Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set (65 page)

Adam didn’t want to upset his mother, but he was going to keep his daughter with him.

“We’ll fix this place,” he assured her. “And, it’s only for the winter. Come spring, I’ll build us a new house. With sawmill planks and a roof that’s not covered with sod. Hannah will do fine until then.”

He glanced over to Eleanor and was surprised at the look of sympathy on her face.

“Here.” She gathered her yarn and stood, gesturing for his mother to sit on the stool. “Mrs. Martin, please, sit here for a spell and I’ll get supper on the table.”

His mother nodded and walked over to the stool, sinking down on it as if she had more trouble than her heart could bear. Adam figured that’s about how she felt, but he didn’t risk asking her if everything was all right. He knew the list of things lacking in him and his home was long, and she’d name every one of them if he let her.

“I hope you’re not planning to build another two-story house,” his mother finally said, her voice clipped and her mouth firm. She was talking to him, but staring at Eleanor who had made her way over to the cook stove.

“No.” He swallowed, and then managed to walk to the door. “It won’t be that kind of a house. Not again.”

He kept his back straight. His mother never hesitated to attack where he was most vulnerable. He was known for strategy when it came to leading troops into battle, but he had never found the way of anticipating her words. And she was right. He should have been able to muster a better plan for providing for his new wife.

The sting of icy air hit his face as he opened the door. When he married Eleanor, he would be pledging to care for and protect her. He didn’t take that vow lightly. The gray sky had almost disappeared in the whiteness of the blizzard that was swirling around. Women, wives in particular, were such delicate creatures.

He needed to get the horses settled in the shelter for the night and then brush off the roof. The snow was wet and falling heavy by the time he got to the wagon. The contents that were still packed would be fine if he pulled the canvas tight over them and moved the wagon so it was sheltered by the cabin.

He did that and then fought the wind as he unhitched the horses, all of which left his mind free to remember things he’d sooner forget. He’d already failed to protect one wife. He remembered the house fire had come up while he had been out on patrol almost a year ago. Catherine had wanted to live away from the fort so there was only one neighbor, a frail man, who was around to come to their rescue. The flames had already touched Catherine and their daughter when his panicked wife managed to toss Hannah out of their upstairs window, no doubt hoping the girl would fall into the arms of the neighbor who stood below calling out to them. The old man was not strong enough to catch her right, though, and his daughter injured the same leg that had been scorched in the blaze.

In all the terror of that, his wife became increasingly agitated and finally refused to jump, saying she was too afraid. Adam lived with the knowledge that, if he’d been there, he would have saved them both. A sergeant’s first duty was to the ones under his care and he’d failed to be there when they needed him the most.

He’d given up asking God to forgive him. It was his fault his wife died; he deserved any suffering he had. She had hated military life and had begged him to let
her father set him up with a desk job in Washington. She complained that life was too difficult in the West and she wanted the parties she used to attend in the capital. He told her he’d be stifled behind a desk. She refused to hear his reasons, retreating into the vapid conversation that had characterized their courtship, and eventually he hadn’t known what to do but agree to ask her father. He was too late, though. If he had heeded her desires when she first voiced them, she would be alive today.

He shoved his memories aside. Even if he hadn’t given up the army for Catherine, he had no choice but to do so for Hannah. Now that his daughter had been scarred and crippled, she was even more delicate than his wife had been. She needed him and he did not intend to be absent again.

After he settled the horses into the shelter and gave them some of the hay that was stacked along one wall, he took a shovel outside and scraped the sides of the roof. The movement was enough to make the snow tumble down to the ground.

He’d taken off his gloves before feeding the horses and his hands were red and damp after moving the snow so he quickly walked back to get them before returning to the wagon. He uncovered a saddle bag from the back, rummaging through it to find the utensils he’d used at the fort. He’d always considered himself well supplied because he had two tin spoons for eating and the same number of cups for coffee.

The wind was loud and strong as he put the utensils inside his coat and fought his way back to the cabin.
He opened the door and then closed it, only to have the noise stilled once he was inside. The place was stronger than he’d thought since it didn’t rattle.

