Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) (2 page)

Oh, my.

“Miss? According to your ticket, this is your stop.” The conductor reached over and took charge of her valise, as the train whistle sounded. “You’ll need to get off here or go on down to Pine Bluff. What’s it going to be?”

Laurel stood, tugged on her gloves and smoothed the front of her dress. The effort did nothing toward calming the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. Glancing once more out the window, she said, “Here. Flat Rock Point is my destination.”

She couldn’t have said why, but once on the platform, her nerves calmed somewhat. Perhaps it was taking that definitive step into her future. She was embarking on her next adventure. A couple of nerves kicked up a notch and she held her breath, as her future walked towards her.

“Miss Weidner?”

The sound of his voice stirred the butterflies causing their wings to beat wildly against the stays of her corset. She force herself to breathe.

“Laurel, please.” She smiled and offered her hand in greeting. “Mr. Benning?”

His hand closed around hers. “Griffin . . . or Griff, my loggers call me Griff.”

She took great comfort in the fact that he seemed as nervous as she was. “Griffin, thank you for meeting me, it’s good to finally be here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The conductor handed over her valise, tapped the brim of his cap and hopped back onto the train’s step. As the engineer blew the whistle and headed the train away from the station, he waved goodbye and disappeared inside the car.

Griffin escorted her toward the depot away from the grime and dust of the wheels and track. It had been a while since he’d been in the company of a refined woman, but he did remember a few of the things he’d learned from his mother.

While waiting for the quiet to return, he stole a glance at the woman who’d agreed to be his wife. She was prettier than he’d imagined and he couldn’t believe his good fortune. A few of the loggers’ brides were not what the men had wanted and two of them had left Flat Rock Point on the next train headed north.

“Laurel,” he began. “I took the liberty of getting a room at the hotel. I thought you’d want to freshen up before we meet with the preacher later this afternoon.” He’d thought it’d be nice if their first night together could be in a nice room instead of his house, which desperately needed a woman’s touch. He didn’t mention that, though.

“This afternoon?” she repeated. “I thought we’d have some time to get acquainted before we married.”

He noticed some of the rose tint drained from her face. That was saying something, too, since her features resembled those of a delicate porcelain doll.

“As it turns out, the preacher is heading out tomorrow morning, after service, on his circuit ride and he won’t be back to Flat Rock Point for six weeks.”

For the flash of a second, her eyes resembled those of the deer he’d shot while hunting. It was like she knew she was doomed, and yet wondered if she still might escape. The only difference was, instead of being brown, hers were the most incredible shade of blue he’d ever seen. Sort of like the sky on a cold, crisp afternoon just before the dusk.

She drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and met his gaze. “I haven’t eaten since last night’s dinner. Do you suppose we could get to know more about each other over lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s a good idea. I ate early this morning before driving into town.” He slipped his hand under her elbow. “I’ll take you to the café. We can get a good meal there.”

“Thank you.” She gestured over to the side of the platform. “Is it all right to leave my things here unattended?”

He followed her line of sight to two trunks, a suitcase and several hat boxes. “Those are all yours?”

“Yes, I decided not to bring everything at this time, but to have them shipped later.”

She smiled at him like having this many belongings was normal, and maybe it was in other circumstances, but not in the instance of a mail order bride. They were supposed to be destitute weren’t they? And desperate? At least that’s what he’d heard from the other loggers. Laurel Weidner didn’t look destitute or desperate. She appeared refined. She had quality.

He, on the other hand, while not destitute, was most certainly desperate. He had to make sure he had a mother for his girls and a well-tended home so he could get them back. And then there was the bet. The money he won from that would surely come in handy.

What if she didn’t like him or he frightened her off? What would he do if she bolted and ran? He had to make sure that didn’t happen. He had to tell her only as much as she needed to know to convince her to stay, and not let her find out about the bet.

“I’ll have the station master arrange to have everything delivered to the house, so they’ll be there when we arrive tomorrow.”

“All except for the small suitcase, if you don’t mind.” She pointed to the one sitting under a hat box.

“This one?”

“Thank you, Griffin. I appreciate that.”

After he made the arrangements, he escorted her to the café for their meal.

CHAPTER TWO

Laurel sat at the table as Griffin held her chair. He seemed to be a nice man, but he had balked slightly when he saw how much she’d brought with her. His reaction might have been comical if she were more confident of her decision. Had she brought too much? It hadn’t occurred to her he might not have enough room for all her belongings. She’d taken a chance, as it was, leaving some of her things at the boarding house.

She asked for a glass of water and a cup of tea from their server while he asked for a cup of coffee. The café wasn’t as large as some in Philadelphia or Boston, but was large enough for about ten tables and chairs. Half of which held patrons. The establishment was clean and, though the table cloths didn’t match, each was clean, starched, and freshly ironed.

“So, Griffin,” she began. “Are you from Arkansas originally?”

“I, umm, no. I’m from Texas. I came up here five years ago looking for a job with the Sealy Lumber Mill. I hired on and, shortly after, I married the boss’ daughter. When she passed away last year, I stayed for the job and my girls.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. What ages are your girls?”

