The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (6 page)

T
he wedding
itself had been short and sweet, and Meg could hardly believe how fast she’d become a married woman. Her sisters had all cried, nonetheless. Even Hank had sniffled once or twice, and now that it was all over, Meg was happy that they’d all been there. Even with her father’s fit of anger, it had turned out to be a happy day after all.

After everyone had eaten and wished them well in their new marriage, Sam and Meg had left for his house, Hank having agreed to bring her bags after she’d told him where she’d hidden them.

Hank had shaken his head slowly before he gave her a big hug. “I should have been listening better, Meg. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.”

“Oh, Hank, please don’t feel that way,” she’d told him. “It all worked out, see? Papa will come around, and everyone will be happy. I promise.”

Now, as they pulled up in front of Sam’s white house in town, Meg saw it with new eyes and was once again positive that she would be happy. And as Sam tied the buggy to the post and stepped around to help her down, she vowed to do anything and everything in her power to make him happy, too.

Sam had been very quiet at the reception and hadn’t said more than two words on the ride from the Occidental to his house. She felt horrible about her father’s outburst, so she thought it best to just let things be and was quiet herself.

As Sam opened the door and extended his arm into the house for her to precede him, she decided it was time that they begin getting to know each other better. She hoped that he’d recovered a bit from the surprise and would be able to see that this had been the best thing for everyone.

Sam helped her with her coat and hung it on a pretty oak rack just to the side of the front door. He removed his hat and coat and hung them beside hers.

“I…I suppose I should give you a tour of the house,” he said slowly as he glanced around the parlor.

Meg sighed and took his hand, pulling him into the kitchen. “Let me make us some tea, first, and we can talk,” she said and began to open cupboards and scout out some tea.

He walked to a shelf at the far end of the kitchen and reached up for a lovely ceramic container, painted with white flowers on a blue background.

Meg felt suddenly uncomfortable, wishing he would say something, not exactly sure what she could do. “That’s a lovely container,” she said, and chastised herself silently for not thinking of something more clever.

Sam looked at the container as if he’d never seen it before and then looked back at her. “It was my grandmother’s. I guess it is pretty.”

He put the lid back on the jar and placed it on the shelf. Meg set the teakettle she’d filled on the stove as Sam stoked the fire.

Sam pulled out a chair for Meg at the kitchen table, and scooted her in as she sat. He paced for a moment as he fiddled with the teapot.

Meg sat quietly, her hands in her lap, watching him. She wished it could be like before, when Sam would visit Hank at the ranch and they’d all sit around drinking lemonade, laughing and talking. That’s what she’d loved most about Sam, then—he was always on the brink of laughing. Now, she wondered where that Sam had gone.

Finally, she could stand the silence no longer and said, “Sam, I know this has been a pretty big surprise, but I really did do this because I wanted to, and I’m hoping that we do a good job of it and that your mother is happy for her stay.” What she didn’t say was that she hoped by the time her new mother-in-law returned to New York, Sam would have realized how perfect they were for each other.

He sighed as he poured the boiling water into the teapot and sat down opposite her at the table, his thumbs resting in his suspenders. He held Meg’s eyes until she could look no longer, and she lowered her head as she twisted the hem of her jacket.

“I appreciate that, Meg, I really do. I feel pretty stupid that I’ve even gotten myself in this fix, and couldn’t think of any other way to get out of it.” He stood and brought mugs, sugar and cream to the table. He wrapped a dishtowel around the handle of the teapot and set it on the table as well.

“Let me pour, please,” Meg said as she took hold of the dishtowel and poured them two full mugs of tea. “Cream and sugar?” she asked, picking up the sugar spoon.

“No, none for me, thank you. I prefer it with nothing. Coffee, too.”

She poured a dash of cream in her mug and two teaspoons of sugar before she stirred her tea. “So, when is she coming, and what do we need to do? I actually think it’s quite a sweet and kind thing you’re doing, and I am happy to help in any way I can.”

Sam picked up his cup of tea and blew on it for a moment. “She’s arriving on Sunday.”

Meg gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “So soon? Oh, goodness. There’s so much to do before then.”

“To do?” Sam said. “Well, I suppose I do need to find a business of some kind. This is getting pretty complicated.”

“I’ve actually given it some thought. I wondered if maybe James and Suzanne might like to take some time off before the girls get much older. I have experience buying and selling, and for a few days, we could go to work at the mercantile. Even if they don’t want to leave town, your mother would likely believe that you own it.”

She set her mug of tea down with a satisfied grin, pleased with her plan and the smile on his face.

“That just could work, Meg,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I think James and Suzanne trust us both enough to let us in the shop, and that would be a wonderful business as far as my mother was concerned.”