“The drip stopped,” Eleanor informed him when he walked through the door.

“Good.”

He brought the cups and spoons out from inside his coat and set them down on the split-log table in the cabin. It was clear they weren’t enough. The trapper hadn’t left anything that could be used for eating. Eleanor had a bent spoon and a chipped china plate that she credited her employer with giving her on some Christmas years ago.

“We’ll have to share,” Adam said, too tired to make it sound any better than it was.

Fortunately, his mother didn’t protest. She was sitting on one of Hannah’s trunks and his daughter was seated on the stool.

Eleanor took the cast-iron skillet over to the table and served his mother on the plate before giving Hannah a cup of beans.

Then Eleanor silently filled the other cup and held it out to him.

It was a simple gesture, but it brought a lump to his throat. He had always been the one to do for Catherine. Neither of them had expected her to sacrifice more for him than she had when she married him.

“You eat,” he said to Eleanor with a shake of his head. “I should get some more wood before it gets too dark, anyway.”

She looked at him for a long moment, and then
nodded. She gingerly sat down on the other half of the trunk that held his mother. The flame in the fireplace gave a golden light to the room and he noticed she’d pulled her bright hair back into a tidy bun. He rather missed the abundance of her hair when it was loose.

“I’ll bring the buffalo robe inside,” he said as he stood beside the table. Having announced he’d get the wood, he found himself reluctant to leave. “I’ll bed down with the horses tonight. There’s some hay in the corner of the shelter.”

“I figured your mother and Hannah could share the bed,” Eleanor said with a glance at the other woman. “I don’t mind sleeping out here by the fire.”

“That’s kind of you,” his mother said with a congenial nod, and then spoiled it by adding, “Hannah isn’t used to sharing a room with strangers.”

“Eleanor’s not a stranger, Mother,” Adam said, and then to reinforce his words he turned to Eleanor. “We’ll ask to see the reverend tomorrow when we go into Miles City.”

Adam was surprised to see a pink blush cover the woman’s face. She suddenly looked very young so he added, “If that’s all right with you?”

He was bungling things already. Maybe he was supposed to formally ask for her hand in marriage again. He should have paid more attention when his mother talked about these arrangements.

Eleanor seemed uncertain for a moment and then stiffened. “Yes. Tomorrow is fine.”

Her green eyes filled with resolve until she looked as if she was facing a firing squad without the benefit
of a blindfold. Her back was rigid and her shoulders square.

“We could wait a few days,” he offered. “As long as my mother is here, it’s proper.”

That would give him time to buy her some candy or take her for a walk in the moonlight. Except that it was freezing outside and all the mercantile in Miles City had was licorice and penny candy. A woman like Eleanor deserved a tin of those fancy chocolates that came over by ship from France. They had to be brought overland to the territories from Seattle, though, and not many tins made it through.

“I’d just as soon do it quick,” Eleanor said, looking straight ahead and not meeting his eyes. “The getting married part, that is.”

He heard his mother shift on the trunk. “Goodness. There’s no need to rush anything. Why, you’ve only just met each other.” Then she turned to look at his future wife. “I could always pay your way home, dear. I’m sure Mrs. Stout would take you back, even with the nephew there. She spoke so highly of you in her letters.”

“Mother—” he warned.

He suddenly noticed his daughter was on the verge of tears.

“But Hannah—” the woman managed to say with a glance at his daughter. She must have seen the look on his daughter’s face, too.

“Don’t worry. Hannah can just come back with me,” his mother said, looking at him defiantly. “We can’t have her raised by this sheep woman. With me,
she will learn to be a lady. We need to just forget all this marriage nonsense and go back to the way it was.”

“It’s not your decision,” Adam said more harshly than he intended. He realized in some surprise that it wasn’t just for Hannah. He didn’t want the woman to go back, either.

Then a quiet sob escaped his daughter.

Eleanor reached a hand across the table and covered Hannah’s small one with her own. The woman and his daughter looked at each other and smiled.