“Coral is five and Josie is three.” He smiled. “They’re very sweet and quite precocious.”

She could see his pride in his children and took that as a good sign toward his temperament and personality. She sipped her tea, and then asked, “Do you still have family living in Texas?”

“My parents, a cousin and his family live near Dallas.” He took a drink from his cup. “How about you? Any family back East?”                                

“My parents and two sisters live in Philadelphia, but we aren’t close. The aunt I lived with in Lawrence passed away several months ago. There’s no one else.”

There was no reason to say anything more about her father, Peter Weidner or her mother, at this point. As far as her father was concerned, she’d disappeared without a trace and, with any luck, he’d stop looking for her. She’d been careful not to leave a forwarding address with anyone but Violet and she’d already left to meet her groom in North Dakota.

She knew, though, in her heart her father wouldn’t give up. She also knew he loved her and wanted the best for her. It was just that they had very different ideas as to what was best for her future. What she missed the most was having communication with her mother.

Adelaide Weidner possessed a sweet, gentle soul, but had been under the complete domination of her husband for the last twenty-five years. She hadn’t ever been mistreated or physically abused, for Peter had given her the best money could buy along with a perfect standing in Philadelphia society. Laurel knew her mother had strength and determination. She’d seen her in action with their staff and had watched her deal with merchants in various situations. The fact that she wouldn’t speak against her husband baffled the imagination. It seemed she allowed her husband to tell her what she really needed or wanted.

Laurel had decided, as a young girl, she would never surrender that much control to a man. Griffin Benning seemed nice enough now, but she found herself wondering how long it would take for him to show his true colors.

She suddenly realized he was speaking. She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she’d lost track. Her father had lectured her since childhood about having her head in the clouds.

“I apologize for not paying attention to the conversation. I’m afraid I was wool gathering.” She smiled and rearranged the napkin in her lap. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m sorry you’ve lost someone close to you. I know what it’s like.”

“Thank you, I’m sure you do, being a widower. But hopefully we’ll be able to help each other with those feelings of loss.” She sipped her tea and savored the robust flavor. Quite a nice surprise, since she had no idea what to expect from this part of the country. The books she’d read before boarding the train talked about Indians and outdoor privies. What she’d seen so far had been a pleasant surprise. “Is your home in town?”

“No, I live alongside the river a few miles south. It isn’t far, though. The location allows for frequent trips into town to get supplies.”

Griffin tried to read the look on her face, but she wasn’t giving anything away. He flagged down the waitress to place their order and to get a refill for his coffee. He’d been watching her since they’d sat down. The way she carried herself, her table manners, her clothes, her speech . . . everything about Laurel Weidner supported his first impression of her at the train station. Quality. Too nice, maybe, for Flat Rock Point.

He should probably give her an easy way to back out of their deal and not hold her to their verbal agreement. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had to have a wife. His in-laws would be here with his daughters for Thanksgiving in about three weeks. No, he had to have a wife, no matter what.

He continued to mull their situation over, and when their food came, he knew what he had to do regardless of what was right or wrong. While Laurel deserved to understand living here wasn’t what she was used to, he needed her to stay to cook, clean, and take care of his girls.

Half-way through their meal, he started up the conversation again. “You said you’re from Philadelphia?”

“Yes, I am. Why?”

“No reason other than you didn’t strike me as the small-town type.” He picked up his cup and drank the last of his coffee. “Our little town may be a few steps below what you’re accustomed to and I can’t have you backing out of our agreement because you can’t handle the differences.”

She placed her fork on the table beside her plate, squared her shoulders, and folded her hands. “Have you lied about the requirements you placed in your ad?”

“I have not.”

“On the surface, have I misrepresented myself or disappointed you in some way?”

“Not that I know of, but I—”

“As far as I’m aware, then, I can meet your specifications.” She reached into her reticule and produced a small piece of newspaper. Smoothing the creases, she read, “. . .
need wife to keep house and raise 2 daughters . . .
’ I’ve stated in my response that I can do this. I am a God fearing woman and am in very good health. If you wish, you may check my teeth. Although I’d appreciate the opportunity to rinse out my mouth.”

He stared at her for a second, admiring her directness and her determination. He smiled and answered, “That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer.”

She picked up her fork again and leveled her gaze on him. “Griffin, I don’t mean to be difficult or obstinate. It’s just that I’ve entered into an agreement with you and I intend to honor that agreement. I won’t be leaving.”

“Good.” He picked up his own fork and proceeded to eat. He wondered what had happened to make her come out here by herself to marry a strange man, to face the unknown. What or who was she running from? Was she in trouble with the law? Was he ultimately putting his children in danger?

No. He answered his own question almost as soon as he had the thought. He’d always been a fair judge of character, had to be in his business of hiring men to work in the logging business. Trust was imperative. They put their lives in each other’s hands every day. It was the same with his family.

No. Laurel Weidner wasn’t running from the law. She was only escaping a situation life had handed her and now she was the answer to the situation life had handed him. They’d figure it out together.

He ate the last bite on his plate and saw she had finished as well. “Shall I take you to the hotel so you can freshen up before we go see the preacher? Do you have everything you need?”