Blaire's Ambushed Heart

by Marlene Bierworth

  Chapter 3

  Blaire only half-listened as Chase Falcon, the affluent but in no way modest resident and businessman chatted non-stop for the duration of the ride to Ella Milton’s Brides of Pelican Rapids Agency.

  “I apologize that you had to wait,” he said. “When I took over the livery service, I thought I’d purchased enough equipment and horses to service travelers off the train. Lately, due to the improvement in the weather, the numbers of folks arriving in town grows daily.”

  “I’m certain it helps that Pelican Rapids is at the end of the line, and pioneers cannot tote their life’s belongings on their backs to the hotel or the stagecoach stop before continuing their journey westward. You appear to have hit upon a goldmine of a business, Mr. Falcon.”

  Chase laughed and made a point of jingling the coins in his pocket. “Aye, I have an eye for success. Makes me a fine catch for a lovely lady such as yourself.”

  “Not only wealthy and smart but humble, as well,” Blaire said as she turned her face to hide a grimace.

  “I immediately put a wall down the middle of the huge blacksmith’s shop to keep the heat and stench of burning iron out of my barn. Thankfully, I had the foresight to build a section on the back to house more animals and a larger shed to hold the wagons and carriages.”

  “And the spacious corral that allows the animals to graze,” Blaire said. “Don’t forget about that.”

  “Do you mock me, woman?” he asked, grinning as if that would be an acceptable thing.

  “Not likely, sir. How much farther is it?”

  “There is the sign straight ahead: The Brides of Pelican Rapids Agency.” He scanned Blaire from head to foot. “Can’t imagine why a fine-fitting figure of a woman would need to resort to marrying a stranger in a new land.”

  “You should mind your own business, Mr. Falcon.”

  She looked at him closer and thought he dressed far too grand for a man mucking out horse stables, and for a fleeting second, she silently debated if he’d used horse-pucky to glue down his hair, for not a single strand blew in the afternoon breeze. His shoes actually shone, and she could not imagine this meticulous man in dungarees and rubber boots. The strong pine fragrance that oozed from the pores in his body disqualified him from her theory of muck-laced hair, and she smiled at the silliness of her thoughts.

  Clean-cut clothes seemed to suit the man next to her, and she knew Russell Davis would be thrilled should his daughter wed a man such as he. The bottom line on the business ledger was how her father calculated success. He might have even made the trip to Minnesota to walk her down the aisle, but a country doctor and his meager salary were not what he’d wanted for her, and the angry man had let her know countless times as she’d prepared to leave Kentucky.

  The horse trotted down the long lane, and the driver stopped the carriage in front of the covered porch that swept the entire width of the colonial farmhouse. Chase helped her down from the seat, leaving his hand to linger on hers far longer than necessary.

  “I enjoyed the ride, Miss Davis, and may I be so bold as to say that if your mate is a frog and you find yourself croaking at the mere sight of him,” he chuckled, once again expressing his opinion of the entire mail-order bride method of finding a husband, “you know where to find me.” Chase Falcon brought her reluctant hand to his mouth and brushed his lips lightly across her skin.

  Chase proceeded with mild grunts of displeasure as he unloaded her two trunks and cases on the ground. She almost felt embarrassed at having packed so much, but a woman needed to have familiar things close at hand, and including memories of her homeland might help to keep any homesickness at bay.

  He tipped his hat, but he did not appear eager to leave, and it was not right to encourage him. Ms. Milton could be watching through the window at that very moment or perhaps even the man chosen to marry her.

  Blaire scanned the area—almost as if she were a child who’d been caught in a naughty act—before she said her final goodbye to Chase.

  “Thank you, Mr. Falcon, for your promptness in getting me to my destination. It would have been hours had you made me wait for the next available driver to return.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Davis.” He winked quite unabashedly and added, “Don’t forget my offer.”

  Instead of a reply, Blaire straightened her shoulders, and while holding her head high, turned her back to him and walked toward the steps.

