Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Weaver (9 page)

She grabbed at empty air, unable to see it, until he put it in her hand. She immediately blew her nose with it, then promptly sneezed some more.

“Great jumpin’ horny toads!” Daniel exclaimed. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this!”

“You’re not helping,” she groaned, and blew her nose again.

Daniel, unsure of what else to do, began to chuckle. “I’m sorry, sweetie, it’s just that I ain’t never seen someone sneeze so much.”

“Well, I have, just about every day of my life!”

Daniel laughed. “I still don’t believe it.”

“You have eyes, don’t you?” She pointed at herself, sniffled, sneezed again.

“Ain’t there no way to make it stop?” he asked helplessly.

“If there was, do you think I’d be standing here like this?!” she asked tersely.

“No need to bite my head off. I was just askin’.”

“Your mother …
achoo, achoo
… gave me something yesterday …
sniff
… it seemed to help.”

Daniel nodded, pulled her against him, then picked her up.

“What are you doing?” she screeched.

“Gettin’ ya back to the house as fast as I can ‘fore ya plumb sneeze yerself to death!”

“I’m not going to sneeze myself to death!” The only reason she knew that was that if it were possible, she’d have been dead a long time ago. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said firmly. “Yer eyes are so full of tears ya can’t see straight anyways. Yer liable to walk right into a tree and knock yerself out.”

She couldn’t even answer – the sneezes were coming thick and fast now.

“Land sakes, darlin’, don’t die on me! We ain’t even married yet!”

“No one is …
achoo
… dying!” she whined. Though the thought did have merit – at least she wouldn’t be sneezing anymore.

Daniel picked up the pace. “Don’t ya worry none, sweetie. As soon as we get back to the house I’ll have Ma fix ya up. She can fix anythin’.”

“I’m glad you hab such codfidence id your mother’s abilities,” she said, her nose so stuffed now she could barely breathe, let alone talk.

“She helped ya yesterday, didn’t she?” he asked as they reached the barnyard.

“Yes,” she croaked. Great. There went her voice again.

Just then Ma ran out the back door and headed straight for them. “Good Lord, what happened? Did she fall and break her leg?”

Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!

“Oh,” Ma said. “That again, is it?”

Ebba watched Ma study her through bleary eyes. “I thigk it’s the orchards,” she suggested

“Bring her inside, Daniel,” Ma instructed. “Plop her down in the kitchen and I’ll take care of the rest. Then you can get back to work.”

“Sure thing Ma.” He headed up the back steps, carried Ebba through the open kitchen door and straight to the table where he set her on her feet next to it. “Ma’ll set ya straight, ya’ll see.” Then to her surprise, he tenderly brushed the hair out of her eyes and wiped at the tears around them. “I feel powerful sorry for ya right now, darlin’. I wish there was somethin’ else I could do.”

Ebba could only shake her head, not sure if her voice would even work. She tried to smile, but sneezed instead.

His eyes filled with determination, and he pulled her into his arms for a hug. “I gotta get back to work, sweetie. But I know that by the time I see ya again ya’ll be right as rain.” He kissed her hair, and between that and her stuffy nose, it was all she could do to remain standing.

D
aniel stomped back to work
. Maybe if he picked up his pace, the tight feeling in his chest would lessen and he’d be able to breathe better. Fear had a way of sucking the wind out of him, and he wasn’t as accustomed to fighting it as his brothers were. They were experienced in protecting their women from harm. But how was he going to protect his from this? It was one thing to battle an outlaw, or some bungling intruder that managed to get into the house, or even a jealous rival. But sickness and disease were another thing altogether.

Maybe he was just overreacting. But it didn’t feel like it.

Ebba was sneezing something awful and could hardly see for the tears in her eyes. Had she been crying because she was in pain? Was her ailment really that bad? Or did she just not do well around apple trees? He knew Warren Johnson would start to sneeze come springtime – it would last for a few weeks, then clear up and go away. Was that what Ebba suffered? But her sneezing was much worse than Warren’s.

