The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (3 page)

M
eg had run
to her room when her father left, her thoughts racing from hopeless to angry to confused. She reached up and pulled the combs out, and shook her head as her hair fell down her back. When Clara knocked on the door and said, “Meg, can I come in?” she’d just started on her second pigtail.

“Yes,” Meg said as she yanked the tie around her pigtail, surveying herself in the mirror of the vanity.

Clara opened the door and walked over to the bed, Rose following behind.

“Oh, all our hard work, now back to pigtails.” Clara sat on the bed and motioned for Rose to sit beside her.

Meg rested her elbows in the vanity, her chin in her hands as her eyes narrowed at Clara’s reflection in the mirror.

“You heard what he said, both of you. I guess I’m supposed to look like this, a little girl, forever.”

Rose stood and crossed over to Meg, gently unbinding the pigtails and brushing her sister’s hair. “You know it was just a little sudden,” she said as she ran the brush through Meg’s long tresses.

“It may seem that way, but I’m a grown woman. How much more ‘grown’ do I have to be? Hank’s married, and he’s not all that much older than I am. I’m almost as old as you, Clara,” she huffed as she thought of Sam Allen slipping away, without her ever having had a chance.

“Maybe he just needs a little time to get used to the idea.” Clara stood behind Meg also, smiling kindly at her in the mirror. “The family has been through quite a bit lately, and you know how he feels about change.”

“That’s all well and good, but I don’t want to put everything on hold because of everything that’s happened. I’m ready to start my own life.”

Clara regarded her in the mirror, her arms folded over her chest and her head cocked to the side. “Meg, is there anyone in particular that you have set your sights on?” she asked.

Meg’s heart fluttered and she did all she could not to show her surprise. Could Clara know how she felt about Sam? No, it was impossible. She hadn’t told a soul, not even Rose, but when she looked from Clara to her sister, she saw the hint of a smile in her eyes.

“No, no. Not at all,” she said, not ready to address
that
issue. She couldn’t even get permission to see anyone at all, let alone someone in particular.

“Clara, we need to get to the study for our after-dinner song. Papa will be looking for us.”

Meg’s shoulders sagged at the thought of singing this evening, although they had done so most evenings after dinner, all of her sisters together, for as long as she could remember. Her mother had taught them all how to sing, to blend together in perfect harmony, and her father looked forward to it every evening he was in town. And if he wasn’t, she and her sisters usually sang at least one hymn just because they wanted to.

“I can’t do it tonight,” Meg said. “Would you please offer my apologies to Papa?”

Rose’s hand went to her mouth and her eyes flew open as she looked from Meg to Clara.

“I think it will be all right for tonight, Meg.” Clara bent down and gave Meg a quick kiss on the cheek. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

Rose squeezed Meg’s hand and walked toward the door, glancing back at her sister once before she closed the door behind her.

Meg stood and paced back and forth for a bit before she went to the window and opened it. The cool, late summer breeze ruffled her hair and she inhaled deeply, wondering if the monsoons were over for the season. It was her favorite time of the year, the evening thunderstorms feeling as if they cleansed her soul. She could use that right about now.

How could her father not be ready? She couldn’t erase his final words from her mind, no matter how many times she tried. He’d actually forbidden her from having suitors, and she just couldn’t let that happen. She was sure he’d get used to the idea once he’d thought about it. After all, he’d gotten used to Clara, and Hank coming off the trail, so why should it be different for her?

As her sisters’ voices floated on the breeze along with the scent of sage, she thought again of the conversation earlier with Sam at the Occidental. He’d put an ad in for a mail order bride and the very thought of someone else filling that role rather than her frustrated her even more.

She reached into the pocket of the dress she’d worn to lunch and pulled out the
Groom’s Gazette
that she’d picked up when everyone else was looking at the letters. Opening to the page with Sam’s advertisement, she read it slowly, out loud, and her eyes grew wide.

“I am all those things,” she said aloud. “Kind, honest, pretty enough, a hard worker, no children.”

She drew in a quick breath when she read the last line, and hadn’t noticed it before. At least she didn’t remember anyone talking about it.

A female with musical training or interest would be especially welcome.

She stood and walked to the window, listening to the last of her sisters’ songs for the evening and a smile began to play on her lips.

