Mail Order Melody (2 page)

*****  

Calvin stepped onto the platform of the train station in Pudville, Missouri.  He was sweating despite the cold due to his anticipation.  His bride was about to step off the train.  He would be married in a matter of hours. 
A wife.
 
He'd never thought it would happen.  Being alone was the worst part of owning a ranch, but a wife should solve everything for him.  Life would be perfect once he had a wife to cook and clean and take care of him.

He watched carefully as the train pulled into the station.  Only one person got off, and it was a woman traveling alone.  The woman was blond, as the letter said she would be, but she looked older than the nineteen years she had claimed to be.  Not that her age bothered him. He had thought a nineteen year old would be too young for him anyway. 

He watched for a moment, wondering if anyone else would approach her, or if she was indeed his bride.  After a few minutes, he walked toward her. 

"I'm Calvin Simpson," he said, his voice calm even though his hands were shaking.

Eliza looked at the simple man before her.  He was obviously a man who worked hard, and he kept his cowboy hat low over his eyes. 

"Eliza Woods."  She held her hand out to shake his, but he stopped short, his hand a few inches from hers.

"I'm looking for Dorothy Jones."  He looked around and saw that the train was pulling out of the station.  "Do you know if there was another woman traveling alone on the train?"  Did his bride decide not to come? 

Eliza shook her head slowly.  "There wasn't."  She looked around for a place to sit with him for a moment to talk and spotted a bench.  "Come sit with me, and I'll explain."

Calvin frowned at her but followed her to the bench and sat beside her, giving her his full attention.  Now that the train had pulled out of the station, the sleepy little town was returning to normal.  "What can I do for you, Miss Woods?"

Eliza briefly explained what she'd seen in the waiting room in Beckham ending with, "So I decided to take her place.  I hope you don't mind."  She wasn't certain if she wanted him to say she was the woman he'd waited for all his life, or if she wanted him to reject her.  Could she go through with a marriage to a stranger?  What would she do if she didn't?

Calvin was confused for a moment as he looked at her.  "You mean, you just took her ticket and came in her place?  Is that allowed?"  Why would the mail order bride agency agree to just slip another woman in his bride's place?  No, he had only exchanged one letter with Dorothy, but it still didn't seem right to him to get someone he hadn't sent for.

"Well, the woman who was trying to convince her she'd committed to you said it was all right."  Eliza looked down at her hands, realizing for the first time that she had agreed to marry a stranger who had never agreed to marry her.  What was she thinking?  "I don't think this is such a good idea," she mumbled, getting to her feet.  She picked up her bag and turned to walk away, determined to put this awkward situation behind her.  She'd figure something out.

Calvin reached out and caught her wrist in his hand.  "Where are you going?" he asked, still contemplating what she'd told him.  "Didn't you come out here to marry me?" 

Eliza was tired.  She'd spent three days on a train coming to meet this man, and he seemed not to care one way or the other.  What was his game?  "I did come here to marry you, but you obviously want the girl who agreed to marry you, not me."  She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her tight.  She refused to cause a scene. She couldn't draw attention to herself so she stood staring down at his hand on her wrist waiting for him to release her.

"No, I don't even know the girl.  I just...I'm surprised that's all."  He looked her up and down.  She was rounder than he'd expected, but in a way that was pleasing to the eye.  Her hair was a golden blond pulled up into a bun atop her head.  He could envision her with hair down around her bare shoulders, leaning over him.  Forcing the image from his mind, he slid his hand along her wrist until he was gripping her hand. 

Eliza gave him the stare she'd used on countless other men who'd tried to strong arm her over the years.  Because of her talent as a mezzo soprano, she'd been coveted by more men than she could count and had learned quickly to freeze them with a stare. 

"Let go of my hand, please."  She kept her voice soft and sweet, not letting him see how truly angry she was. 

Calvin refused to be intimidated by her stare.  "You used the train ticket I sent to come out here.  Marry me."  She couldn't walk away from him now, could she?  There was something about her that made him able to think of nothing but holding her close. 

She stared at him in shock.  How could he ask her that after the way he'd treated her?  She found she liked him less and less by the moment.  "No thank you.  I'll be on my way."

Calvin sighed, realizing he'd made her angry.  "Sit down with me for a moment and talk."

Eliza wanted to run away, but she realized that she at least owed him a conversation, so she sat down beside him, dropped her bag at her feet, and made certain that her skirt didn't touch him at all.  "What do you want to talk about, Mr. Simpson?"

