Anonymous Bride Page 16

  Rachel turned to her new guest. “Miss Blackstone, this is my daughter, Jacqueline. She and I have a room downstairs, and if you ever have need of me during the night for any reason, you can find me there.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Jacqueline squinted at the new boarder as if something was wrong, but thankfully, she used her manners.

  “Same here.” Miss Blackstone nodded. She lifted her head and sniffed. “Somethun sure smells good.”

  “That’s baked chicken. Mom’s is the best in town. Even better than at Polly’s Café.”

  A blush heated Rachel’s cheeks at her daughter’s rare compliment. “Why, thank you, sweetie. That’s very kind of you to say. Speaking of chickens, have you fed and watered ours today?”

  Jacqueline scowled but turned and headed for the back door. Feeding the hens wouldn’t take her long, and Rachel didn’t want her daughter around to hear what was certainly to be a heated debate. “Wait just a minute.”

  Jacqueline stopped near the kitchen door, eyeing her with a suspicious gaze as if she expected her mother to give her more chores to do. Rachel looked at her guest. “Miss Blackstone, would you excuse me for a moment?”

  The young woman nodded and shifted her satchel to her other hand.

  Rachel motioned her daughter to follow her into their bedroom. She searched her unmentionable drawer for the little bag where she kept her cash. She pulled out two coins and handed them to Jacqueline. “After you feed the chickens, go to the mercantile and get yourself a treat.”

  The girl’s deep blue eyes widened. “Oh boy! Thanks, Ma.” Jacqueline snatched the coins as if she thought Rachel might change her mind and hurried out the back door. Its loud bang made Rachel cringe.

  She forced a smile and returned to the entryway, where her newest guest waited. She pointed back to her right. “That’s my kitchen back there. You’ve already seen the parlor, and the dining room is right next to it. The only other room downstairs that’s available to guests is the library. We have a large assortment of books if you enjoy reading.”

  “I don’t read much.” The woman’s gaze darted around the kitchen as if the room interested her. She looked refined in her cornflower blue and white blouse and dark blue skirt, but she tugged at the sleeves and kept pulling at the high collar as if it were too tight. She watched everyone intently.

  “If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your room.”

  The woman nodded and followed her back through the hall and toward the stairs. The quiet rumble of male voices echoed from the parlor, and Rachel glanced inside as she passed the doorway, capturing Luke’s gaze. Her heart flip-flopped. How could the man still move her after so many years?

  She placed a hand on her chest as a thought hit her. Luke had been looking at her, not the new bride. Was he hoping to find a friendly face in the midst of such a horrendous event? As she climbed the stairs, she tried to consider how she’d feel if the situation were reversed. What if three men had come to town to marry her when she’d known nothing about them? The awkwardness of the situation would be unbearable.

  At the top of the stairs, she noted that both brides’ doors were shut. Had Miss O’Neil mentioned the new bride’s arrival to Miss Bennett?

  Rachel opened the door to the yellow room and stepped aside to allow Miss Blackstone to enter. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O.

  “I ain’t—uh ... never stayed in a place this purty.” She slowly turned, as if taking in everything in the pale yellow room. The log cabin quilt, with its light yellow accents, matched the wall and added a splash of color.

  Women always loved Rachel’s rooms, while the men sometimes grimaced. But at least the beds were comfortable and the rooms clean. If the men didn’t like the slightly feminine decor, they could stay in the community room above the saloon.

  “Take a few minutes to refresh yourself, and then please join the rest of us in the parlor so we can get this mess sorted out.”

  Miss Blackstone nodded, her lips pursed. No doubt she dreaded confronting the men as much as Rachel. The third bride closed her door, and Rachel stood in the wide upstairs hallway. A small table covered with an embroidered cloth held the hurricane lamp that she lit each night to help her guests see in case they needed to go to the necessary. The striped, cream-colored wallpaper brightened the area and blended well with the floral carpet runner that covered the middle of the floor.

  She looked at the three closed doors, knowing she couldn’t put her task off any longer. How had she become the mediator of this mess?