“I am everything he asked after,” she said, again aloud as she looked at herself in the mirror. She regarded herself carefully, deciding that she also qualified for the “pretty enough” requirement.

With a laugh, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a quill and paper. She tapped her chin as she stared at the blank page, wondering what she should write to her future husband, and after a while, her pen took over and she just wrote.

Shaking the soreness from her hand, she put the pen back in the inkwell and blew on the paper to dry the ink. She smiled with satisfaction as she folded it into an envelope and wrote, “Mr. Samuel Allen, Tombstone, Arizona,” on the outside, and blew on that until it was dry as well.

As she set it up against the mirror on the vanity, she changed into her nightdress. Her heart aflutter, she took one last look at the envelope before she got into bed, wondering what he would think—what they would all think—when they received her request. Although she’d written that she resided in Tombstone, she’d been careful to choose a name that they would not connect with her.

As she drifted off to sleep, she realized that she had no idea how she’d explain this to her father or, for that matter, explain to Samuel when she arrived as his new bride. She just knew he would choose her, and her last thought was that she’d figure out the next part of her plan in the morning.

W
ith each passing day
, Meg grew more nervous about the letter she’d sent to Sam, offering to be his mail order bride. She hadn’t heard anyone mention a thing, and she knew that Clara hadn’t been out to see Sadie and Suzanne. She was beginning to wonder if it had even gotten to him—maybe lost in the mail. If it had been lost, a letter from Tombstone to Tombstone, there was no hope.

She’d already been out to milk the cows and carefully placed the eggs Rosemary had gathered into the carriers to take into town. Her job, beyond milking the cows, was to take the extra milk, eggs and produce into town to sell, and for simplicity, she’d chosen to stick primarily with one, James and Suzanne’s mercantile. Over the course of the past year, Archer Ranch had become their best supplier, and she was happy with their arrangement, as was her father.

“You’re awfully quiet these days,” Maria said from behind her, startling her, and she groaned as the egg she’d held slid from her hand and splattered on the table.

“Maria, don’t sneak up on me like that,” Meg said to the longtime housekeeper who had also served as her and her sisters’ surrogate mother after their own had died several years ago.

Maria raised her eyebrows as she circled around in front of Meg and sat down at the table, resting her chin in her hand. “Quiet, and jumpy, too,” she said slowly as she narrowed her eyes at Meg. “What’s going on with you,
mi hija
?

Meg wiped her hands on her apron and looked up at Maria, unable to keep the smile from her lips as her heart skipped a beat. She’d always loved it when Maria used that phrase,
my daughter
in Spanish, but it wasn’t about to make her tell Maria that she’d offered to be Sam Allen’s wife.

“You’re imagining things. Nothing’s going on. I’m fine.” She hurriedly placed the remainder of the eggs in the carriers and set them in the basket, doing her best to avoid Maria’s steady gaze.

Maria cleared her throat and stood, helping Meg with the baskets as she headed toward the door. “I don’t believe you, but you know I am here whenever it’s time to talk about it.” She placed her hand on Meg’s shoulder.

Meg turned around, grateful for Maria’s kind eyes and slight smile. “Thank you, Maria, but there really isn’t anything to tell you. Nothing exciting happens in my life at all. Ever.”

“Now, Meg, that’s not true…well, maybe it’s a little true. I did hear your father say that he was not ready for you to make yourself available for suitors. I plan to educate him about young ladies and their need to find love, just like he did. You know he’s a little slow to understand these things,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she laughed.

Meg sighed and squeezed Maria’s hand before she walked out the door. “Thank you, Maria. I can use any help I can get,” Meg called over her shoulder as she carefully placed her wares in the buggy, hopped in and set off down the drive toward town.

As she was lulled by the rhythm of the horses’ hooves, she allowed herself to conjure up an image of Sam in her head, his bright eyes and welcome smile mixing with her memory of his handsome, rugged jaw and kind eyes. She pictured the two of them together, at his house by the fire as it was starting now to become chilly with fall in the air.

“Would you like some cider,” he said in her daydream, settling on the settee beside her as he offered the warm mug to her.

“Thank you.” She moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“I’m so glad that you offered to be my bride, Meg.” Her heart filled at the words as she stared at the fire, enjoying his masculine scent.

“I’d loved you long before that, Sam Allen. You just didn’t know it.”

“I can’t imagine how or why I missed that, Meg. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. I would have just courted you outright.”

