Violet: Bride of North Dakota (American Mail-Order Bride 39) (10 page)

I walked with Miss Keating tonight under the borealis sky. Her presence is intoxicating, and I fear I cannot get enough of being around her. That does not bode well for me.

(Journal Entry, Daniel Lund, October 22, 1890)

Daniel walked beside Violet, grateful for the cold so they were each bundled up to keep warm. Otherwise, he’d have been tempted to hug her tightly to him, to touch her cheek, to kiss her.

He hadn’t felt that way since... Opal.

That thought should frighten him, send him walking—no,
running
—away in fear. Except that Violet was nothing like Opal. He was more wary now and more aware of the signs—and he hadn’t noticed any of those signs in Violet, which made it doubly hard to push her away. She was warm and friendly and genuine to all she met. As they walked, she talked of how welcoming everyone in Minot was and even elicited responses from him. He wanted to stay distant emotionally, but he had no defenses against her.

“Oh, look!” Violet said in a hushed tone as she stopped and pointed up toward the blueish-greenish northern lights playing in the sky above them. “That is so beautiful!”

He looked up and drew in a deep breath. He’d lived here his whole life, and he tended to take the light display for granted. But with her pointing them out with that tone of reverence in her voice—well, it got a man to thinking.

She turned a full circle, slowly, her eyes to the sky, awe in her face.

He closed his eyes. She was like a fairy creature, enchanting everyone around her. Enchanting him. He’d never wanted any woman as he wanted her. And it broke his heart to have no claim on her.

Tonight the sky was full of beautiful hues of blue, with smaller swirls of green and purple, flickering, shimmering, lighting the sky in all directions.

It was a beautiful light display—and yet he found his gaze drawn to the beautiful face beside him.

Finally, Violet lowered her eyes to meet his gaze. “Amelia said your house is just a block from hers.” It was a question.

A shiver ran through him—and it wasn’t from the cold. In fact, he was feeling warmer and warmer by the moment. “Yes.”

“And your father said I should see the improvements you’ve made on it.”

His heart raced. “Yes.”

She touched his coat sleeve. “Would you show me? I’d love to see your house.”

He paused, very much wanting to show her and see her reaction to his work. But he didn’t dare. He could barely keep his hands off of her on a public street. “It’s not appropriate, but I’ll introduce you to my dog.”

She laughed brightly. “Will your dog want to marry me, too?”

He chuckled. “Duke will want to adopt you.”

“Why don’t you bring him to work with you?”

“Actually, he’s gotten pretty old and likes to rest on his cushion in his doghouse on my back porch. It’s enclosed so he stays warm. And my neighbor checks on him during the day. Everybody loves old Duke.”

“I’d love to meet him. I had a dog when I was growing up. I miss her.”

“We’ll need to ask Amelia to come with us. For propriety’s sake. And it would be best to do it in the light of day, so you can see what I’ve done.”

She nodded. “All right. Thank you, then, for walking me home.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, watching her disappear into his sister’s house.

He lifted his eyes to the skies once more. They really were spectacular. And more so with Violet by his side.

He took one last glance toward the house, and started walking toward his own.

He was smitten by Violet. Attracted to her physically. Compelled to protect her.

He had to get her married off—and soon—or he would go mad.

Dear Violet,

I am enclosing this letter in care of Mr. Nathaniel James Evans of Minot, North Dakota. I hope it reaches you in a timely manner. I’m assuming you are happily married by now. Please send details of your wedding, your new life, and your new situation. You’ll be surprised to learn that I myself am unwed. When I arrived here, the groom refused to marry me. Remember Mr. Buchanan’s insistence that he wanted an unattractive bride? Well, he meant it. Though honesty forces me to admit that he has now proposed in earnest. And, in fact, is making quite a nuisance of himself in recent days. As I already have a job secured now and in the future, I’ve turned him down. I do believe it’s for the best. I quite like the city of Keene. It’s beautiful here, lots of trees, and some of the architecture is amazing! Big brick buildings, stone structures, and lovely houses. The town is well cared for, and the citizens are very nice. I am staying with Reverend Gentry and his wife. More generous people you cannot imagine. And the food. To have all I want is like a miracle. I don’t doubt I’ll be plump in no time. The leaves are turning and are absolutely gorgeous in color, so many hues you can’t believe it. Even on the train ride out it was hard to take my eyes off the scenery. At the moment, I am acting as a governess to Mr. Buchanan’s daughter, Cassie. When Mr. Buchanan’s new bride arrives, I will be working at the mercantile in town. I miss you and all the girls. Even the cramped room we shared. Is it odd to be homesick for all that? Sir Lancelot has fared well here, too. He’s very spoiled. I hope all goes well with you, but will feel much better if you inform me of all that has happened.

