The Mail Order Bride's Deception (4 page)

He suspected her parents hadn’t been pleased to learn of her decision, and now that he saw how beautiful she was, she definitely could have done much better than him.  But maybe she came here because it was the first time she had a choice.  He’d heard that some women weren’t given the freedom to do things they wanted to.  Perhaps she’d been one of them.

Well, if that was the case, he wanted to make sure she understood that her needs were as important to him as his own.  “Hazel,” he began as he opened the first box, “I want you to know that you can do whatever you want around here.  This is as much your home as it is mine, and you’re my wife, not my servant.  I want you to be happy here.”

She smiled.  “You’re a good man, aren’t you?”

That was a curious question, but it gave him some insight into what her life had been like.  And that being the case, he got the impression that she hadn’t been sad to leave her family.  Deciding not to voice his observation, he left the box and closed the distance between them.  He cupped her face in his han
ds and tilted her head up so her gaze met his.

Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth turned down slightly in apprehension, as if she didn’t know what to do.

Well, in time she would come to understand he meant what he said.  In the meantime, he would show her.  He brushed his thumb along her lips.  “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

She swallowed and offered a hesitant nod.

Closing his eyes, he lowered his head and kissed her.  Given his limited experience with women, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect, and she probably found him lacking because of that but he enjoyed it more than anything else he’d ever done.  It was much better than the kiss they’d shared after their vows.  Reluctantly, he ended it.

Al
let out a slight chuckle.  “You’ve probably had better kisses than that from your suitors back in Atlanta.” The men there were probably a lot more charming, too.

Before she could respond, he turned his attention back to the boxes.  “I better put these things away so we can get started on supper.  Gilbert will want to eat before long, too.  They say a woman runs the home, so I should put these where you want them.” He pulled out a few items from one of the boxes and showed them to her.  “Where do you want me to put these?”

“Oh…um…” She looked at the shelves.  “I can reach those easily.”

With a nod, he hurried to put them up for her.  “I’ll put in another shelf, one that is closer to your height.  When I built this place, I had some help, but I didn’t have a woman’s help in figuring out where to put everything.  I’m willing to make any changes you need, though.  I realize it won’t be anything fancy like what you’re used to, but I can make it more comfortable than it is.  Don’t be afraid to let me know what you want.”

She stared at him for a minute, as if she needed time to figure out the right thing to say.  Finally, she walked over to the table, glanced at the contents in the boxes, and then turned her gaze to him.  “You really are a good man.”

Not sure why hearing her say that again should make him blush, he shrugged and took more items out of the box.  “I only know how to be who I am.  There’s nothing much to me.  Not really.” After he put the items on the shelf, he went to another box and lifted the fabric and supplies for the clothes she’d make.  “I’m not sure where you want these.”

He held them out to her, and she took them.  “Thank you,” she said.  “For everything.”

“It’s nothing.  Besides, you need clothes.  While what yo
u have on right now looks good, Aunt Betty says a woman likes to have more than one dress to wear.”

She let out a soft chuckle.  “She’s right.”

“Well, I’ll finish putting these things away while you take care of that.  When you come back, I’ll make supper.”

“You’re going to make supper?”

“You’ve had a long journey.  I can’t ask you to cook tonight.  I can’t promise it’ll be as good as what you’re used to, but I don’t do too bad when it comes to fixing meals.  And don’t worry about Gilbert.  I’ll take care of him, too.  I want you to rest, alright?”

She looked back at the soft material in her arms then smiled at him.  “Alright.”

He returned her smile in time for her to turn and head for their bedroom.  Yes, he was already in love with her.  And maybe in time, she would come to return his feelings.

Chapter Four

A couple hours later, Sadie’s hands shook as
she closed the door behind her.  Collapsing against it, she pulled out the small bottle of olive oil from her pocket.  If she wanted tonight to go as quickly as possible, she needed to be ready for him.  And she didn’t have much time.  Al had just changed Gilbert’s diaper and was feeding him for bedtime.

She couldn’t get over the fact that he was a good man.  She’d only heard of such men.  Men who put others’ needs ahead of their own.  But until now, she’d never met one.  And to think she was married to him.  Hazel certainly knew how to pick a good one.  And if anyone deserved a wedding night, it was him.

After she slipped out of her clothes and draped them over the back of the rocking chair, she twisted the lid off the bottle and poured a little of the liquid on her fingers before placing the oil inside her.  It was a familiar routine and one she hated, but it was necessary if she didn’t want to end up sore the next day.

When she was done making sure she was slick enough, she hid the bottle back in her dress pocket then crawled into the bed and pulled the thin blanket up to her chin.  This was it.  Soon Al would come into the room.  She gulped and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down.  This wasn’t how a newly married woman should be coming to her bed.  Yes, she was supposed to be nervous.  That was to be expected.  But she wasn’t supposed to be in absolute dread.

She took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it.  She’d done this before.  Many times.  She just needed to think of something else while he was doing it.  But what?  The blue or yellow dress she’d make?  The breakfast she was going to attempt tomorrow morning?  The buildings she’d seen in town?  The long ride here?