He certainly hoped Ma could fix her. He didn’t like the idea of Ebba sneezing her way through their wedding vows.

“What was the ruckus up at the house?” Benjamin asked as he brought their plow horse Myrtle to a stop and wiped his brow.

“Poor Ebba,” Daniel said with a shake of his head. “She ain’t feelin’ well right now. I hate to say this, Benjamin, but I don’t think the trees here are good for her.”

“The trees?” Benjamin said in surprise. “What do trees have to do with anythin’?”

“Everythin’, if I figger right. She sneezes like Warren Johnson does when the orchards start in to blossomin’.”

“Oh, that,” Benjamin said with a wave of his hand. “That ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout. Ma can give her something that’ll help. I’d be more worried about the weddin’ if I were ya.”

“Yeah, I suppose yer right. But I cain’t help but worry ‘bout her. Ya shoulda seen her! She sneezed and sneezed and sneezed and couldn’t stop. Land sakes, I thought she was gonna sneeze her whole head off.”

Benjamin started to chuckle, then stopped. “I know it ain’t funny, poor thing, but I cain’t help but picture that in my head.”

“Fine, go ahead and laugh. You’re not the one’s gonna be marryin’ her in a couple days.”

“Don’t go takin’ offense, little brother. I was just kiddin’ with ya.”

“It ain’t funny. What if she’s powerful sick or somethin’?”

“Don’t get sore – I told ya I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Besides, she’ll be fine. Ya plumb worry like a mother hen.”

Daniel patted Myrtle’s neck and scratched her between the ears. “It ain’t just her sneezin’.”

“What do ya mean?” Benjamin asked.

“Folks in town were lookin’ at her funny-like. I didn’t pay too much attention to it ‘til she asked if they were the unfriendly type.”

“Folks in Nowhere?” Benjamin said, a little shocked. “That
is
odd.”

“I thought she was just bein’, ya know, oversensitive, her bein’ new in town and all. But then I got to lookin’ around when I walked her back to the hotel, and by golly if they weren’t looking at her funny. Like they didn’t want her there at all.”

“Strange.” Benjamin scratched his head. “Did Ma notice?”

“If’n she did, she’s not sayin’ nothin’. She won’t want to upset Ebba.”

“Yer right,” Benjamin agreed. “Well, yer not in town now, are ya?”

“No, but the town’s comin’ here soon. What if folks look at her all strange durin’ our weddin’? How’s that gonna make Ebba feel?”

“Personally, I wouldn’t worry about it ‘til the time comes. I wager folks’ll wanna talk to Ebba and get to know her. ‘Fore the day’s out, half of ‘em will’ve invited the two of ya to Sunday supper. Best get them funny thoughts out of yer head.”

“Oh, all right.” Daniel gave Myrtle one last pat on the neck. “Ya want me to take over for a while?”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’d like to get up to the house and check on Sebastian. He’s been sneezin’ too.”

“Guess it’s just in the air.” Daniel positioned himself behind the plow, unwrapped the lines and, with a whistle and a slap, got Myrtle moving.

“
I
s
this the same thing you gave me back in town?” Ebba asked.

“No, this is a little different,” Ma said. “On account of I don’t keep alcohol in this house.”

“Alcohol?” Ebba said in shock. “You mean that concoction I drank the other night was … was …”

“One of the ingredients was whiskey,” Ma explained. “I bet you slept like a baby too.”

“You gave me whiskey?” Ebba said between coughs.

“Only because they didn’t have any brandy. That works best for a scratchy throat.”

“Dear me. What else was in that stuff you made me drink?”

“I didn’t make you drink it. I offered it to you and you drank it yourself.”

“That’s because you didn’t tell me what it was. If I had known there was whiskey in it, I probably wouldn’t have drunk it at all.”

