick of the clock, his stomach tightened more.

  He looked up as the bells on the door jingled, into the smiling face of his brother.

  “You ready for your execution?” Will said as he rubbed his hands together.

  Joe reached into his pocket for the keys to the door. “Better to get it over with, I’d say,” he grumbled as he closed the door and turned the lock.

  “Carol thinks this is wonderful for you, Joe. I stopped in at the mercantile and got a little more information from Suzanne. We’ve been invited for supper as well. I hope that’s all right with you.” Will shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced sidelong at his brother. “Thought you could use some support there, too.”

  Joe hung his thumbs in the pocket of his vest as he eyed the house in front of them, its white picket fence gleaming in the afternoon sun. Vibrant flowers swayed in the breeze at the bottom of the porch. Joe couldn’t exactly call it a happy home now, but it had been once. When he and Will were small and his father lived there with them.

  As in times past, he smiled to see his grandmother on the porch, her gray hair in a neat bun. The sky had darkened a bit with an approaching monsoon, and she tugged her red, blue and gold shawl neatly around her as she stood and smiled at their approach.

  “Grandma,” Joe said warmly as he kissed her on the cheek when he’d reached the top of the porch stairs. Will did the same and she closed her eyes as she embraced them both tightly.

  “You boys just keep getting more handsome every time I see you. Your father would be so proud,” she said as she held Joe at arm’s length and eyed him from head to toe.

  Heat crept into his cheeks as he looked down at his boots. His grandmother—his father’s mother—couldn’t be more different than his mother. Where his mother was cold and distant, Grandma was warm and loving, something that kept both brothers visiting regularly to her little house on the outskirts of town. He had a fleeting thought that he should have—would have—talked to her about this big decision had there been time. She always gave good advice.

  He turned to his mother as she stood, her knuckles white on the sides of the rocking chair. Her face was a similar shade and there was fire in her eyes as they flashed in his direction.

  “Mother,” he said. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and she turned away, her hand clutching a handkerchief tightly as she bit her knuckle.

  He exchanged a glance with Will and realized that Will had yet to be acknowledged. He knew it had taken a lot for Will to accompany him, even though he hadn’t said so, as their mother hadn’t spoken to him since his wedding to Carol, and possibly never would.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s having a little difficulty assimilating the news of your nuptials, a fact which I presume won’t surprise you.”

  “Mother Stanton!” Joe’s mother spat as she turned away, her back toward her family.

  “Congratulations, Joe,” his grandmother said as she looped her arm through his and guided him toward the tray of lemonade. “I believe this deserves a toast in honor of you and your new wife...oh, what is her name?”

  “Olivia. Olivia Blanchard—er, Stanton,” Joe said as he took the glass she held out toward him and Will did the same.

  “Olivia. What a lovely name. And I hear she has had a mishap at her ranch. I do believe that the Double Barrel Ranch is quite well known for their pork products, highly regarded. Why, I knew her grandfather, come to think of it. Fine man, he was,” she said as she looked pointedly at their mother on the other side of the porch.

  Joe’s eyebrows rose as he sipped his lemonade. His grandmother knew more about his new wife than he did, and it appeared that his mother knew more than she wanted to know.

  He cringed at the look of sadness in Will’s eyes as he looked from his grandmother to his mother. “Thank you, Grandma. I hope you will like getting to know her.”

  “I should wonder the same about you, Joe,” his mother said tersely, still not turning toward them.

  His grandmother shook her head at her daughter-in-law. “I would think you’d want to have some relationship with your new daughters-in-law, Lucinda. Will and Joe are fine young men, and Carol is one of the kindest people I’ve met in my long life. I have no doubt that Joe knows exactly what he is doing, and that Olivia will be a fine addition to the family.”

  “Carol is quite fond of you, too, Grandma,” Will said as he sat on the porch swing and smiled at the old woman. “Says you’ve got the heart of a lioness.”

  The older woman threw her head back and laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “I should say I’ve seen a thing or two in my lifetime, boy. And from what I’ve seen, kindness and family matter most.”