Opening her eyes, she studied the small bedroom with the remaining sunlight that filtered through the open window.  It wasn’t much bigger than what she’d been used to, but there was no smell of perfume, sex or liquor in the room.  That was a huge relief.  She just might get through this without wanting to vomit afterwards.

Forcing her mind off the memories, she studied the quaint dresser and table beside it which contained the wash basin and pitcher.  Next to the bed was a window with curtains made out of potato sacks.  She frowned and took note of the quilt.  It was frayed along the edges and had gray and blue squares.

She hadn’t noticed how masculine the room was before.  It was just like the rest of the small home now that she thought about it.  What a strange thing.  There was nothing feminine about the entire place, except for her.  Maybe he hadn’t been married to Gilbert’s mother.  Or maybe he was glad when she died and threw out a
ll traces of her?  There were so many questions she had and she couldn’t ask any of them because he probably explained all of it to Hazel.

The door creaked open and she stiffened.  In her curiosity, she’d forgotten what was about to take place.  Clutching the blanket to her chin
, she looked over at Al who set the kerosene lamp on the dresser.

“Do you want me to turn the light off?” he asked.

“No.  Please leave it on.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.  The light made it easier to focus on something—anything—in the room.

“How much do you want me to dim it?” he asked.

“What you have right now is fine.”

“It’s pretty bright.”

“I don’t mind it being bright.”

“Alright.” He left the dresser and pulled the potato sac
k curtain shut.  Then he glanced her way.  “I don’t know if you want to watch me undress or not, but I wanted to warn you in case you wanted to shut your eyes or something.”

Despite the awkward position she was in, a smile tugged at her lips.  “I’ll just stay here and wait for you.”

That was simple enough.  She’d done it often enough in the past.  The men hadn’t warned her they were going to remove their clothes—and some only dropped their pants low enough to get to it.  But he was a gentleman.  She knew it as soon as he warned her that he was going to undress.  He’d never step foot inside a godforsaken brothel.

She closed her eyes and swallowed.  Hazel was a virgin.  She had to play the part of one if she didn’t want him to figure out she was more experienced than a woman had the right to be.  She could hear him removing his clothes and her mind went back to her old bedroom where she’d waited on her bed, fighting the urge to either cry or scream.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling.  This wasn’t her old room.  It was her new one.  And in this one, only her husband would be touching her and kissing her.  It was still a transaction.  But it was different from the kind it had been with the men in her past.  For them, it was sexual gratification for money.  In this case, she’d offer him her body for pleasure, but he’d given her his name, his home, and his protection.  At least in this situation, she was getting things she wanted.

A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned her head, her heart threatening to stop when she saw that he wasn’t wearing anything.  She swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat and looked at the drapes.

The bed shifted under his weight as he slipped in next to her.  The bed was much too small.  She could feel his bare flesh pressing against hers, his erection indicating his excitement over what was about to happen.  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.  She could do this.  She
had
to do this.

“Hazel,” he whispered, his voice gentle as he caressed her cheek.

He expected her to make eye contact with him.  She was going to have to oblige him because that’s what Hazel would do.  She forced her gaze to meet his, noting his thick lashes.

“I know this is your first time, and I’m going to try to be as gentle as possible,” he said.  “If you don’t like anything, let me know and I’ll stop.  Alright?”

Making herself nod, she managed a stiff, “Alright.”

He lowered his head and kissed her, something that surprised her since she fully expected him to reach for
her breast right away.  His lips were soft and hesitant.  Raising his head, he took another good look at her, his eyes searching hers.  “Do you want to wait?”

“No,” she quickly replied.  If he didn’t do it tonight, she’d have to go through the next day in dread of this.  At least if they did it now, he should be good for a few days.  Then she could relax and settle into this life.  “I…I’m just nervous, since this is my,” she tried not to wince, “first time and all.”

The lie was harder to say than she thought it’d be, but it worked.  He relaxed and offered her a smile.  “I’m really glad you left Atlanta to come here.  I know in my ad I said I was looking for a mother for Gilbert, but the truth is, I also wanted a wife, someone who would be a friend and lover.” He chuckled.  “I didn’t want to come out and say I was lonely.  It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a man admits.”

She cleared her throat and returned his smile.  “I was lonely, too.”

“Even with all the extravagant balls and men vying for your hand?”

Was that what Hazel’s life had been like?  Going from one dance to another, holding hopeful suitors at bay?  “None of those men meant anything to me,” she finally replied, figuring it best to let him think what he wanted even as she told him the truth.

“Well, I’m honored and forever grateful you came all the way out here to marry me.  I promise I’ll do everything I can to make you glad you made the sacrifice.”

He saved her from having to reply because he kissed her again.  This time she responded to him, knowing if she didn’t, he would probably stop, and as much as she’d like him to tell her more about him
self and what he and Hazel wrote to each other, there was still the pressing matter of the wedding night to resolve first.