“Tomorrow will be fine for the wedding,” Eleanor finally said quietly.

“Good.” He nodded even though he realized what he’d seen. The woman was staying for his daughter’s sake. He told himself it was for the best, that this is what he had wanted. There was no reason for him to feel disappointed.

Suddenly, he wished he had met this fine woman years ago when he could have courted her properly. He used to have a reputation for being a smooth dancer and witty enough to be sought after in society. Of course, that was before he’d joined the army. And gotten married and become a widower. So much had happened since then, he wasn’t sure he remembered how to be charming anymore.

“I should go get that buffalo robe,” he said finally, turning to leave.

“If you bring in the wood, I’ll see that the fire keeps going all night,” Eleanor offered as she looked up at him. “You’ll be warm enough if you bed down on the back side of the fireplace.”

He nodded as he walked to the door. The sooner everyone went to bed, the earlier they would get up in the morning and make their way into Miles City. He’d need to unload the wagon so they’d have room to bring back all of the supplies they needed.

Suddenly, he wondered if they had any silk ribbons at the mercantile he could buy for Eleanor’s hair. He’d like long ones so she could tie it back loosely enough so the curls would be free. He didn’t want to see any part of her restrained.

Chapter Three

I
n the darkness, Eleanor stood by the fireplace and pulled the army blanket closer around her shoulders. Even though the sound of the wind outside had disappeared, it was still chilly. Everyone had gone to bed and the fire had died down. She had risen to add more wood, and then watched the embers flare up as the blaze took hold again. The truth was she hadn’t been able to sleep.

Every time she had closed her eyes, she remembered that tomorrow was going to be her wedding day. She’d had months to get used to the idea, but it seemed a lot more difficult than she had thought it was going to be when she was talking to Mrs. Stout about the comforts of being married as they sat at the worktable back in Nantucket and planned her future.

Frankly, nothing her employer had said to her in those conversations prepared her for marrying a man like the sergeant. No, Adam—he said to call him Adam—she reminded herself as she reached up and
brushed the hair away from her face. She could do that, she reassured herself. Adam. That was simple enough.

He was nothing like the men she’d known back home.

The buffalo robe lay on the floor and she told herself she should lie back down and try to sleep. Couples got married every day of the week and, while not all of those unions were based on love, people managed to have quiet, contented lives. The kind of life she’d had with her father as they cared for the sheep. The kind of life she had expected when Mrs. Stout first told her about Adam.

Maybe that was the problem, she told herself as she looked into the flames. Somehow she didn’t think a marriage with Adam would be as steady as she had imagined. He certainly didn’t like sheep and that was one mark against him. And he was too handsome by half. She couldn’t figure out why he was settling for a bride he didn’t know when he could just walk down the street of the nearest town and find a woman who’d beg to be his wife.

That’s what he should have done. At least, Adam and whoever he chose would get to talk to each other before deciding to spend their lives together. Not that she liked that idea so much, either, once she’d thought of it.

Just then she heard a slight sound and looked up to see Mrs. Martin come out of the back room with her thick shawl clutched tight over her linen shift and her hair carefully tucked under a white sleeping cap. She
wore stockings on her feet and the night shadows on her face hid her expression.

Eleanor could imagine how she felt, though. “It’s a big day tomorrow. I guess we all have problems going to sleep.”

“Hannah snuck that cat into the room and it climbed up on the bed with us,” Mrs. Martin said accusingly.

“It’s only a kitten.”

The other woman didn’t answer. Eleanor was almost going to offer to boil some hot water for them both. She didn’t have tea, but she’d brought some dried rose hips with her that she could add to the water to make it more soothing. After all, this woman was Adam’s mother and Hannah’s grandmother. Eleanor needed to make an effort to get along with her for their sakes.

The older woman stood still, and then straightened herself as if she had something to say, clearing her throat and paused for a moment before beginning. “I’m prepared to pay your train fare back to the East Coast,” Mrs. Martin finally said in even tones that suggested she’d practiced the words enough in her mind that they seemed reasonable.