Calvin kept her hand in his, squeezing it slightly.  "You agreed to marry me for a reason.  Has that reason disappeared since you came here?"  Why was she being so touchy? 

She shook her head.  "No, it hasn't, but you obviously want the woman who you sent for, not me."  She'd never been rejected before, but she'd also never been with a man as an equal.  Most men heard her sing and immediately put her on a pedestal, not seeing her as anything more than a loose woman with a voice.

"I was surprised.  If you sent off for something specific, and something else came in its place, wouldn't you be surprised?" he asked.

"I'm not a thing, Mr. Simpson.  I'm a woman." 

His eyes traveled down to where her breasts were pressed against the front of her gown.  Her curves were beautiful to him, and he couldn't wait to take her in his arms.  "You are indeed a woman."

Eliza saw where his eyes were focused and her mouth dropped open in surprise.  "I beg your pardon!"  Why would he think it was all right to look at her there?  She'd grown used to men thinking she was a tart because she appeared onstage, but he knew nothing about her career.

Calvin grinned sheepishly at her look.  "I'm sorry.  I just...well, you came here to be my wife.  So, I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course, I mind!  Even if I were planning to be your wife, I wouldn't allow you to stare at me as you have been.  You should respect me."  She looked at her dress wondering what he found enticing about it. 

He used his free hand to stroke her cheek gently.  "I do respect you.  I'm sorry I was looking at you that way."  He paused, struggling to find the right words.  Now that she was beside him he wasn't about to let her go. He'd come to town today to pick up his bride and take her to the preacher, and that was just what he planned to do.  "Tell me why you agreed to be my bride."

Eliza found she was reluctant to admit to her career on the stage, worried he'd think her a loose woman, as most men she'd met over the years had.  Yes, she'd been kissed countless times by many men over the course of her career, but not once had she been kissed by a man she'd felt romantically inclined toward.  "I was at loose ends, trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life when I heard Elizabeth arguing with Dorothy.  I decided that I wanted to take her place, because marrying sounded like the right answer.  I have since changed my mind."

"I want you to stay and be my wife."  Calvin smiled at her and brushed a stray tendril of hair from her face.  It was chilly out in the cold December air, but he wanted her to stay.  "What do I have to say to get you to change your mind back?" he asked. 

"Why do you want me for your wife, Mr. Simpson?  What is it about me that appeals to you?"  She knew her question was blunt to the point of rudeness, but at that moment she didn't care.  She wanted him to realize that she wasn't the bride he wanted, and she knew she could lead him to that conclusion.

"I like you.  I like your spirit.  You're a beautiful woman, Eliza, and I can think of nothing I'd like more than to take you home with me as my bride." 

Eliza was surprised that he had an answer.  She hadn't expected him to actually have any reasons he wanted to marry her.  "But you were disappointed that I wasn't Dorothy."

"Disappointment and surprise are two different things.  I honestly thought that marrying a nineteen year old at my age was silly, but she was the only one who responded.  I much prefer you to the vision I had in my head of her.  Please, give me a chance."

Eliza bit her lip.  She'd agreed to marry him, but she wasn't certain it was the right thing to do at that moment.  "Is there a boarding house in town?  Where I could stay while I think about it?" she asked.

He nodded and got to his feet. "There is. I'll take you there, but I won't like it."

She smiled at the petulant sound of his voice. "And why won't you like it?"

"Because I wanted to take my bride home with me today." He kept her hand in his as he picked up her carpet bag and walked down the street with her. "May I see you tomorrow?" His mind raced as he thought about how hard it would be to get away from the ranch for another full day. His foreman was a good one, but the work still needed to be done, and if he wasn't there to oversee it, the men didn't work as hard. It was that simple.

Eliza considered his question for a moment. "I'd like that." She envisioned him coming into town and taking her out to dinner and maybe even catching a play with her. Looking around the town, she knew the possibility of there being any kind of entertainment was slim, but that could work in her favor if she decided not to marry him.

Of course the longer she was in town, the greater the chance someone would spot her and let Sebastian know where she was. Did she really want to stay in town overnight? Did she want to even think about working somewhere in town and literally singing for her supper? She had her answer as soon as the thought crossed her mind.

