The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (7 page)

S
am and Meg
waved goodbye as Hank guided the buggy toward Archer Ranch. As they turned to go back inside, Sam touched her elbow, guiding her up the stairs of the porch, and she shivered as tingles swept through her.

“Are you cold?” Sam asked, a concerned frown appearing.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Meg replied. Even though it was beginning to get dark and a bit chilly in the crisp, late summer air, she was surprised at how warm she was—especially since Sam had touched her elbow.

As she entered the house, Sam picked up the bags Hank had delivered and Meg held the door open wide for him.

“I’ll just take these right on up to your room,” Sam said as he started upstairs. Meg wasn’t sure if she should follow him or not, as she hadn’t had a tour of the house yet and still felt a little like she was trespassing.

She turned to go into the parlor and stopped just inside as she noticed a big, white sheet covering something that appeared to be a very large piece of furniture.

Glancing around the room, she didn’t see any other pieces of furniture covered and, intrigued, she peeked around the corner to make sure Sam was still upstairs as she slowly lifted the sheet on one corner of whatever it was.

As she pulled back the fabric a little further, past the rich mahogany at the base of the piece, she gasped in surprise and her hand flew to her mouth. The flicker of the lantern was reflected in a row of ivory—a piano!

Meg quickly dropped the sheet as if it had burned her and tucked it under the foot of the piano, as close to the way she’d found it as she could remember.

A piano! She did remember Sam saying that he could read music, and now she knew why. She had grown up with music, her mother an accomplished pianist, and she and her sisters had sung to her mother’s accompaniment almost up until she died. On the very last night before she passed, the girls had gathered around her in her room, and sang
Amazing Grace
a capella for the first time as Katie was unable to play the piano any longer, and it was a moment she’d never forget. Music was part of her soul, and her gift, she knew.

Why would he have the piano covered up? He’d asked in his advertisement for someone with musical knowledge or interest. If he loved music as she did, it was just one more check on the list of things she loved about him.

“All right, you ready to get started?” Meg turned to the staircase as Sam came downstairs and walked into the parlor. He sat opposite the settee where she was sitting, and even though she was on a mission, she wished he had chosen to sit beside her. Someday.

“Get started? Oh, getting to know each other,” he said. He crossed his legs, his ankle on his knee as he sat back in his chair and smiled.

“Well, yes. We have to do this systematically.” Meg handed Sam a blank piece of paper and quill that she’d retrieved from the small desk in the parlor while he was upstairs. “I hope you don’t mind. We need paper.”

“What do you have in mind,” he asked, his brow raised as he looked at her.

“I thought it might be helpful if we each wrote down the major points in our lives, things that a spouse of a couple of years might know about the other. Then, when we’re finished, we can exchange them and study them. Maybe even ask each other questions.”

“Like a test in school?” Sam asked, his smile widening.

Meg looked up quickly, anxious to see if he was making fun of her like Hank usually did. She saw only amusement in his eyes, along with interest.

“Sort of, I suppose, although I wasn’t the best student in the world. I always wanted to be outside, or singing.”

“Singing?” he said, frowning. “You have music training? I know that I mentioned that in my ad, but we hadn’t had a chance to discuss it.”

“In fact, yes, I do. My mother was an accomplished pianist and I learned to sing and all about vocal harmonies from her.”

Sam smiled, but Meg felt it wasn’t a happy smile—more melancholy. She looked from Sam to the piano, and decided that her first night as his bride might not be the best time to ask him about something that appeared to be painful. It could wait at least until tomorrow.

“That’s very nice. An appreciation of music is quite a…gift,” he said as he glanced quickly at the piano. Or at the sheet that covered the piano.

Meg couldn’t stop the yawn that came, and covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle it, fatigue flooding over her all at once.

Sam stood and said, “I should have thought how tired you must be. Are you hungry for supper? We could then just retire early.”

“Honestly, I’m not a bit hungry between the late feast and our tea. Are you? I could make you something.”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s been quite a long day and I’m happy to retire, as well.”

“It’s still a little early,” Meg said, glancing toward the grandfather clock that was just about to strike seven o’clock. “What if we each retire to our rooms and finish the assignment, so in the morning we’ll be ready to start studying the answers?”

Sam’s eyes twinkled as he held out his arm to walk her upstairs. “Assignment, is it?”

She was flustered for a moment, then realized that he was now, in fact, teasing her.

“I suppose, yes, an assignment. We want to be successful at appearing to be a happy, long-married couple when your mother arrives, don’t we? This should do the trick.”

“Yes, yes, that is the goal, I’m afraid. And tomorrow, I have to figure out some way to convince her that I have a job other than as a bartender, too.”

“There’s always James and Suzanne to ask.”

“Yes, and a few more friendly offers from friends. I’ll explain over breakfast. Meet you in the kitchen around sun-up? Do you get up that early?”