“And go on suffering with all that sneezing? Somehow I think you’d have drunk it down anyway, child. But we can argue about that another time. It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ebba said with a sigh. “It did.”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on that. The problem now is trying to make something that will work as well without the liquor in it.” Ma sat at the kitchen table and began drumming her fingers on the surface. “We could try some apple cider …”

“Apple cider?”

“Yes, it works wonders.” Ma clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “At least, it’ll make you feel better. Not sure what it’ll do for your sneezing.”

Ebba wiped her nose with a handkerchief. “I’ll try anything, especially if it doesn’t involve alcohol. Do you realize that’s the first alcohol I’ve ever had in my life?”

“I’m not sure it counts, being as how it was medicinal,” Ma said with a grin.

Ebba closed her eyes and shook her head as if she just lost a horrible battle.

“Now don’t go giving me that sort of look,” said Ma. “Folks around here have a little nip when they’re cold or not feeling well. Besides, in the Good Book Saint Paul told Timothy to have a little wine for his ailments, and Saint Paul was smarter than you or me, I figure. It’s not like we’re all down at the saloon guzzling the stuff!”

Ebba opened her eyes and looked at her. “I know you didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that I … I’ve seen what liquor can do to a man, not to mention a woman.”

Ma’s grin vanished. “What are you talking about, child?”

Ebba, who’d been standing near the table all this time, sat. “We had neighbors when we lived in Chicago for a short time, a husband and wife. They drank every night, then fought like two devils trying to kill each other. The drunker they got, the worse they fought. I think that’s one of the reasons we moved to Denver, that and my parents’ health.”

“Why, that’s terrible!” Ma said. “No wonder you don’t want to have anything to do with whiskey. But don’t you worry none, child. None of my boys touch it, except as medicine.”

Ebba smiled. “That’s good to know.” The teakettle began to whistle, and she got up, took a hot pad and plucked it off the stove. She went to the teapot and began to fill it with the hot water.

“Oh, Ebba,” Ma said.

Ebba stopped pouring and looked at her. “Yes?”

“Have you noticed you haven’t sneezed since you’ve been in the house?”

Ebba glanced between the teakettle and Ma. “By Heaven, you’re right, I haven’t. I wonder why that is?”

“I think some of it might have to do with my heating water in here for dishes earlier. Takes some of the dryness out of the air. The teakettle does the same. It helps your nose.”

Ebba put the lid on the teapot to let it steep then returned the kettle to the stove. “Maybe I should let the water boil some more.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try. You know, when my boys were young and would get to coughing come wintertime, I noticed water boiling on the stove seemed to help them. They wouldn’t cough as much when they were here in the kitchen.”

“Isn’t it amazing how the air affects us?” Ebba said. Perhaps it was a silly thing to say, but she did notice the difference.

“Are you excited about your wedding?” Ma asked, changing the subject.

“I’m getting there. I just don’t want to make a fool of myself once Daniel and I are standing in front of the preacher. I’d hate to start sneezing.”

“I’ll see what I can do about fixing you something to help. Maybe what we’re doing now, you can do before you say your vows. Have yourself a nice cup of tea, then put some water on the stove and get some steam in the air.”

“Won’t that be hard to do with a house full of people?”

“It’s your wedding, child,” Ma replied. “You do what you want.”

After Ebba and Ma finished their tea, they went into the sewing room. “There now,” Ma said. “Doesn’t that look nice?”

Ebba studied her wedding dress hanging on the back of the door. “It looks prettier now than when Mrs. Pettigrew gave it to me,” she said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. But it was nothing an iron couldn’t handle.”

“You did a wonderful job, Ma. Thank you.”

“It was nothing. You’d have done the same for me.”

Ebba sighed as she admired her gown. She hadn’t even tried it on yet – there hadn’t been time before she left Denver. “I hope it fits.”

“What do you mean, you hope it fits?”

“Mrs. Pettigrew guessed at my size.”

“Then don’t just stand there gawking at it, child. Let’s try it on.” Ma took the dress off its hanger and shook it out a little. “I’m sure it’ll fit – I don’t see why it wouldn’t. But something like this should never be left to chance, child. If it needs to be taken in or out, I’ll be able to get it done overnight.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t let you do that. It’s my dress, so my responsibility.”