She stopped short and turned to the man beside her. He was nice to look at with dark hair and big brown eyes. She could marry him. "I've changed my mind, because you so graciously agreed to me staying here. Let's marry now." She couldn't let her sister and her children be in danger because she didn't want to marry the man she had already agreed to marry. No, she'd marry him now and head to his ranch, wherever it may be. Maybe she hadn't been trained to be a good wife, but she knew she could do it.

Calvin let out a whoop and picked her up, spinning her in a quick circle. "Let's go see the preacher."

Eliza blushed but nodded. "I'd like that.

Calvin wanted to run with her the whole way to the pastor's house, but he forced himself to walk calmly and sedately. "The pastor lives just two blocks over. Do you mind walking? We can take the wagon, but it seems silly for such a short distance." He enjoyed walking, and he liked the idea of spending a bit more time with her so she could get used to him before he kissed her for the first time. He imagined a first kiss was something that would make a woman nervous.

Eliza shook her head. "I'm fine with walking." She liked to be outdoors, and she especially enjoyed moving around. Sebastian had been beside her every step she took for so long. She felt very free all of a sudden. She loved the idea of running through a field of flowers, but realistically, she knew she wasn't much of a runner at her size.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked doing his best to pay attention to where he was going instead of staring at her. Never had he felt he had the right to touch a girl the way he was touching her at that moment, and the thought of their wedding night kept rushing through his mind. He couldn't wait to have her naked in his bed. "You'll like Pastor Gibbons. He's in his mid-twenties with no children yet. He and his wife just married a year ago."

"He sounds nice." Eliza hoped it wouldn't take her a full year to have children. She wanted a dozen, and she was already thirty- two, so she didn't have all that much time when it came right down to it. She had been a church-goer her entire life, much to Sebastian's chagrin. He'd wanted her to avoid crowds of people, and she had when she wasn't performing, all except on Sunday mornings. She'd put her foot down about attending church.

"He's not one of those preachers who is trying to scare you half to death, either. I've never once heard him preach a 'fire and brimstone' sermon. He's more likely to talk about how we're all sinners, and God's love is the only thing that can save us."

"He sounds like someone I'll really like." Eliza smiled. She'd heard many pastors over the years, but she preferred not to listen to the hell and damnation talks. The sermons that were focused on the good in everyone were her favorites.

They walked along in companionable silence until he stopped in front of a small house. "He's expecting us." Not knowing what would happen when Eliza arrived, he hadn't planned a big wedding celebration for them, and he was glad of that now. What would have happened if they'd had a sign congratulating 'Calvin and Dorothy?' He was marrying Eliza. He couldn't imagine that even under the circumstances any woman would be pleased.

He knocked briefly on the door and waited, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he was surprised she couldn't hear it. Finally the door opened, and it was Mrs. Gibbons, the pastor's pretty young wife. She had auburn hair and brown eyes, and she always had a ready smile. "It's good to see you, Calvin. Is this your bride? Dorothy, isn't it?" Mrs. Gibbons had a gift for remembering details she was told. Calvin wished she was a bit less gifted at that moment.

Eliza blushed. "I'm his bride, but I'm not Dorothy. I'm Eliza." She held her hand out for the younger woman to shake. "Dorothy backed out at the last minute, and I took her place." She knew that people would be asking questions, so it would be easier just to get the correct story out to begin with.

Mrs. Gibbons looked between the two of them with surprise, before opening the door wider to allow them entrance. "It's good to meet you, Eliza. I'll go get Mark." She hurried from the room as soon as they were inside, going to get her husband.

Eliza hoped there wouldn't be many more uncomfortable questions about her marrying Calvin instead of the girl who was supposed to. She stood silently beside him waiting for the couple to return.

A minute or two passed before Mrs. Gibbons came back into the room with a young man at her side. Eliza had never seen such a young minister. "So I hear you're Eliza, not the Dorothy we were expecting?" He grinned as he asked the question, putting Eliza at ease. He obviously wasn't one to criticize for a mix up.

"That's right. Although if it's too confusing for everyone, I suppose I can learn to answer to Dorothy."

The pastor laughed softly. "I'm sure that won't be necessary. I think we can all adjust to calling you Eliza." He shook her hand briefly before looking at Calvin. "Are you ready?"

Calvin nodded eagerly, taking Eliza's hand in his when instructed to by the minister.

The ceremony was short and to the point, both of them repeating their vows in strong voices. When Pastor Gibbons pronounced them man and wife, Eliza was startled for a moment. She'd never even kissed this man. Of course, she'd been kissed countless times, but it had always been on stage or as part of a rehearsal. Never had she been kissed by a man who just wanted to kiss her because she was Eliza.

