Mail Order Match Maker (5 page)

Max smiled down at her, taking her hand and helping her to her feet.  “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.
  His eyes searched her face through the pale pink veil covering it.

She smiled up at him.  “You don’t mind that I didn’t want to wear white?”

He brought her fingers to his lips before leaning down to pick up her carpet bag.  “Not at all.”  His voice dropped to a whisper right beside her ear.  “I’d have been happiest if you’d worn nothing at all, but that would have shocked our guests.”

Harriett blushed as she followed him out to the buggy, surprised that he’d said something so bold to her before the wedding.  If he was this bold now, what would he be like once they were married?

On the drive to the church, she asked him about the ceremony, which she’d had nothing to do with planning.  “You know, I’m not sure.  My sister handled it.  I told her we wanted a morning wedding and the church should look pretty.”

Harriett stared at him in amazement.  “How many guests will be there?”
  Did he have any clue what was going to happen at their wedding?

He shrugged.  “Probably a lot, but I really didn’t ask her.”

She let out a short bark of laughter.  Arthur had been very particular about what he’d wanted from their wedding and everything else they’d done in the year they were married.  He’d chosen her clothes for her and chosen what hairstyle he wanted her to wear.  He’d even chosen who she could have stand up with her at the wedding, and she’d accepted it all as normal.

When they got to the church, he helped her down and with a quick shake of his head
when he saw Higgins waiting for her, went to the front of the church while she remained at the back with Higgins.  She knew he didn’t understand her closeness with the man who had been her butler for the past ten years, and she really wasn’t willing to explain it all.  Eventually he’d have to know the whole story, she knew, but for right now, he needed to accept that she needed some things a certain way.

Higgins looked down at her as the music started to play.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”
  His eyes looked worried as they searched hers.

Harriett nodded slowly.  “I care for him, and I want children.”  She put her hand on his upper arm to reassure him.  “He’s a good man, Higgins.”
  She wasn’t sure if she was reminding him or herself as her heart pounded, trying to jump out of her chest.

He nodded warily.  “I certainly hope so.  I’ll be around if he isn’t.”

“Thank you.”  Harriett had relied on Higgins for so long, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.  He had become a second father to her, and she loved him as such.  She only hoped she could make the adjustment from leaning on her butler to leaning on her husband.

Slowly,
she walked down the aisle of the crowded church, clutching Higgins arm a little too tightly through his suit jacket.  Once they reached Max, they stopped, and she waited as Higgins put her hand in Max’s.  When the preacher asked who gave the woman in marriage, Higgins hesitated for a moment before answering, “Apparently, I do.”  His voice was gruff and emotional as he said the words, and Harriett saw a tear in the corner of his eye.  She smiled at him reassuringly before turning her attention back to Maxwell.

There was laughter from the group gathered for the occasion as he took his seat in the front row.  Max looked down at her for a
moment with his eyebrow raised but her eyes were dancing with amusement and emotion, as she squeezed his hand in hers. 

The vows were simple and the ceremony was short.  Twenty minutes later, the preacher pronounced them man and wife and they were introduced to the congregation as Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell Farmer. 
They turned to face everyone, and Harriett realized for the first time just how many people had come out for her wedding to Max.  The church was standing room only, and there was very little room to stand.  She took a deep breath, trying to calm her raging heart.  She told herself it was Max over and over in her head, having to remind herself that this wasn’t a man who would mistreat her.

For a moment when she heard her new name, Harriett felt overwhelmed with panic.  What if he was just like Arthur?  What if Higgins wasn’t there to save her this time?

Higgins met her eyes and slowly his lips turned up in a smile, as if to say he knew what she was thinking and it would all be okay.  She breathed deeply a few times, and rested her head for a moment against Max’s shoulder.  He was a good man, she told herself for the fiftieth time since she’d arrived in Seattle.  Everything was going to be fine, because he was a good man.

They walked to the back of the church and she was introduced to more people than she could count.  At the very end of the line, she met his sister, Mary.  Harriett accepted the other woman’s embrace and thanked her for taking care of the wedding
plans.  “I don’t know how I could have done it without your help,” she told her with a smile, kissing the older woman’s cheek.

Mary, a rotund woman with red cheeks and a booming laugh, just smiled at her.  “You’d have gotten married at a justice of the peace and been done with it.”
  She squeezed Harriett’s hands, obviously thrilled to have a sister-in-law.  “I was thrilled to be able to help.”

Harriett nodded.  “I’m sure I would have.” 
She was amazed at how quickly and easily the other woman accepted her.  She could tell this was going to be easy for her.

“I’ve planned a small wedding lunch at my house.  Just you and Max, Fred, and the girls and me.”
  Mary didn’t ask if they wanted to attend.  It was obvious that when she made plans, she was used to the people around her falling in line and doing what they were told.

“Is Fred your husband?”
  Max hadn’t mentioned Mary’s husband’s name when he mentioned coming to Seattle with them.

Mary nodded.  “Yes, poor Fred is the father of eight girls who he has no idea what to do with.”
  Mary’s voice sounded filled with love as she spoke of her large family.

Harriett laughed softly.  “I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually.”  She walked with Max toward his buggy. 

“We’ll follow you over, Mary.”  Max helped her into the buggy and climbed up beside her.  In Harriett’s ear he whispered, “I didn’t know about the wedding lunch.  I was hoping to take you home and have a private lunch.”  He sounded extremely put out that he was going to have to go spend more time around people when all he really wanted was to be alone with his wife.