He brought her into his arms and held her as he deepened the kiss.  Had it not been for his arousal which rested against her abdomen, she might have enjoyed it.  But she did her best to act as if she did, and he must have believed it since he didn’t stop.

Before long, he pursued a more intimate exploration of her body, the light providing more than enough opportunity to do so.  He traced her breasts with his hands before he brought his mouth to her nipples to tease them.  Though he was gentle, taking great care in touching her, she wasn’t really aware of what he was doing.

She let out moans when appropriate, as she’d been taught, but she focused on the drapes, noting the hints of a cobweb lining the top of them on the right side of the window.  She didn’t know if she should remove the cobweb or not.  It proved to be a good focal point during this act, and she knew this wouldn’t be the only time he’d want to do it.

Suddenly, his mouth was on her neck, his breathing heavy as his body wiggled between her legs.  She gulped and gripped the pillow under her head.  This was it.  Soon—very soon—it’d be over.  At least he wasn’t one of those men who felt the need to prove himself by trying to get her to climax.  Like she could ever truly enjoy herself while doing this!

He lifted his head.  “Hazel?”

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her.  And this forced her to look at him instead of focusing on the drapes.  She caught the worried expression on his face and knew she was doing a horrible job of pretending to be the woman he expected to share his bed with tonight.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just…nervous, you know?”

“Maybe we should wait.”

She stopped him before he could get off of her.  “No!” Recalling Gilbert who was sleeping in the other room, she lowered her voice.  “I want to do this.” To get it over with.  “Please?  It’ll be worse if we wait.”

He winced.  “Worse?”

“I meant, my nervousness will get worse.”

“I don’t know.  I want this to be something you’ll enjoy.”

Then he’d be waiting forever because she’d never enjoy it, no matter how tender he was.  And he was amazingly tender.  Whatever connection he and Hazel made through their correspondence, he obviously cared about her.

“Something about this doesn’t feel right,” he said then got off of her.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.  Not when it feels like I’m forcing you to do it.”

She sat up in the bed as he went to retrieve his underwear.  “You’re not forcing me.  I came here willingly.”

He slipped on his underwear and shook his head.  “I know, but it’s not right.”

She stared at him, not believing her ears.  Did he suspect she wasn’t really Hazel?

“I’m sorry, Hazel.  I don’t want to make you more nervous than you already are, but maybe things will be better after we get to know each other.” He pulled open a drawer and pulled out one of his shirts.  “Would you like something to wear?”

Realizing he really wasn’t going to follow through with the ordeal, she decided she’d better take the shirt.

He handed it to her before he turned down the wick on the kerosene lamp.  Glancing her way, he asked, “Do you need some light to sleep?”

“Some, if you don’t mind.” Unable to look at him anymore, she buttoned the shirt, aware of the masculine scent associated with it.

When he settled back into the bed, he turned toward her.  “Is it alright if I hold you?”

What a strange thing for a man to ask.  He refused to consummate the marriage, but thought he could just hold her?  She’d been around men.  Once they touched a woman, they had to do everything else.  So maybe she could get this whole thing over with after all.  Relieved, she said, “Of course, you can hold me.”

He wrapped his arms around her and drew her into his embrace.  He was stronger than most men, probably because he worked with his hands.  Out here in the wilderness, he had to rely on his physical strength to support himself and his son.  Now, he would be supporting her, too.  From what she’d seen, he didn’t have much to his name, and she could understand why he wondered if Hazel could accept this new change.  Hazel had been used to a privileged lifestyle, one with fancy gowns, servants, and other things money could buy.

Sadie thought back to her initial meeting with Hazel.  Hazel had been wearing a beautiful dark blue dress, but it wasn’t the dress that initially caught her attention.  She had been huddled in the corner of a restaurant, seeming as if she needed to get away from someone or something.  That was what caught Sadie’s attention.  She recognized a desperate plight when she saw one.  It was how she felt every day of her life.  And she couldn’t resist trying to rescue Hazel from whatever it was she was hiding from.

“Do you need help?” Sadie had asked as she approached the small table.

Sadie lifted the veil from her hat so the woman could see her face.  When in public, Sadie didn’t dare reveal her true identity in case it brought shame to Madame Eleanor’s business.  Prostitutes, after all, were to be discrete when entertaining men in the community who didn’t want to tarnish their reputation by being seen entering a brothel.  In that case, Madame arranged a private meeting in a place of their choosing and dressed the prostitute in ladylike attire with a veil to conceal her identity, lest another man who didn’t mind frequenting a brothel recognize her and expose the secret rendezvous. Only prostitutes Madame trusted not to run off were allowed to go to such meetings, and Sadie welcomed the chance to get out into polite society, if even for an hour.

Now, as she watched Hazel wipe the tears from her eyes with a lace handkerchief, Sadie felt a pull to go to the woman and help her, to make sure she never ended up in a situation Sadie had been forced into.  Hazel looked much too fragile to handle such a hardship.