Meg laughed…her job milking cows and collecting eggs for the past few years had trained her that early to bed and early to rise was in her best interests. A necessity, actually.

“Of course. I’m an early riser and truthfully enjoy it.”

“Hmm…as a bartender I am definitely
not
and early riser, but I’ve been practicing a change of habits for the time my mother is here. I’m just fortunate that Tripp found a replacement for me. I would have hated to leave him with no one to tend bar.”

Meg hadn’t considered that Samuel would have to leave his job for his mother’s stay. It appeared that things were a little more complicated than she anticipated.

“That will be fine,” she said as Samuel stopped in front of a door that she assumed was her room. The long hallway had two doors on each side, rather large for a house in town, and she looked forward to her tour the next day.

“I’ve left warm water in a basin there for you on the vanity. At least it was warm when I did it.” He laughed and stuck his finger in the basin, frowning as he removed it. “Not so warm now. Would you like something warmer?”

Meg went to the basin and lowered her finger in as well. The water was tepid, not cold, so she said, “It’s fine. Thank you. It was thoughtful of you.”

Sam shook his head as he set the last of her bags at the foot of her bed. “It’s the least I can do, Meg. Thank you again for helping me with this. If there’s anything I can get you, I’m right next door.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Sam closed the door behind him. “And good night,” she said under her breath, looking around at her new home.

Her heart beat a little faster as it struck her that this really
was
her home now. She shook any sadness out of her head and sat down at the vanity, raised her pen and started on her list for her new husband, anxious to see what he’d written by tomorrow.

M
eg pulled
the papers out of the pocket of her coat and opened them, spreading them carefully on her lap. Sam’s eyes left the road ahead as he guided the buggy and he laughed as he spotted the lists of their answers they’d written the night before.

Breakfast had been a surprise—she’d enjoyed the breakfast he’d made, simple as it was. He’d had it all prepared and on the table when she’d come down after a good night’s sleep—and over their porridge and ham, they’d read each other’s lists, each laughing periodically. She had to admit, when she’d read that he’d never courted anyone before, she couldn’t keep her eyebrows from lifting, and when she’d learned that he hated his glasses and had been called “four-eyes” in school, her heart tugged in sympathy. All around, though, she felt that she knew a great deal more about her husband than she had the night before. Now if she could only remember all of it.

As they finished reading their exchanged lists, Sam had said, “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you, but we’re expected at the mercantile at nine o’clock, just after it opens. Do you know it?”

Meg laughed, thinking of the hundreds of days she’d brought milk and eggs to them.

Sam turned sharply at her laugh with a frown that quickly turned to a smile. “Oh, of course you do. I knew that.”

“That’s a perfect example of why we need to practice these questions and answers until we know them well and could recite them in our sleep.”

“Hm…I’m not sure that’s going to happen, but we can sure try. We have time for a few before we need to leave for the mercantile.”

They’d practiced for a bit, woefully failing the tests so far, and now that they’d gotten changed and into the buggy, Meg thought it might be a good idea to try again. Sam’s mother’s visit was looming, and she wanted to make sure it went well—at least on her end.

“So, how old am I?” Meg asked, starting with one that she thought would be simple.

“Ah, I think…ah…”

“Samuel Allen, that should be the simplest one on the page,” Meg said, laughing and shaking her head.

“Yes, it should be, but you look much younger than your years,” he said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not old enough for that to be a compliment yet.” She nudged him with her elbow and proceeded to the next question. “All right, let’s try a really easy one. How many sisters do I have?”

“Five. I do know that, because Hank always talked about his six sisters. But wait, I need to know the answer to the first question.”

“Which should have been as simple as the first. I’m twenty-two.”

“And I am…” He turned to her and winked.

“I must have been paying better attention. You’re twenty-five.”

“Well, shoot, that was a pretty easy one.” He turned back to the road as Meg asked more questions, the majority of which he got wrong, her number of correct answers much higher.

As Sam pulled up to the mercantile, she folded the papers and placed them safely back into her pocket. “You can escape for now, but we need to practice again later.”

Sam groaned as he tied the reins to a hitching post and came around to help Meg down.

Meg frowned as her feet touched the ground. “You don’t want to know more about me?”

Sam took her hand and squeezed gently. “That’s not the case at all, Meg. I’m enjoying this very much. It’s just as my mother’s arrival gets closer, I realize that this is going to be a very challenging visit. And now I’ve gotten someone else involved as well. Someone I actually care about,” he said as he turned to open the door of the mercantile.

Meg’s mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly as he turned to her and smiled. Had the most handsome, kind and interesting man she’d ever met just say he cared about her?

She chalked that up on her “hopeful” side of the marriage list as she walked into the mercantile, past his extended arm, and smiled as Suzanne rushed to hug her.

James shook Sam’s hand as Sam removed his hat and hung it by the door.