Harriett blushed, knowing he had more on his mind than just a meal.  She leaned her head against his shoulder and sat quietly beside him.  She was looking forward to marital relations with Max, but she was happy for the reprieve as well.  No matter how much she cared for him, there was still that small amount of fear in the back of her mind that he would hurt her. 

Max stopped the buggy in front of a large two story home made entirely of wood.  He helped her down and slipped his arm around her waist as he walked toward the front door.  “I certainly hope they don’t expect us to stay all day,” he told her.  He frowned at the door in front of him, as if it was the house that was keeping them from being alone together on their wedding day.

Harriett smiled up at him, brushing a kiss against his clean shaven cheek.  “It won’t be forever, and then we can go home and be alone.”
  She couldn’t believe that part of her was truly looking forward to being alone with her husband.  She really did feel good about Max.

“I can’t wait.”  He said nothing else as Fred opened the door for them, and they stepped into the huge house. 

Harriett was surprised by all the noise going on around her.  She felt as if she’d stepped into chaos by going into the house.  There seemed to be girls everywhere.  She didn’t recognize any of the girls as having been at the wedding.  There was a girl in spectacles lying on the floor in the parlor that was off to the right of the entryway with her nose stuck in a book.  Another girl had tied her skirts at her waist and was obviously wearing pants underneath the skirt.  She was running through the house at breakneck speed, whooping like an Indian.  Another girl was sitting on the sofa looking into a hand mirror, making strange faces.  What kind of family had she married into?

Max just shook his head.  “Don’t worry, insanity doesn’t run in the family.”
  His lips were quirked at the corners, as if to tell her all was as normal as things got there.

At the sound of his voice, the girl on the floor reading jumped up and squealed, running into his arms.  “Uncle Max!”
  She left her book lying open on the floor, and Harriett wanted to run and move it out of the way in case the whooping Indian girl were to trip over it.

He ruffled her hair.
  “This is my favorite niece, Amaryllis,” he told Harriett with a grin.

From the other room the girl making the faces in the mirror called out, “Last week you said I was your favorite, Uncle Max!”  She frowned into the mirror and immediately changed her face to a smile.

“Haven’t you figured out yet that you’re all my favorites, Rose?”  Max smiled over at the girl on the sofa.

Rose walked over and eyed Harriett.  “Are you our new aunt?”
  She looked Harriett up and down as if trying to decide if she was good enough to be her aunt.

Harriett nodded.  She hadn’t considered that she was becoming an instant aunt to eight girls.  “I guess I am.”
She returned Rose’s inspection of her with a smile.

Rose
studied her for another moment before finally seeming to decide she’d do.  “What should we call you?”

Harriett had rarely been around children but desperately wanted some of her own.  She shrugged, unsure how to answer that question.
  The few children she’d known had simply called her, “Mrs. Long,” but that wasn’t her name any longer.

Max rescued her by saying, “Aunt Harriett will do fine.”

Rose nodded.  “I’m the oldest.  We’re all flowers.” 

Harriett wasn’t sure what that meant so she nodded.  “I like flowers.”  What else could she say?

Amaryllis sighed.  “What Rose means is we all have flower names.  She’s never very precise in what she says.  I think precision of speech is very important, don’t you, Aunt Harriett?”   Amaryllis enunciated each word carefully as if fearful someone would misunderstand her otherwise.

“Umm, of course.”  Harriett wasn’t sure why she was having this conversation, but she went with it.

“I’m Rose and I’m sixteen.  I’m the oldest.”  She indicated the girl with the pants on under her skirt.  “That’s Lily.  She’s fourteen and ought to have outgrown wearing pants by now.”

“Fourteen and a half!” yelled Lily as she continued to run through the house
,dodging the people around her.

“I’m thirteen,” Amaryllis told her.

Harriett found herself hoping she wouldn’t be quizzed on this later, because she knew it would take her at least a month to get all their names straight.  She couldn’t even think of any of them as “the girl with the flower name” because they all had flower names.

Amaryllis pointed to a young girl Harriett hadn’t noticed until that moment who was standing in the corner of the parlor, absolutely quiet.  “That’s Daisy.  She’s eleven and a half.”

Harriett felt a special affinity toward the quiet girl, but had no idea why.  She held up her hand to wave.  “Hi Daisy.”

Daisy just lifted a hand slightly in what could pass for a wave if someone was feeling very imaginative.  She said nothing.

Behind Daisy stood a little girl, who gave a quick tug on Daisy’s braid before running off, obviously hoping her sister would chase her. 

Harriett felt her smile growing as she watched how the girls interacted with each other.
  A sixth girl who Harriett hadn’t yet seen walked through the room, staring at the ceiling, not even seeming to notice there was someone new there.  She walked right on through without stopping and immediately tripped over the book Amaryllis had left in the middle of the floor.

“Ouch!”  The girl on the floor looked around for whatever had caused her fall.

Harriett looked to Amaryllis.  “Oh, that was just Hyacinth.  She’s eight and a half,” Amaryllis told her.

Hyacinth picked up the book and glared at Amaryllis, obviously knowing who had left the offending object to be tripped over.

Harriett mentally counted the girls she’d met so far.  There were two more.  “Where are the others?” she asked.

“Violet’s up in her room painting.  She’s seven.”  Amaryllis looked around.  “Iris found a hurt squirrel earlier.  I think she’s trying to fix his leg.”  She shrugged.  “She’s always trying to heal some animal or other.”

“How old is Iris?” Harriett asked.

“She’s five and a half.”

Harriett shook her head.  “I may have to have one of you write down all the names and ages so I can keep you straight.”  She hoped to God no one would quiz her, because now that she’d heard all the names, she knew she’d never keep them all straight.