  She clutched her chest as a thought slapped her across the face. Three brides, each lovely in her own way, were now available, which meant that each man—Luke, Garrett, and Mark—could possibly marry one of them. If that happened, any hope of getting back with Luke would be dashed.

  Remaining a widow and unmarried had never bothered her until Luke had come back to Lookout. Even Rand’s frequent attentions hadn’t swayed her to want to marry again. But with Luke’s return, she’d begun to hope—hope he would forgive her and they could have a second chance. She clenched her fists. What could she do? She could hardly force Luke to forgive her for marrying another man, even though she’d been so in love with Luke. He didn’t know the truth of the situation, and she could never tell him.

  Heaving a sigh, she lifted a hand and knocked on Miss O’Neil’s door. Rachel studied the floor. Why would Luke even consider her again—a tired, aging woman with responsibilities and a rambunctious child—when he could have his pick of these three pretty, young ladies?

  Miss O’Neil opened the door a slit and peered out as if she were frightened of who might be on the other side of the door. “Oh, Mrs. Hamilton.” She pulled the door open, offering a half smile.

  “I wonder if I might have a word with you and Miss Bennett for a moment.”

  The young woman glanced across the hall and scowled. Rachel wondered if the two brides had suffered an altercation of some sort or if she was just concerned about losing Luke to Miss Bennett.

  “Aye, of course you can.” The younger woman straightened her skirt and stepped out of her room.

  Rachel knocked on Miss Bennett’s door, and after a moment, the woman flung it open, staring with curiosity at the two women in the hall. “I need to speak to you and Miss O’Neil, if I may.”

  Miss Bennett nodded and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. “What is it?”

  Rachel licked her lips, wishing she could be anywhere but here. “The men are downstairs, ready to discuss the ... uh ... situation.”

  “Finally.” Miss Bennett crossed her arms over her chest, but the worry in her gaze belied her tough demeanor.

  “Yes, well, there’s been ... uh ... a new development.”

  “What sort of development?” Miss Bennett asked, her eyes wary.

  Rachel glanced at the door to the yellow room. “I’m afraid another bride has arrived.”

  Miss O’Neil looked down, wringing her hands, still upset over meeting Miss Blackstone earlier.

  Miss Bennett’s blue eyes widened, her nostrils flared. “Why, that is utterly preposterous. What kind of game does the marshal have going? I left my home and family to come all this way to marry, and I intend to do so.”

  The door to the yellow room slowly opened, and Miss Blackstone stepped into the hall. All eyes turned in her direction as each woman sized up the other. Rachel wondered what they were thinking. What would she think if she were in their situation?

  A verse from Psalm 82:3 popped into her mind. “Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy.” In spite of the possibility of losing Luke again, sympathy filled her heart. None of this was the brides’ fault, and as a Christian woman, she was obligated to make things as easy for them as possible, no matter the cost.

  Miss Blackstone lifted her chin and glared at the other two brides. “Maybe I was the last to arrive, but I’ll tell y’all here and now that I plan on winnin’ the marshal’s hand.”

/>   ***

  Jack tossed a handful of feed in the air and grinned as the chickens flapped their wings and raced to be the first to catch one of the tasty morsels. She didn’t like tending the dumb, smelly birds, but she sure enjoyed eating them. She sprinkled another scoop of feed on the ground and then poured water from the bucket into two water bowls.

  The two coins her mother had given her clinked in her pocket. Jack left the pen, set the bucket by the well, and fingered the coins. Ma must have really wanted to get rid of her since she’d given her so much money. Her mind raced with all the things she could buy with it. Twenty pieces of penny candy. Or maybe she could get a dime novel and a sweet treat. Or a dill pickle from the barrel—those never failed to make her mouth water.

  She rounded the corner of the house just in time to see someone duck behind the Texas azalea bush that grew almost below the parlor window. Jack darted back against the rear of the house and then peeked around the corner. She had planned to stop and listen in that very spot before getting her treat. No bribe was going to make her miss out on hearing the hullabaloo that was sure to occur now that another bride had arrived.