She lifted her lips to his and closed her eyes, slightly embarrassed that her first real kiss was in front of people, but it was the life she'd chosen by agreeing to be a mail order bride. She sup-posed she could have pulled him into an alley to kiss him for the first time. As the thought crossed her mind, she had to fight to stifle a giggle. She could just imagine her new husband's face if she'd done something so bold.

Calvin brushed his lips gently across hers before raising his head and turning back to the pastor. 'Thank you for taking the time out of your day to marry us, Pastor."

"It was my pleasure. I'll be seeing you on Sunday, right?"

Calvin nodded. "We'll be there." He wasn't quite certain what to say to Eliza as they left the pastor's house, so he took her hand and led her through the quiet streets back to his wagon.

Eliza felt unsure of herself as they walked, wondering what she
was supposed to say to a man she barely knew who just happened to be her husband. "Tell me about your ranch."

Calvin looked relieved to have something to talk to her about as he stowed her bag in the back of his wagon and handed her up to the seat. "It's only about six miles out of town, so we won't have to drive more than thirty minutes or so to come back to town when we need to." He walked around and climbed up beside her, picking up the reins in both hands. "I have a forty acre spread, with mainly cattle, but I do have a few pigs, chickens, and cows. I like having the extra food they bring us."

Eliza nodded, wondering if milking would be her job. When she'd been a child, it had been up to her to milk the cows and make certain they were fed. "Do you do all the work yourself?"

He shook his head. "I have five men who work for me. They live in a bunkhouse on the property."

She looked at him in surprise. "Do I need to cook for them all?" She hoped not. Learning to cook as a child and teenager had been as much a part of her life as any girl's, but she hadn't touched a stove in sixteen years. She hoped he had some cookbooks and that it would all come back to her easily.

"Oh, of course not. They do for themselves at mealtime."

Eliza was extremely relieved. It was going to be hard enough for her to remember how to cook for her husband, let alone to learn to cook for a big crowd of men. Hopefully by the time children came along, she'd have mastered the skill.

He drove along the dirt road out of town. She looked around her in surprise, learning the landscape. She'd been all up and down the East coast of the United States, but she'd never been given the opportunity to travel anywhere West before. Of course, Missouri wasn't really the West, but it was close enough that she considered it an adventure.

"Do you do the outdoor chores or will I be milking the cows and gathering eggs?" She knew how to do farm chores, because she'd been raised to do them, but it had been so long, she knew she was going to need help with most things. Should she tell him that now, or wait until later, though?

"I'll do the outside chores. If you want a kitchen garden come spring, it'll be up to you to plant it."

"That sounds reasonable." It would also give her time to get a better handle on what she'd need to fix the meals she'd be cooking. "Do you have everything stocked up that I'll need for baking and cooking?"

"Yes, you should be well-stocked. If not, let me know and we'll take a trip into town. You can make me a list or I can go on my own."

Eliza nodded. She'd rather send him on his own and avoid the chance of being recognized, but she knew she'd want to pick out her own fabric for dresses. "I'll go with you, I'm certain. I'd like to be able to make some new dresses for myself." She would just have to do her best to keep out of people's way.

He shrugged. "You're welcome to do that." Taking her hand in his, he pulled off onto a dirt path in the road. There were two ruts on either side of a patch of grass that had obviously been the path where wagon wheels had traveled.

Eliza watched her surroundings more carefully as they drove off the main road. "Is all this land yours?"

He nodded. "I have land as far as the eye can see in front of us and to your right. The drive is shared by William Hampton. He's my closest friend and neighbor."

"Is he married?" she asked. She liked the idea of having a close female neighbor she could spend time with.

"No, he's not. If I'd turned the other way from the main road, we'd have got to Stanley Bond's house. The closest woman around is his wife, Abigail. I think she's eighteen. I know she's young and carrying her first child."

Eliza couldn't imagine marrying so young, but she knew most
women did. Her older sister had married at eighteen and had been extremely happy until her husband died five years before. Her boys were twelve and ten, and Eliza loved to see them. "I look forward to meeting her."

Calvin smiled, glad that Eliza was looking for ways to fit in and make friends already. "I'll be sure to introduce you at church on Sunday morning."

