Love in Independence (Holiday Mail Order Brides) (4 page)

Betsy continued to shake her head as she trudged up the stairs, muttering to herself the whole way.

  Mrs. Vander gave a sigh of relief, and turned back to her g
uest. “Well now,” she called as she re-entered the parlor. “Is everybody hungry?”

* * *

  Winnie had sat long enough. No sooner had Betsy answered the front door, than Mrs. Vander was shoving her down the hall to her room! What was going on? Was the woman out of her mind? Winnie cringed at the thought and stood. What if she
is
out of her mind? She glanced around the room for her satchel. There was no sign of it. What if she had to get out of there in a hurry? Oh, good Lord, what was she going to do?

“Leave! That’s what!” Winnie looked at the door. Yes, she’d go downstairs, thank Mrs. Vander for her hospitality, and get out of there! She strode to the door, reached for the handle, and it flew open. “Oh, good
heavens!”

Betsy stood on the other side and folded her arms across her chest. “You were expecting someone else?”

Winnie backed up a step or two, a hand to her chest. “You scared me to death! I didn’t expect the door to open like that.”

“It wouldn’t have opened at all if I hadn’t unlocked it.”

“Locked? Why would the door be … locked?”

Betsy tucked a key into her pocket. “On account
of Mrs. Vander doesn’t want Mr. Vander to find out she’s been meddling in other folks’ affairs.”

“What? I don’t understand,” said Winnie with a shake of her head.

Betsy smiled. “You will, just as soon as you go on down to dinner.”

Winnie’s stomach growled at the mention of food. She licked her lips.

“It’s Sunday, so it’s roast chicken,” Betsy drawled. She stepped to the bed and casually fluffed the pillows. “Mashed potatoes and gravy, too.”

Winnie felt her knees grow weak. She hadn’t
eaten since early that morning, and shouldn’t she at least have something before she left? She licked her lips again and turned to Betsy.

“Go on, they won’t bite,” she told her.

Winnie left, her stomach rumbling like a freight train as she went down the hall. Betsy poked her head out and smiled. “I didn’t let you out; you done just walked out on your own.” She cackled to herself, and then set about straightening the room.

Four

Winnie descended the stairs, catching snippets of conversation from below as she went. When she reached the bottom, she recognized the voice of her intended. Her heart leapt in her chest. At last they would meet! What was she going to say? Did she look all right? She spied a mirror and hurried over to check her appearance. Her hair was mussed, and she had dark circles under her eyes. But after all the traveling she’d done, who wouldn’t?  She fixed her hair as best she could and pinched her cheeks to get some color in them. After that, she smoothed her skirts, held her head high, and walked into the dining parlor.

“Well, there she is!” Mr. Vander chortled. “Surprise!”

Winnie smiled at him, looked at her future husband, and sucked in her breath.

He stood, as did Mr. Vander, and stared at her. “Good evening,” he said then glanced between their hosts in confusion. 

Mrs. Vander squeaked in alarm and stood so fast, she almost knocked her chair over. “There you are dear. My, but this
is
a surprise!”

“Yes, isn’t she?” said Mr. Vander.

“What he means, dear, is that I told him you weren’t feeling well, and wouldn’t be down to dinner. I’m so glad you could join us,” Mrs. Vander explained, her face flushed.

Winnie knew she should address
her, but her eyes had become fused with Pastor Luke’s, and she couldn’t tear them away if she’d wanted to. She nodded; her mind a clouded mess.

“Well
, don’t just stand there, Mercy! Have her sit down!” bellowed Mr. Vander.

“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Vander answered, and guided Winnie to a chair at the e
nd of the table. Winnie sat; eyes still glued to her future husband’s, and stared.

“Well, now,” Mrs. Vander choked out. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Yes,” added Mr. Vander. He glanced at Winnie and the pastor, his smile fading, before his brows rose in curiosity. “I say, Mercy, but I haven’t seen anyone stare like that since I spied you through the candy store window back in St. Louis.”

Mrs. Vander blushed. “Oh
, Horace …” she nudged Winnie before she went to sit down.

Winnie shook herself, pulling her gaze away, and tried
to remember how to breathe. Mr. Vander chuckled. “So tell me, where do you two know each other from?”

“Oh, we’ve never met,” said the pastor, his eyes still on Winnie.

“Come again?”

“Oh, what he means, dear, is that … er … that they’ve never met in person,” Mrs. Vander offered.