“Splendid! Now there are some other things we need to think about.”

Sam tilted his head to one side, and she sensed his confusion. “Think about this, Sam. If your mother believes we’ve been married for—how long did you say she thinks it’s been?”

“Two years.” He groaned and let his head fall into his hands.

“Now, don’t despair. We just need to use this time wisely.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Sam said as he looked up.

“If your mother believes that we’ve been married for two years, we ought to know quite a bit more about each other than we do now.”

“I certainly don’t think she will quiz us, Meg,” he said, pouring himself another cup of tea.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Of course she won’t, but if you want this to be believable, it needs to appear that I’ve lived here longer than two days. I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen, for one thing. I wouldn’t have been able to even offer her a cup of tea, not knowing where things are kept.”

Sam looked around the kitchen, from the sink to the polished oak cabinets. “I suppose you’re right about that. It would be more believable.”

“And don’t you think that I would know about important things concerning my husband? Childhood injuries, maybe, or where you’ve lived? And I’m afraid you should learn the same things about me.”

“I did fall out of a tree when I was ten and broke my arm. I suppose you would know something like that and wouldn’t be surprised if it came up. It still bothers me sometimes.”

Meg laughed and stirred her second cup of tea. “Exactly what I mean. And I got my finger stuck in a stable door when I was a girl and it’s a bit crooked.” She held up her finger and smiled as Sam looked intently at her, searching for signs of her injury.

“I don’t see anything. I should go get my glasses.”

Meg clapped her palms on the table. “See, that’s another thing. I had no idea you wear glasses. I’ve never seen you with any on.”

Sam smiled as he stood and reached for a set of spectacles on the counter. He put them on, wrapping the wire around his ears, and Meg noticed the color creep into his cheeks.

“I try not to wear them very much. I had to get them as a boy to read small print. Music, mostly.”

Sam chuckled as Meg clasped her hands together over her chest. “You read music?”

He frowned and pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning against. “Maybe we don’t need to know everything about each other,” he said as he picked up the empty mugs and placed them in the sink.

Meg wondered why reading music would be a delicate topic, but it clearly was. She made a mental note to find out more about it somehow, even if not from him.

“Well, we’re off to a good start,” she said as she wrapped a dishtowel around her waist and tucked it into her skirt in preparation for cleaning the dishes. “At least now I know you like your tea black.”

He smiled and nodded. “And I know you take cream and two sugars.”

She turned around, laughing, happy that he had noticed what she liked in her tea. Another spark of encouragement. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. “

“I suppose I feel bad about your father. To be honest, I’m actually honored that you would consider this, helping me out. My mother means the world to me, and she would be heartbroken if she found out I was a bartender—and unmarried, at that.”

Meg circled around the table and sat back down across from Sam. “I believe she will be fine, Sam. Please, trust me.”

His look of uncertainty could be expected, she knew. Although Sam had been a friend of her brother’s for a while and had spent a fair amount of time at the ranch, he would really have no way of knowing how recently the grief surrounding the loss of Katie Archer, Meg’s mother, had lifted. It was yet another blow for her father, she knew, but she still had faith that she’d done the right thing.

His eyes met hers, and she smiled the most reassuring smile she could muster. This was going to work out, and she wouldn’t allow her father to put a wedge in her new marriage.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, nodded his head and said, “All right, Meg. If you say so. I’ll trust you on this one.”

She clapped and walked back over to the sink. “Good. I know I’m right. Let me get the dishes cleaned up and then maybe take a look at the house? Hank should be here soon with my things, and I’d like to be able to tell him where to take them.”

“Oh, right. I’ll just go make some final preparations while you do that.”

As Sam left the kitchen, Meg turned back to the sink, going over the day in her mind. It had resulted in the marriage she had wanted, but hadn’t turned out at all how she’d daydreamed it would. She thought of her father as she gazed out the window of her new home and watched the birds play in the birdbath Sam had in his small garden. She wondered what he was doing, and how supper would be tonight at the ranch with all of them around the table, her chair empty, and a hint of sorrow tugged at her heart.

She set the last dish on the counter to dry and shook the thought out of her head. She wiped her hands on her makeshift apron, anticipating the arrival of her own when Hank turned up. No, this was her home now. Best get used to it as fast as she could.

M
eg had just hung
the dishtowel she’d used for an apron on the hook by the sink when she heard voices outside on the porch. She peeked out the window and saw one of her family’s buggies, the one Hank used most, and she was surprised at how comforting it was to hear her big brother’s voice. It had been a strange, emotional day, after all, and she walked toward the front door to join them.