  Jack hunkered down and scurried around the corner of the house. Keeping low and behind the bush, she tiptoed to the edge of the shrub. Looking through the leaves, she recognized Jenny Evans, the lady newspaper owner. She must be out to get a story, and Jack knew she was about to get a good one. The brides had been the talk of the town when there were only two of them. What would people say now that another one had arrived?

  Her ma’s lacy curtains fluttered through the open window. If she stayed on this side of the bush, she was certain to miss out on most of the conversation that was sure to drift out. Miss Evans peeked up and through the window, then ducked back down and scribbled something on her pad of paper.

  Jack scowled and bit the inside of her cheek. “Humbug.”

  Well, if Miss Evans could spy on the brides, so could she. As quick as a greased pig, she dashed around the bush and slid up against the house. Miss Evans gasped and covered her mouth with one hand while holding her notepad against her chest with the other. Her flaring nostrils and wide eyes reminded Jack of a spooked horse.

  She leaned toward the woman and whispered, “What’cha doing?”

  Miss Evans’s mouth worked as if she’d swallowed a bug, but nothing came out. She patted her chest and seemed to be trying to breathe normally. Jack grinned, knowing she’d scared the woman half to death.

  After taking a few moments to compose herself, Miss Evans leaned toward Jack. “I’m just trying to get a story for my paper,” she whispered. “I asked to sit in on the discussion between the men and the brides, but the marshal refused. What else could I do?”

  The woman’s soft breath tickled the edge of Jack’s ear, and she rubbed it. “Spy on them, I guess.” She grinned, and Miss Evans smiled back.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Miss Evans held out her hand. “Deal?”

  Jack pressed her back against the side of the house and eyed the woman. “I won’t tell if you give me twenty cents,” she whispered.

  Miss Evans’s brows shot up, and her mouth twitched. Jack frowned. Was she laughing at her?

  “I like enterprising people.” She dug around in her skirt pocket, pulled out two dimes, and handed them to Jack. “Deal.”

  ***

  Luke paced the parlor, waiting for the women to come downstairs while his cousins argued over the event.

  “I told you this was a bad idea when you first thought it up, didn’t I?” Mark glared at his brother.

  Garrett curled his lip. “If you were so all fired against it, why did you write to those two brides?”

  Mark fell back against his chair and ran his hand through his curly blond hair. “I don’t know. You made it sound like such a good idea that I got caught up wanting to find Luke a wife.”

  “I don’t need any one bride shopping for me. When I’m ready to marry, I’ll find my own.” Luke muttered a growl and turned toward the side window, arms crossed. He stared outside. Whatever made them think he needed their help in finding a wife?

  A noise outside snagged his attention. He stepped to the side of the window, pressing his back to the wall, and peered down. The bushes rustled, and then he saw the top of a head—Jack’s head. He bit back a smile, knowing the girl was listening in. He probably should shoo her away, but given the same situation when he’d been a boy, he would have eavesdropped, too. Besides, she’d know everything soon enough.

  Rachel cleared her throat. Garrett and Mark shot to their feet, looking like schoolboys who’d pulled a prank and were now sitting in a meeting with the teacher and their parents. Luke shifted his attention to Rachel and the three brides coming into the room. He’d always figured mail-order brides were homely women who couldn’t find a husband, but that wasn’t the case with the trio of females in the parlor.

  His gaze was drawn to Rachel. Though she was probably close to ten years older than the other women, she was still willowy and pretty, with her pale blue eyes and soft brown hair. He couldn’t help wondering why Rachel hadn’t remarried. That Rand Kessler sure seemed interested in her.

  He scowled at the thought. If he didn’t want her, why did it bother him to think of her marrying some other man?

  “Ladies, if you will please have a seat, we will get things started.” Rachel held out her hand, and each of the women scurried past her and sat.

  Rachel introduced everyone and looked at Luke and then his cousins, as if she didn’t know where to start. Maybe he should help her out. He stepped forward. “First off, let me say that I’m sorry about this mess. I knew nothing about any of this and didn’t write to any of you.”