That got Pastor Luke’s attention. He looked at her, his face contorted with confusion. “What?”

“Wel
l, you see,” Mrs. Vander said, her eyes darting between her husband and the pastor. “Miss Longfellow is in town to … ah … come alongside you to …”

“Be your helpma
te …” Winnie said softly as her eyes were drawn back into his.

  He gazed at her a moment, then, “My
what?!
”

Mrs. Vander stood. “It wasn’t my fault! We thought you needed the help and knew you were all alone!”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Vander boomed. “Mercy! What have you done?”

A knock suddenly sounded at the door and
, before anyone could say anything further, Maude and Martha burst into the parlor. “Mercy!” they cried in unison.

“Mercy …” Mr. Vander add
ed; his voice laced with warning.

“Mercy!” exclaimed Winnie when she saw the look on his face.

“Merrrrrrrcy,” added Betsy with a satisfied smirk.

They stood, each
staring at the other, waiting, but for what, no one really knew. “Well,” Pastor Luke said as he stood, remembering his manners. “Good evening, Mrs. Smythe, Mrs. Tindle. It’s a pleasure to see you here.”

“Good evening, Pastor,” said Maude. She turned to Mercy, her eyes flicking to Winnie. “I take it what we sent for has arrived?”

Mrs. Vander gave her a weak nod.

“And you didn’t see fit to tell us?” asked Martha.

“I thought it best if I took care of it myself, so the two of you wouldn’t have to worry,” said Mrs. Vander with a smile.

“Does this have anything to do with the fireworks we sent for?” asked P
astor Luke.

The three matrons looked at each other. “YES!” they
all cried at once.

“Which bring
s me to the subject of Miss Longfellow!” Mrs. Vander squeaked as she pulled Winnie from her chair. “You’d best go with Mrs. Smythe and Mrs. Tindle. They’ll instruct you on what to do and … how to handle things from here on out.”

Maude pursed her lips together
, eyed Winnie and Mercy, and slowly nodded. “I see, yes. What a fine idea.”

“What?” asked Martha
before she caught on. “Ohhhh, yes! We have so much to talk about and so much to do!” she walked around Winnie and took her other arm.

Winnie, more confused than ever, opened her mouth to speak, but …

“Come along
, now; we mustn’t be late!” Maude boomed. “You have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow. Pastor Luke needs
lots
of help with this year’s Fourth of July celebration!”

“Fourth of July?” Winnie managed.

“Of course, dear …” Mrs. Vander added, her voice pleading. “If you’re going to be a helpmate to Pastor Luke, then we have to show you everything that needs to be done.”

Winnie dug her heels in, stopping Maude and Martha in their tracks. “You mean to tell me I’m here to help Luke Adams prepare for the Fourth of July?”

The three matrons nodded.

Winnie cringed as comprehension dawned. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Mercy, Maude, and Martha froze, eyes wide, and stared at each other a moment.

“Doesn’
t know what?” asked Pastor Luke.

“What a big help Miss Longfellow is going to be,” Betsy calmly said as she stood to one side, a serving tray in her hand. “Lord knows these three haven’t been much
of any.”
She glanced at the three older women with an accusing eye. “
Which is why they called for reinforcements.”

The three women gulped at once.

“Anybody want dessert?” Betsy then asked, giving them no further notice. Maude and Martha’s shoulders slumped in relief as they each let go the breath they’d been holding.  Mercy began to fan herself with frantic movements.

“But this still doesn’t explain …” Winnie started again, but Maude and Martha each gave a yank and began to drag her from the room.  “But, but … what are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

“My house; it’s where the fireworks are being kept,” said Maude as they entered the foyer.

“Good night, Miss Longfe
llow,” Winnie heard Pastor Luke call after them. “I look forward to working with you tomorrow!”

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a lopsided smile. She had no idea what was going on, but she was going to find out. No sooner did the two women have her out the
front door, than she spun on them. “Stop, right he … he …
Oh no, not now!
She took a deep breath. “… here! Explain to me what this is about!”

Maude let go of her arm. “I apologize, Miss Longfellow
, but you see, we’re on a mission of mercy, and
you
are now an active participant.”

“What?”

“Let’s get you to Maude’s house, and we’ll explain everything,” said Martha.

Winnie let go
of her breath, and took another.  She let it go, too, and prayed her stuttering would calm down. “My intended doesn’t know who I am, does he?”