  The aroma of flowers blooming in the well-maintained garden provided a wonderful relief to her overwrought senses. The livery man’s pungent odor—which he most likely considered manly—had been overbearing. The colors spread out before her brought her mother’s patch at Pine Crest Estate to memory, and the first pang of homesickness crept over her quite unexpectedly.

  She reached her hand upward to knock and was surprised when a fiftyish woman opened it with a broad smile covering her entire face, and excited blue eyes scrunched in the corners forming crow’s feet as she scanned Blaire.

  “I am Blaire Davis, one day early, but it’s better than one day late.”

  “Interesting,” she said as she pulled Blaire across the threshold. “Your match has been here for two days. Love to see eager applicants.”

  Blaire thought the comment deserved a lighter follow-up topic. “Your spring garden is magnificent.”

  “You love flowers?”

  “The wilder, the better.”

  “I think I’m going to like you.” Ella went to close the door and noticed the trunks. “Did you bring everything you own or perhaps think us so uncivilized in the north as to have no dress shops?”

  “I’ve had a few extra years to fill my hope chest.”

  Ella laughed. “Well, we won’t be dragging that upstairs for the short time you’ll be spending at the farm. Take from it what you need—I’ll wait.”

  Blaire hurried to stuff what she needed into her luggage, then pushed the trunks under the wooden bench seat. Lifting the overstuffed bag, she smiled at Ms. Milton and said, “I’m ready now.”

  “Good. I’ll show you to your room.”

  The house was a modest construction but inside, Blaire appreciated the attention to small details and the vivid blue and green oriental rug that lay in front of the single entrance door. Making their way to the staircase on the right side in the main hall, Blaire carried a bulging case in one hand and held the dark-wood railing with the other as they climbed to the second floor.

  “Since you appear to love plants so much, I believe I will put you in the lavender room. It faces the front of the house.” Ella opened a door and walked inside. Long narrow windows allowed plenty of daylight into the room, and the white drapes were trimmed in lavender on the sides, top, and bottom, complementing the array of mauves, blues, greens and whites in the floral wallpaper on the walls.

  “My,” Blaire said, “it’s like my own private garden. Thank you, Ms. Milton.

  “Happy you’re pleased with your accommodations,” she said, adding a chuckle. “I do believe you will be equally pleased with the man I’ve matched with you.”

  “Oh? Does he look like a flower?”

  “If you know of one that reeks of manliness, then yes, a rare flower he is.”

  The mention of the word reek brought images of her escort, the arrogant Mr. Falcon, but then she relaxed, recalling he had little faith in this whole mail-order-bride business, and besides, her groom held a position much higher, in her opinion: a doctor.

  “I shall have to think about that for a while,” Blaire said as she plunked her case on the four-poster double bed.

  Ella walked to the door. “I’ll bring some fresh water up for you so you can wash. If you need to rest, I understand. I can’t imagine riding all the way from Kentucky on that horrid contraption.”

  “It was faster than a stagecoach, and the ever-changing scenery passed the time rather pleasantly, making me almost forget the clatter of iron and the insufferable soot,” Blaire said. “So, yes, I will lay down for a while and regain my bear
ings.”

  “I’ll leave you, then,” Ella said. “Dinner is served at six.”

  The door shut, and Blaire heard Ms. Milton’s footsteps retrace their path to the lower floor.

  Blaire opened her bag and hung two dresses and some accessories in the wardrobe. She put her personal belongings she’d need in the bureau. A lot of room remained, should she need to rescue more garments from the trunk downstairs. Her wedding dress, a luxury she’d permitted herself before leaving home, was wrapped in tissue paper, and lay waiting for the big day. She wondered what kind of ceremony her doctor would want, if any. Perhaps they’d wed, and he’d whisk her off to parts unknown. The thought should have frightened her, but if you could not trust a person dedicated to serving and healing his fellow man, who could a girl trust?

  Her thoughts reflected upon the doctor who’d thrust himself upon her at the hospital in Kentucky, and she concluded that perhaps not all men in that honorable profession had worthy intentions.