Your loving friend, Rachel West

(Letter mailed October 18, 1890, and delivered—after a day of confusion over the address—October 23, 1890)

THE NEXT DAY, VIOLET RECEIVED a letter from Rachel. As she read it, she wondered how she could possibly respond without revealing the embarrassing circumstances in which she found herself. Rachel seemed to have plenty of problems of her own, but she was sure they would work out. At least her groom had not run from her.

What could she say to her friend? Certainly not the truth, for the mere thought of Rachel—or anyone—knowing she had a runaway groom was far too embarrassing. But how could she word her response so she didn’t actually
lie
, but perhaps just left out a few of the details?

“My brother is a dolt.”

Startled, Violet raised her eyes from Rachel’s letter to Amelia. “What?”

They were alone in the house. Sven had to work late, long after dark, tonight.

“You heard me.” Amelia, sitting across from Violet, sat back in her chair. “You like him, right?”

“You have three brothers. Which one do you mean?” But she knew.

“They’re all dolts.” Amelia smiled slowly. “But you know which one I am referring to.”

Yes, she did. Not sure where Amelia was going with this, Violet said, tentatively, “Yes, I like him.”

“I thought so. And he likes you, too. He’s just too
stupid
to realize it. But there are ways to get around that—and I know them all.” She stopped, her face pretty in the lamplight. “Do you like him enough that you would consider him as a potential husband?”

Her face flashing warm, Violet paused. Could she reveal herself to Amelia? After a moment, she said, her voice quiet, “Yes.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. You are now going to secretly court the stupidest man in town.”

Violet couldn’t help but laugh. “You make him sound so tempting. How could I resist an offer like that?”

“Daniel Lund is a good man. He is loyal, protective—overprotective, if you ask his younger sister. He builds beautiful furniture, takes care of his mother and father, and helps people in need. He loves children. And he earns a good wage with his woodworking skills.” Amelia paused, then smiled mischievously. “And he’s handsome, too.”

Violet choked out a laugh. “Yes. He is that.”

“All the women in town think so. And many a woman has thrown herself at him. But they’ve gone about it all wrong. Ever since Opal... well, you’ll need to ask him about Opal when the time is right. That’s not my tale to share.”

Hope flickered in Violet’s chest like northern lights. “What do you think I ought to do?”

“Daniel is a man worth going for—if you have the guts to do it. But how do you go about courting a skittish giant?”

Violet didn’t have a clue. “How?”

“You don’t chase him. You get him to chase you.”

“How?” Violet asked again.

There was a knock on the door.

“Oh, I asked Zachary to come by. He’s an important part of our brilliant plan.” She smiled and called out, “Come in.”

It was indeed Zachary, who came in, saw them, scooped up a plate of food, and sat with them. “Okay, what is this favor you want to ask of me, my dear sister?”

“You, my dear brother, are going to help us turn Daniel into Shakespeare’s green-eyed monster.”

“I want to keep my pretty looks, ladies. Daniel is already insanely jealous over your houseguest.”

The women exchanged glances and smiled. Amelia said, “You are going to come to the family dinner this coming Sunday and help us make Daniel so jealous that he loses his temper.”

“And kills me. I understand. Will you at least place flowers on my grave?”

“Papa will protect you, you ninny.” Amelia pushed on her brother’s shoulder. “We’ll call it
Plan Green Eyes
as he will be seeing green.”

“More like
Plan Where Do We Bury Zachary
.”

“So,” Amelia asked him, “will you help us?”

“And risk infuriating Daniel?” Zachary grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

My dearest friend Rachel,

I miss you so much. We both boarded our trains with great hope in our hearts for happy marriages and family. I hope you will find exactly that with your Thomas, for he must soon realize you are beautiful both inside and out and you will win him over. Things seem to not be exactly as we thought when we left Massachusetts, but that is often the way in life, as we build up expectations that then disappoint. Don’t mistake my meaning. I am certainly not disappointed in Minot. And I absolutely adore the northern lights that shine and flicker in the night sky. I never thought I’d see such beauty as the light display put on by the heavens. And Mr. Evans is indeed as handsome and wealthy as he claimed to be. What more could a woman want? If I could raise a glass and make a toast, it would be that we will both be happy in the marriages for which we traveled so far.

All my love, your friend, Violet

(
Letter written after long hours of pondering, October 23, 1890)

Daniel looked forward to Sunday supper at Amelia’s, to spending relaxed time with Violet after church.

He knew he shouldn’t be around her, but surely it was safe enough with his sister and brother-in-law at the table with them. And Amelia had practically begged him to come.

He knocked and Sven opened the door. “Come in and hang up your coat. The party is just starting.”

“Party?” Daniel asked, stepping inside. At the table sat Violet and Zachary and Paul Carlson, a widower in his forties.

What was this? His hackles rose. Were they going to auction Miss Keating off like a mare? To the highest bidder?

He narrowed his eyes at Sven, but his brother-in-law had already closed the door and walked back to the table. He motioned to Daniel to join them.

The other men at the table called out greetings to him, and Violet smiled, “Good evening, Mr. Lund.”