“If that were the case, then
you
should have ironed it,” Ma said with a wink.

Ebba looked away a moment. “You’re right. I should’ve been the one to do the work. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for it, child. I didn’t mind doing the ironing. It’s a beautiful dress – it was a privilege.”

Ebba thought about that for a moment and came to a realization. “Sewing is a passion for you, isn’t it?

“It certainly is,” Ma said with a dreamy look. “I’ve sewn since I was a little girl, anything I could get my hands on. I liked to experiment.”

Ebba looked around the room and noticed the elaborate display of ribbons, threads, fabric, feathers, jars of buttons and other sewing paraphernalia. “This must be your haven.”

“It is. Every woman needs one. Bella, she goes down and sits on a log by the creek.”

Ebba smiled. “She does?”

“Oh yes. And Charity likes to take a book and go read in the hayloft. I play with Sebastian and Truly while she has a break.”

“And what about Samijo? What does she do?”

“Her haven is her children. That and baking.” Ma handed the dress to Ebba. “All right, put it on and let’s see what we’re looking at.”

Ebba stepped behind a dressing screen, took off her dress and put the other one on. Soon she had everything where it was supposed to be and stepped out for inspection. “Well, what do you think?”

Ma walked around her and played with the skirt here and there. “Hmmm … let’s button you up to be sure, but I think Mrs. Pettigrew guessed right.”

Ebba smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was for Ma to be up half the night taking in her wedding dress. By the same token, she didn’t want to be up half the night doing it either.

Ma did up the buttons and walked a circle a second time. “My my, will you look at that. It’s beautiful, Ebba, simply beautiful.”

Ebba spied a full-length mirror, went to stand before it and gasped when she saw her reflection. “I’ve never seen myself like this before. I look like a princess.”

“Daniel is going to bust a gut when he sees you,” Ma said.

“As long as he doesn’t bust anything else,” Ebba said with a laugh.

“Let’s hope not,” Ma said. “Then again, maybe the sight of you will keep him from being so nervous. Calvin and Benjamin were beside themselves when they got married.”

“I’m sure I’ll be nervous too,” Ebba admitted.

“All brides are nervous on their wedding day. But don’t you worry none – you and Daniel will be good together. I can tell already.”

Ebba turned to face her. “How can you tell? Daniel and I don’t even know each other yet. We’re each marrying a perfect stranger.”

“So did Arlan, Benjamin and Calvin. All three of my boys got mail-order brides. Now Daniel makes four.”

“But how did they manage it? Are they all in love?”

“Of course they are,” Ma said. “They’re all happily married men thanks to one thing.”

“Only one?” asked Ebba. “I thought it took a good many things to make a marriage work.”

“True enough, child. But this is a philosophy I learned with my own husband when he was alive. We passed it on to our children when they were young to make sure they stood by it when they were old enough to marry.”

“What is it?” Ebba had forgotten about her beautiful dress now, her eyes intense on Ma.

“That you have three things in your pocket before you get married, or at least be mindful of them as they grow during the marriage. Sometimes it takes time to get all three, and that’s okay. But to make a marriage really work, you need them all.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense – what are they?”

“All right, I’ll tell you.” Ma held up a finger. “Number one, you have to like your husband.”

Ebba blinked a few times. “I have that in my pocket already. I like Daniel. From what I know of him, I think he’s sweet, kind and he looks out for you. He carried me across the orchard just because I was sneezing.”

“Yes, he sure enough did,” Ma said with a laugh, then held up another finger. “Number two, you have to love him.”

“It’s too early for that, I’m afraid,” Ebba said with a hint of disappointment. She’d only known the man for a few days; there was no way she could love him yet.

“You’ll come to love Daniel in time, just as he’ll come to love you,” Ma said. “I’m sure of it. Which brings me to number three.” She held up the last finger.

“What?”