  Blaire stopped that line of thinking, exhausted from debating her choice to travel to Minnesota; she was there, and that was that. Sleep would put things into perspective. Tomorrow, everything would appear rosier, and her chaotic thoughts would be put in order.

  The next day, Blaire awakened refreshed, and once again, the excitement to begin the next adventure in her life had returned. Ella Milton had steered clear of business-talk during dinner, and they’d enjoyed light conversation about flowers, farming and unique features found in Minnesota, where she planned to spend the remainder of her life. Her son, Josiah, was a pleasant young man, and she wondered if he remained unmarried so he could help his widowed mother. They appeared to have a close relationship.

  She’d caught Josiah studying her, more than once, and she wondered if he was storing all of his first impressions to share with her soon-to-be-husband, who was restricted to the barn area now that his bride had arrived. It was all so secretive and exciting.

  Ms. Milton was a stickler for keeping to the schedule, and Wednesday had been the day slated to interview and introduce the new couple. Today was Wednesday, and Blaire could not be more pleased to have the suspense over with.

  Punctually at ten o’clock, Blaire knocked on the last door on the right side at the end of the main hallway, and when summoned to enter, she walked into the library that doubled as the agency’s office. Dark wood shelving lined the walls with windows draped in gold curtains on two sides of the room to bring light from the outside in. The ceiling was magnificent in unusual antique white and olive-green moldings. Another oriental carpet lay under the massive desk and Ms. Milton sat behind it on a leather burgundy chair. A separate table with a globe perched on top, spoke of an interest in world affairs, a complement to the intelligence of the woman who dared to run a successful business in a man’s entrepreneurial world. The smell of old and new leather books on shelves that reached to the ceiling assaulted her senses. The rare, exceptional trinkets placed strategically around the library, caught her interest. The woman’s choice in décor suited her character. Two leather armchairs sat on each side of the ornate fireplace close to the doorway where Blaire stood spellbound at the display of finery exhibited in small town Pelican Rapids.

  Ella beckoned for Blaire to sit in one of the chairs. While the matchmaker scribbled in her book, Blaire waited patiently, peering through the window that overlooked the meadows and fields at the rear of the house.

  Ms. Milton turned to the next page, and brought the leger to join Blaire in the last available chair by the hearth. She leaned back and relaxed. “I’m sorry, my dear—just finishing up my notes. Your young man had his meeting earlier, and from what I’ve witnessed so far from the two of you, makes me eager for you to become acquainted.”

  “That is encouraging,” Blaire said.

  “Oh, you mustn’t fear a thing. Dr. Frazer is quite delightful.”

  Blaire nodded but remained quiet, her sweaty fingers sticking together as she interlaced them in her lap.

  “I have a string of questions, although I am quite confident with the groundwork I did prior to contacting you and Dr. Frazer,” Ella said. “Are you ready?”

  “Certainly.”

  The questions were easy to answer and included things like summarizing her first twenty-four years, her family, her work experience, and her eligibility. Even the personal questions concerning beliefs and motives seemed clearer that morning. Blaire was more than determined to marry the match the bridal agency would provide and change her status from spinster to married woman.

  Ella shut her book and smiled. “I have asked my cook, Minnie Jacobs, to set a grand table for you and Dr. Frazer to enjoy together. Josiah and I will eat on the porch to allow you some privacy. I don’t think two mature individuals headed for the altar require chaperoning, but we will be within earshot of a scream, should you feel the need for us to intervene.”

  “I can handle myself, Ms. Milton. Mr. Frazer will know that right from the start.”

  “You won’t scare the poor man away, will you? He is as nervous as you are.”

  “I shall try my best, and it’s nice to know I’m not the only one edgy about this whole encounter.” She stood. “I’ll be off, then, to prepare for the fine dining experience you’ve arranged while I meet my future husband. Thank you for your help in this matter.”

  “Oh, I’m not nearly finished. When you discuss the wedding with Dr. Frazer, you have two choices: you can wed in the drawing-room here at the farmhouse, or we can go to the Lutheran church in town.”