  Miss O’Neil sucked in a loud breath that sounded like a hiccup and held her hands in front of her mouth. “Blessit be.”

  Miss Bennett and Miss Blackstone exchanged glances but kept silent.

  “What Garrett and Mark did was inexcusable.” Rachel cut both men a scathing glance. “But I also know they meant well when they tried to find Lu—uh ... the marshal—a wife.” Rachel picked up a Bible off a nearby table and held it to her chest, as if drawing strength from it. She faced Luke’s cousins again. “Do either of you have anything to say?”

  Garrett glanced at his brother and then stepped to the center of the room. “We had good intentions, but we never expected to get the results we did. I’ll admit that I wrote letters to two of you, but I really didn’t think any woman would be willing to travel clear to Lookout to marry, and I only sent money for traveling expenses to Miss Bennett.”

  Mark cleared his throat, his neck and ears flaming red. “I, uh ... sent travel money to Miss O’Neil.”

  “You were wrong about us not wanting to come here.” Miss Bennett squared her shoulders as if daring Garrett to argue with her.

  “That’s right,” Miss Blackstone said, lifting her chin in the air.

  “Well, be that as it may,” Rachel said, “the only proper thing to do would be to pay the ladies’ ways back to wherever they need to go.”

  “No!” The three women shouted in unison.

  Miss Blackstone shot to her feet. “There ain—uh ... there’s nothing for me back in Missouri. I came here to marry the marshal, and that’s what I intend to do.”

  Miss Bennett jumped up and faced her opponent, blue eyes flashing. “I was the first to arrive, so it only seems fair I should marry Marshal Davis. I have no intention of returning home, either.”

  “Oh, saints preserve us.”

  Luke stepped back. How could something like this have happened?

  “Please, everybody, let’s remain civil.” The women sat down at Rachel’s gentle admonishment. “Do any of you wish to return home?”

  The trio of brides shook their heads.

  “All right then, let’s see if we can come up with a different solution.” Rachel turned to face the men. “I suppose you men could pay the women’s room and board until they found work or uh ... someone else t
o marry.”

  “Or maybe they should just marry the brides.” Luke grinned at the thought then sobered as he realized that still left one bride.

  Garrett shook his head. “I’m not ready to marry.”

  “Me either.” Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

  “Then what do you suggest we do?” Rachel stood in the parlor entryway looking like a warrior matron ready to fight for her young charges. “It would seem we have a stalemate.”

  Suddenly, Jenny Evans strode through the parlor doors with Jack fast on her heels. “A breech of promise is grounds for a lawsuit.” Miss Evans’s eyes shone bright. She held her notepad to her chest and looked at the brides. “I know a good attorney who will sue the britches off those three men for falsely luring you to town under the guise of marriage.”

  Luke stood stunned to silence like the rest of the group. Even the brides appeared shocked at Jenny’s declaration.

  “You’ve forced these poor women to leave the comforts of their home and travel hundreds of miles, and now you refuse to marry any of them?” Jenny glared at Luke. Why should her accusations make him feel guilty when he had no part in this loco scheme?

  Rachel took a step forward. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of solution without something as drastic as a lawsuit.”

  “No, I think these women should sue the marshal and the Corbett brothers as accomplices. Of course, the suit could always be dropped if the marshal agreed to marry one of the women.”

  Miss Bennett stood and scurried over to stand beside Miss Evans. “I believe this woman has a point. Marry one of us, me preferably, or we’ll sue you men. Don’t you agree, ladies?”

  The other two brides glanced at each other. Miss Blackstone shoved up from her seat and joined them. Miss O’Neil was slower to follow and seemed to do so only to avoid being left out.

  Jenny smiled. “There you have it, gentlemen. What will it be? A wedding or a lawsuit?”

  “This is ridiculous.” Garrett jumped up. “A lawsuit could ruin us and put us out of business. We’ve worked hard to make a go of our freight line, and this town needs our services. Luke would probably lose his job as marshal, and how would he support a wife then?”