He turned a comer and she saw a house set amongst the trees. It wasn't a huge house, but it was certainly big enough for the two of them and a couple of children. She wondered if it would have any of the luxuries she'd grown used to having over the years. She had grown up hauling water for her own baths, but the hotels she'd stayed in since she was sixteen usually had running water. Living a rural life again was going to be hard to get used to. She could do it, of course, but she might not like it.

When he stopped the wagon, she waited for him to come around and help her down, but instead, he went to the back of the wagon and retrieved her bag, looking at her expectantly.
"Aren't you coming?"

Eliza bit back a sharp retort. Didn't he even realize it was his job to help her down? Did the man have no manners? Why had he helped her in town but not now?

She carefully caught her skirt in one hand and climbed down from the wagon on her own, something she hadn't done since she was a girl. Men had fought over helping her down from wagons, and now she was married to a man
who felt she should do for her
self. She was realizing more and more just how much her life had changed by agreeing to marry a rancher.

Once she was beside him, he led her to the house, and she was astonished to see that it wa
s unlocked. She remembered keep
ing her doors unlocked as a child, but she'd had to lock them for so long now that she barely remembered any other way.

Inside the house was a small
entryway that led in two direc
tions. One led to a small parlor and the other to a large kitchen with a table taking up most of the place. She looked at the stove and realized it was similar to the one she'd learned to cook on back in New York. That pleased h
er, because she was already ner
vous enough about cooking after so long away from it.

"I'm going to put your bag on the bed," he told her, walking out of the kitchen.

She followed him, wanting to see more of th
e house. The bed
room was up a short flight of stairs and to the right at the top. There was no bathroom in the house as she'd expected, but she felt oddly let down anyway. She really needed a good soaking after
three days on a train, but she wasn't certain she'd have time for anything quite so frivolous that day.

The bed took up most of the room, and she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Would she really be expected to share it with him that night? To let him have that kind of power over her body? She wasn't certain she could.

"Go ahead and put your things away," he told her, breaking into her thoughts. "I cleared out the top two drawers in the chest of drawers for you, so you could have your own space." He walked around the bed to her and pulled her against him, his hands roaming over her back and down to her bottom. "I like to eat supper at five. Make sure it's ready." With that, he abruptly released her and left the room.

Eliza stood with her heart pounding in her chest as she watched him go. Had he really just touched her that way and then left? How odd.

Knowing she would need time to prepare the evening meal, she rushed downstairs to the kitchen. She was surprised by just how clean everything was. She'd really expected to find a mess waiting for her, but even the stove looked as if it had just been scrubbed.

She looked on the shelves and saw very little food, finally
opening a door against one wall. It was a pantry, and had many of the things she'd need to cook for him. There was lard, sugar, flour, and many other staples. She was relieved to see just how well stocked it was.

She pulled up the ring on the cellar door and descended the stairs, finding a
well-stocked
cellar as well. There were dried meats as well as fresh. It was cold enough that the fresh meat seemed to be keeping well. She found a small pork roast that she took upstairs to cook, along with some potatoes and carrots. She knew she could handle something that simple. She worried a bit about whether she'd be able to bake bread on her own.

She found a small stack of recipes on the shelf in the pantry and realized that he'd been cooking for himself. There were food stains on the pages of the papers, but she didn't care at all. She'd be able to do her duty as a wife and keep him fed. That was all that mattered to her at that moment.

She put the roast into a pot and covered it with water before peeling and cutting up the potatoes and adding them. She peeled and sliced the carrots putting them into the water and then placing them all in the oven. It was only after she'd opened it that she realized she hadn't yet started the fire. She shook her head. She was going to have to learn to be a good cook. Her new husband
deserved to have edible food for dinner every night.

After starting the fire, she mixed up dough for bread, hoping she would have time for it to rise and cook before Calvin came in for dinner. Where he'd spend his day, she didn't know. She made a mental note to ask him about what he did every day so she would have something to talk to him about.

*****

When Calvin got home at the end of his day, he went to the barn as usual to milk the cows. He didn't know what Eliza was cooking, but he was relatively certain he'd drink milk with whatever it was. He always drank milk with his meals.

When he entered the house, he was shocked by the scene in front of him. There were the glorious scents of baking bread filling the air and the table was set, but there was flour everywhere. Eliza was covered in it from her forehead to the tips of her black shoes which peeked out from beneath her dress. The floor was caked in it as well as the work table. It looked as if she'd opened a bag of flower and just scattered it willy-nilly around the room.