  “Kindness and family,” Joe’s mother said, almost in a whisper. “Kindness and family is what got your son killed, and took my husband and the boys’ father away.”

  Joe’s grandmother tightened her shawl around her shoulders, the beautiful golds and blues reminding him of having that very shawl wrapped around him in comfort many times after his father had died. It smelled of lavender like her, was part of her, and it comforted him even now. Especially as this didn’t seem to be going very well.

  “My dear, that is not the truth and you know it. Joe and Will are fine young men, and the women they choose also must be so. It couldn’t be other.”

  “He doesn’t even know this woman,” the younger Mrs. Stanton said as she twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “I won’t have it. It’s bad enough that Will married that...that...”

  Will stood from the swing, his eyes blazing. “Don’t say it, Ma. Don’t you dare. You have no right to judge her that way. You don’t even know her.”

  His mother spun around, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to know her and I don’t want to. She’s not good enough for you. And now your brother’s gone and done the same thing. I won’t have it. This house is for upstanding, decent ladies who can take care of you both.”

  Will’s fists clenched at his side and Joe stepped closer to him, his hand resting on his forearm.

  “Will, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Carol is wonderful,” he said as he glared at his mother.

  “Lucinda,” their grandmother said as she stepped forward to stand in between her daughter-in-law and grandsons. “That’s mighty rich, coming from you. When was the last time you cooked a—well, cooked anything at all?”

  Joe’s mother paled even more, which he hadn’t thought would be possible. At any other time, he might have laughed as his grandmother said what was completely true. She rarely lifted a finger in her own home, and to judge anyone else—it just wasn’t right.

  “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, and that you’d see reason. Trust your boys, as they deserve to be trusted. They both love you, and they have a right to marry as they see fit.”

  “Mother Stanton, you know as well as I do that a marriage should be a good match, a smart match, one for the right reasons. Joe doesn’t even know this woman, and I won’t have her in my house.”

  Sweat beaded down Joe’s back as he watched the exchange he’d imagined he would be having with his mother played out between the two women. It seeme
d that his grandmother had made up her mind, and he was happy to have her on his side.

  The elder Mrs. Stanton pursed her lips and set her chin. She pulled the shawl more tightly around her and sat in the rocking chair, moving slowly forward and back in the silence.

  “Lucinda, don’t do this,” she said slowly, as she stood and turned toward her daughter-in-law. “It’s not Joe’s new wife who will not be welcome in this house, it is you.”

  Chapter 17

  Olivia swished her finger in the water that was left in the bathtub as she shook her head. Sadie had brought her up to a bedroom on the second floor of her cozy home—Olivia carrying all of the water, though, after Sadie’s twinge in her belly. As Sadie brought dresses from her room into the room, she’d gasped when she’d gotten a glimpse of herself in a proper mirror.

  Not only was her face covered in remaining soot but there were lines running down her face where tears had run. Twigs hung from her hair from when she’d slept in the dirt, and her dress—once a light yellow—was still almost completely black.

  She’d been in such a daze she hadn’t noticed, and she couldn’t imagine how Joe would have wanted to marry her in this state. It was almost funny, and she’d caught Sadie smiling at her a few times before she’d seen what she looked like. No wonder everyone was being so kind.

  “You take a bath and get a good rest, Olivia. Tripp will be home shortly and he and I will make supper. Joe won’t be here until around six or so, so you’ve plenty of time. You look like you could use even more sleep—among other things,” she said as she poked her head through the open door.

  Not long ago, Olivia had been unsure where or when she’d sleep next and she glanced around the room, taking in the blue lace curtains, amber lanterns on the nightstand and the beautiful quilt covering the inviting bed. She’d taken extra time brushing out the knots in her hair before she’d dipped her toe into the warm water. As she sunk in, holding her breath and settling under the warm water to wash her hair, her thoughts wandered to Joe, and her heart warmed. Even though she didn’t know much about him, she trusted Suzanne and Sadie. Besides, any man who would marry her in such a state would have to be kind, wouldn’t he?

 

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