  “I will remember that. Thank you again,” Blaire said.

  Upstairs she scrubbed her ivory complexion until it shone with a rosy glow. Her eyelashes were extra long—the envy of her friends back home—and her chestnut colored eyes sparkled with specks of gold. At the oval mirror, she heaped thick dark curls in circles on top of her head, and after washing her body with a lavender fragrance soap, she pulled the bulky layers of her skirt on. Then, while holding her breath, she squeezed into the tight-fitting bodice that reached below her waist to produce that hourglass figure that was all the rage.

  She sighed when her best efforts to enhance what the Good Lord had given her stood complete, and the noon hour fast approached. The moment was upon her, and she embraced a twinge of fear which strangely, kept her feeling razor-sharp and motivated to put her best foot forward.

  Chapter 4

  When she arrived in the dining room, Lyle Frazer jumped to his feet. Instead of making an awkward introduction, they both froze and stared at one another.

  Lyle was the first to recover. “The woman who hears music in the water.”

  She smiled and answered, “The man who likes a good joke.”

  He laughed heartily. “Looks like providence has had the final laugh.”

  “I do hope not the final one,” Blaire said. “It appears we are meant to share many laughs in the future.”

  Relief flooded Lyle as he hurried over to offer his arm. “My name is Lyle Frazer, and I am forever in your debt for making the trip to Minnesota.”

  “My name is Blaire Davis, and likewise, I am in your debt, sir, for giving me a reason to strike out on my own. I’ve lived in my parent’s home far too long.”

  Lyle pulled a chair out close to his right side so she could sit. He took his place next to her at the head of the table and instinctively reached for her hand. “If you are in agreement, I should like to make it a practice for us to hold hands as we give thanks for the meal.”

  Blaire opened her palm. He laid his over top of hers, and she bowed her head. “It suits me perfectly fine, Mr. Frazer.”

  The prayer began: “Dear Lord, it is with great joy that we come to you on this long-anticipated day. Thank you for this woman you have sent me, and help me to be the man she needs in her life. Thank you for this abundance of food, for Minnie, who has prepared it, and for the Miltons that have conveniently disappeared to give us this chance to become acquainted. Once again, we are humbled at your wisdom and provision to
your children. Amen.” He squeezed her hand before he let go, and when he opened his eyes, she was staring at him.

  “Have I offended you, Miss Davis?”

  “On the contrary. Marrying a heathen would have been dreadful, and I fear I may have had to step back from the arrangement. Your letter briefly alluded to wanting a woman of faith, and my heart hoped yours would be a daily commitment to the Lord and not simply one to put a good face forward. So, I offer my heartfelt thanks to the Lord for proving you, and likewise, hope I will be the wife you need.”

  Lyle’s face lit up, dispelling any doubting shadows that had nagged him that the agreement had been a foolish undertaking. He called out, “We are ready to be served, Minnie.”

  The cook appeared, carrying bowls of piping hot cream of potato soup and a platter of bread and butter. “Enjoy,” Minnie said. “I will bring the next course in five minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Blaire said as the woman slipped away. She looked at Lyle, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

  “I have a confession to make,” Lyle said.

  “So soon, Mr. Frazer?”

  He grinned at her banter. “Yes, I’m afraid so. When we met ever so briefly at the river, I could not take my eyes off you and have repented ever since, for my mind should have been on the woman Ms. Milton selected for me.”

  Blaire chuckled as she lifted her spoon. “I dare say, I might have been guilty of the same transgression.”

  “Really? You don’t know how that pleases me.”

  “I may have an inkling.” She sipped the soup off the end of her spoon and moaned with pleasure. “Oh, my, this is delicious. I must forewarn you—my cooking skills lack greatly in comparison. I have been employed outside the home, and have been spoiled with the luxury of a cook all my life, but I am eager to learn.”

  “I’m not a stranger in the kitchen,” Lyle said. “We shall stumble around the cookstove together until we get it right.”

  “Tell me about the settlement where you live.”