“Hank, I had no idea,” she heard Sam say to her brother, and she drew her hand back from the doorknob, not exactly wanting to eavesdrop but not wanting to interrupt, either.

“That was pretty clear from your face when you realized it was Meg.” Hank chuckled and Meg smiled to herself. What must have gone through all of their minds when they realized? She didn’t even want to know. She had enough to worry about in her own head.

“Are you…we…all right that we went through with it?” Sam asked his longtime friend. Meg’s heart swelled with the understanding that Sam had concern for his relationship with Hank, and she thought it admirable.

“Sam, it was completely unexpected, even a shock I will say. But as I’ve had time to think about it, it’s all coming together in my head. I haven’t been listening much to Meg lately, and I guess I should have.”

Meg gasped and her heart leapt into her throat as she listened to Hank’s confession. It sounded a lot like it was going to turn into
her
confession about her feelings for Sam, which she was in no way ready to reveal. She reached hastily for the knob and swung the door open just as Hank said, “She’s been talking about—”

“Oh, Hank, thank you so much for bringing my things,” Meg said as fast as she could, hoping to stop the words that she knew were coming next.

“Hello, Meg.” Hank stopped mid-sentence and turned toward her, taking off his hat and looking at her curiously, cocking his head to one side and squinting his eyes.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she said as her hand rose to her cheek.

Hank laughed and clapped Sam on the back. “I was just trying to see if you looked any different now that you’re a married woman.”

Meg drew in a sharp breath as her face turned scarlet, she was sure. All she wanted to do was push Hank into a puddle, but she thought maybe a married woman wouldn’t do that.

“Hank, it’s only been a few hours,” she said through her embarrassment and looked at Sam, her eyes pleading with him to say something.

She caught his smile before he could wipe it away, and she felt a little better when he turned to Hank and said, “Uh, just so you know, we’ve discussed this and although Meg will be staying here during my mother’s visit, she has a separate room and there will be no…uh…”

Sam cleared his throat and Hank said, “Thank you for that, Sam. I realize it’s none of my business, but under the circumstances, that might make Pa feel a little better.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Meg said, her eyes widening. Her pride was stung that her personal life was up for discussion with everyone.

“What, you don’t want me to? He’s still reeling, and not sure why you would do such a thing.”

Meg turned as footsteps sounded on the wooden porch steps.

“Let’s sit on the porch if we’re going to talk for a bit. I’ll be back with some lemonade,” Sam said, gesturing to the porch swing and heading inside.

As the door shut behind Sam, Hank and Meg sat down. She turned to her brother, her heart swelling with affection for him, memories flashing through her mind of the last few years at Archer Ranch.

“Hank, you know how hard it’s been for the last few years, since Mama died.” Meg rested her hand on her brother’s arm.

Hank let out a sigh and passed his hand along the rim of his hat as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I sure do. Pa’s a little better, but things are still tough. It was a miracle he came around with Clara, wanting everything to stay the same.”

“Exactly. And I know it hasn’t been very long, and you probably haven’t even gotten over the surprise of me being a bride yet. But you know the family. You know our history. Do you think for one minute that Papa would have willingly let me move on with my own life? Accept another loss of that magnitude?”

Hank sat up and looked at his sister, and she thought she saw understanding in his eyes. “I wish I could say I was surprised the other night when he wouldn’t even agree to allow suitors. I had planned to see if I could talk to him about it, but there hadn’t been a good time yet.”

Meg’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Do you think it would have helped?”

“Well, no, I guess not.”

“I don’t either. It was going to be a long, long road to get him to agree with that. And while I don’t exactly want Sam to know yet, I had been interested in him anyway. He’s the one I was trying to talk to you about. So when all this came up, my agreeing to be his bride seemed like the fastest, simplest way to…well, to get Papa to see that it’s only a matter of time before I was married. Before we
all
were married. If I’d waited for him to agree, I’d have been an old maid before—”

“I know, I know. I do understand, and Clara does, too.”

“Thank you, Hank. I really did…do…want this. Papa will come around and Sam will, too, and we’ll live happily ever after. You’ll see.”

“Meg, I have to say you’ve always been determined to get what you want. I sure hope this time isn’t an exception.”

“It won’t be, I’m sure of it.”

Hank patted his sister’s knee and stood. “And who knows? You might be the next one with twins.”

The blood drained from Meg’s face as she contemplated what Hank had said and Sam returned from the house.

“Did he say something about twins?” Sam set down the tray of lemonade as Hank walked over unhitched the buggy. “I think so,” Meg mumbled, suddenly aware of all the things she
hadn’t
thought through with her new plan.