“You would have? I was positive you didn’t know I existed. I was invisible, I thought,” she said, reaching up to take his hand that was wrapped over her shoulder. The warmth tugged at her heart.

“Of course I would have. You’re the only one for me. The only one I’ve ever wanted.”

She sighed with pleasure, dreaming of how it would feel to have Sam say that to her, to hold her in his arms, to look at her with love in his eyes.

“Meg, can I help you?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just enjoying the fire.”

“The fire? What fire?”

She opened her eyes and sat bolt upright as she heard Sam Allen’s voice…not just in her head, but the real voice. She felt the heat creep up her neck as she looked around, suddenly aware that the horses had taken their own course, their daily walk, straight to the mercantile.

She shaded her eyes from the sun and looked up onto the porch outside the Occidental restaurant, which was right next to the mercantile, and shook her head as she saw the object of her daydream, Sam, standing on the wooden steps, his eyebrows drawn together as he stared at her.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she squared her shoulders and replied, “Fire? Ride is what I said. I was just enjoying the ride. It’s a beautiful day.”

She looked away, hoping that her explanation hadn’t sounded too outlandish, shocked that she could have daydreamed that long on the ride into town.

She heard him laugh behind her, a sound that she’d grown very fond of. She had seen and fallen in love with Sam at the ranch, mostly, the times he’d come out to see her brother, Hank. But it was that laugh that she loved most, knowing that only a very kind and happy man could laugh like that. And even this time, she loved hearing it, even if it was at her expense.

“All right, Meg, if you say so. Need any help with the milk pails?” He reached into the back of the buggy.

“Thank you, Sam. That would be helpful. They can be very heavy. I’ll get the eggs.” She reached over into the buggy and sighed with relief as he turned toward the door of the mercantile, seemingly not intending to question her any further. She shook her head as she followed behind him, particularly grateful that she hadn’t said his name in her daydream. That would have ruined everything.

As Sam set down the pails of milk near the icebox where Suzanne had bottles prepared, Meg set the eggs down on the counter. Suzanne looked up and gave her a big smile, walking around the counter and gathering her into her arms for a hug.

“Hello, Meg. How nice to see you. I’ve been so busy getting the girls ready for school that I haven’t come to the mercantile for weeks.”

“Oh, Lily and Lucy are starting school already? I can hardly believe it,” Meg said, remembering the day the girls were born.

“I can barely believe it myself. And there’s a new teacher there, quite young, and I’m not sure how the girls will get on with him.”

“Him? The school committee hired a man?” Meg’s eyebrows tweaked at the news, as Tombstone had not had a male teacher for the school before.

“Yes, and I can see by your face that you thought the same thing I did. But he seems nice enough, and very qualified. And so far, it’s going well.”

“I had mostly male teachers when I was in school in New York,” Sam said as he left the pails of milk and came to the counter.

“Oh, is that right?” Meg said, surprised as she had had only female teachers.

“Yes, I think in the bigger towns it’s more common. If he’s qualified and kind, I don’t see that it should be an issue.” Sam leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest.

“Well, thank you for that, Sam, and I’m glad you’re here,” Suzanne said, waving an envelope in the air that she’d picked up from beside the cash register.

“Are you all right, Meg?” Sam said as she stepped slowly backward. “You’re white as a sheet.” He looked from Meg to Suzanne, who also looked concerned.

“I…I…I’m fine,” she managed, never having thought in a million years that she would be present when he opened the letter from her, asking to be his bride. Her heart had never beaten so fast before and she thought she might faint.

“You don’t look fine,” Suzanne said as she fetched a glass of water and handed it to her. Sam brought a chair and helped her sit.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. If we can just settle up for the delivery…”

“Oh, I think you should sit for a bit just in case. I’ll run next door and fetch Sadie, and we can read the letter together with Sam. Then if you’re not still feeling poorly, we can settle up and send you on your way,” Suzanne said as she headed toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Meg shook her head as she pondered her horrible luck at being stuck with her friends and Sam as he read her mail order bride letter. What if he said no? What if he didn’t want her? She could hardly bear the suspense as she looked up at Sam, noticing that he was watching her intently.

“She’ll be back in a moment, Meg. You feeling all right?”

Meg forced a smile as best she could. “Perfect,” she replied, not believing her bad fortune.