“Different coming in here without pails of milk and baskets of eggs,” Meg said to Suzanne.

“I can imagine, my dear,” Suzanne said as she pulled Meg over to the counter. “I’m waiting for the delivery from Archer Ranch right now, and not at all sure who’s going to bring it.”

A pang of guilt struck Meg. Who
would
do what had been her job for years? And she hadn’t even had the opportunity to train anyone, or tell them what to do.

“I can see what you’re thinking, Meg. Whoever they send, I’ll help them, teach them about the billing. Don’t worry.”

Meg cast a grateful look Suzanne’s way, glad that she’d read her mind.

As James and Sam approached, Suzanne said, “So, have you told him our idea?”

“I have, and he can tell you himself what he thinks.”

Sam shifted from one foot to the other, his cheeks a little pink, Meg noticed.

“Suzanne, I’m feeling pretty bad that I’ve gotten everyone I know into a bad situation. Everyone’s going to end up pretending if we do this.”

“Do what, Sam?” Meg said, confused.

Suzanne smiled at her husband and turned to Meg. “We had talked casually before you came along about the possibility of Sam telling his mother that the mercantile was his business. That way, he’d be married
and
have a business.”

“Oh, goodness.” Meg looked at Sam as he shuffled his feet, staring at his shoes. They’d beaten Meg and Sam, coming to the same conclusion that it might work for everyone. They hadn’t even had the opportunity to suggest it first.

“And now that you’ve come along, Meg, with your experience here at the mercantile, we are very comfortable with the idea. We trust you implicitly, and the inventory and ordering of supplies has been done for the month. It’s a good time.” James shoved his hands in his pockets, obviously pleased with his proposal as he rocked from heel to toe.

“I’m quite flattered,” Meg said. “Sam, what do you think?”

Suzanne came around the counter and put her arm through Sam’s. “I’ve heard you say a few times that you feel bad, but please don’t. We’ve offered, no strings attached. It actually sounds fun, really. Something different, anyway, and think of the celebration when we all pull it off.”

“Meg, you think we can do this?” Sam smiled gratefully at Suzanne.

“Of course, I do. In for a penny, in for a pound…and it looks like we’re all in for a pound,” Meg said and her eyes twinkled when everyone laughed.

She meant every word of it. If she was going to make this work out and please Sam and his mother, she was going to do whatever it took to make it happen. And the mercantile was the best of their available options…actually, as far as she knew, it was their
only
option.

“Good, then. It’s settled.” Suzanne walked Sam over to the small office behind the mercantile’s main room. “It won’t take long for me to show you two how to keep records, and that’s all you’ll need to do.”

“You…you aren’t staying with us?” Sam had turned an odd shade of pale.

“The store will be closed on Sunday, the first day she arrives,” Suzanne said, glancing at James. “And on Monday, we can be close by. We thought maybe Tuesday and Wednesday we’d take the girls up to Tucson for a last little vacation before school begins the following Monday. The back to school fair is this Saturday and we’ve decided to close up as so many will be at the fair. Can you believe it’s time for school to start again? Time has flown by.”

James leaned against the doorway to the small office, his tall frame filling it. “So that would leave you alone for only two days. I believe you said she’s only staying a week, Sam?”

“Yes, that’s right. That’s what she said. So if we can all just survive for a week, I suppose that won’t be too bad.”

“There, Sam, see? It’s all going to work out perfectly.” Sam turned to Meg, not appearing to be convinced at all that it would work out—perfectly or otherwise.

“Thank you, James and Suzanne. I am truly grateful and will find a way to repay your kindness sometime.”

“Think nothing of it.” James clapped Sam on the back as he led him out into the main room. “If you two have some time now, I can show you around the store and Suzanne can go over the books with Meg. It seems to be pretty quiet today.”

“That’s a fine idea, James.” Suzanne moved a chair over to the desk and motioned for Meg to sit down. “Just for a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure?” Meg whispered to Suzanne once the men were out of earshot.

“I am, truly. James and I always like to help, and as I said, I trust you. You could run the store on your own, if needed, you’ve been coming here for so long. What I don’t quite understand, and no one’s been willing to ask, is why it matters so much that he not disappoint his mother. He’s never struck me as someone who’d worry too much about that. He’s always been confident, his own man.”

Meg peered through the doorway at Sam, who was paying rapt attention to James’s explanation of the small boxes of hardware.

She turned back to Suzanne and patted her pockets, feeling the paper that might hold some answers to that question. Or at least an inkling.

“I don’t know yet, but trust me. If there’s a way to find out, I will.”

Meg’s smile faded as Suzanne stood and looked past her, over her shoulder and her eyes grew wide. “Meg, I don’t know how to tell you this…”

Suzanne’s voice trailed off, and Meg’s heart thudded in her chest as she turned around and looked straight into the eyes of her father.