Maude pursed her lips together before she spoke. “No, but he will. Now come with us and we’ll explain.”

Feeling faint from hunger, confused, and now angry, Winnie complied. What else could she do? If Luke Adams didn’t know she was his
mail-order bride then what on earth was she doing here? There was only one way to find out. She let herself be pulled along by the women to Maude’s house, and hopefully some answers.

* * *

“So, you see, that’s why he doesn’t know who you are, and you mustn’t tell him,” Martha explained.

Winnie sat at the kitchen table with the two matrons. Mrs. Smythe had fixed her a bowl of stew and biscuits while she listened to their outlandish tale of finding a wife for their pastor. “You … you lied?”

“Not exactly,” Maude said as she set the bowl on the table. “We … just haven’t informed him yet. I see it more as a problem of supply and demand. We have a pastor who is lonely and all alone in the world. That man needs a wife. But there isn’t a single female in these parts for miles! What else were we supposed to do? Besides, wouldn’t you like to get to know him before you get married?”

“But
, Mrs. Smythe …”

“Call me Maude, and that’s Martha,” she said pointing to her cohort.

“Maude, Martha; you can’t order a mail-order bride, have her show up, and expect it to work out with a groom who doesn’t know he’s getting married!”
Maude sat in the chair opposite Winnie’s. “We had to try, and … oh, couldn’t you find it in your heart to try, as well? Pastor Luke in a wonderful man, Miss Longfellow …”

“Since we’re on a
first-name basis, you might as well call me Winnie.”

“Winnie
; it’s a lovely name,” Martha acknowledged. “That being said, won’t you give Pastor Luke a chance?”

“But I feel like I’m lying!”

“You’re not lying; if anyone is, it’s us,” confessed Maude. “But now that you’re here, let’s forget that you’re a mail-order bride. He really does need an assistant to help him with the Fourth of July celebration. What better way to spend time together and get to know each other?”

Winnie sat back in her chair and groaned.

“Eat something, won’t you?” asked Martha. “You look pale.”

Winnie stared at the food, and swallowed. She felt faint, and knew if she didn’t get some food in her stomach, she could be in trouble later.  She picked up the spoon offered and poked at the stew. “Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?”

“We care, and know that it will work out in the end,” Maude said. “It always does.”

Winnie said nothing but began to eat. The food was wonderful. She shuddered as she swallowed the first hot mouthful and felt it warm her belly. She pushed her anger aside to enjoy the meal and, of course, calm her nerves enough to be able to speak without her stutter. It was bad enough she did it when she was nervous, but now it popped up when she was angry, as well.

Maude and Martha sat in silence until she was done, cleared the dishes away, and then brought out a ledger book and placed it in front of her. “What’s this?” Winnie asked.

“The church records,” Martha announced. “I’m in charge of them, but now that you’re here, you can take over.”

“But, there’s no guarantee
that this will work!”

“Now don’t make a fuss,” said Maude. “Just take a gander at it, look over the names of all the folks, as you’ll want to get to know them, and then tell us what you think.”

Martha’s face screwed up as she stared at Winnie. “You
can
read, can’t you?”

“Yes
, I can read! I just don’t see the point.”

Maude sighed. “Pastor Luke
is a right handsome man, don’t you think?”

Winnie straightened in her chair. “What sort of a question is that?”

“Well, you have to admit, he isn’t hard to look at,” added Martha.

Winnie’s eyes darted from one face to the other. “People ought to be warned about you two,” she said with a sigh, and opened the ledger. “What am I looking for?”

“Oh, any sort of name that stands out. There are folks you ought to know about before you meet them.” Maude told her.

Winnie sighed ag
ain. “What are you saying?”

“Well, some folks around here have … how should I say it? Certain vices …” said Martha.

“Such as, lying about sending for a mail-order bride?” Winnie shot back.

“Now
, don’t go holding that against us,” Martha added. “You’ll see when you and our handsome Pastor Luke walk down the aisle.”

Winnie wanted to groan, she wanted to moan
balefully to the sky and beat her head against the side of a barn. But, what good would it do? She was stuck in Independence with no place else to go, no money, and no prospects. Except the one she was there to marry in the first place, and he didn’t have a clue. “And why must I know these things?”

“Because some of them might not like the fact you’re in town,” Maude stated
in an ominous tone.

“What? Why not?”