The Christmas Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides, Book One) (6 page)

Summer again looke
d to the ceiling above her head and whispered,  “Thank you, thank you for bringing me here.  Please show me how to be a good wife to Mr. Riley because I don’t know the first thing about it.”

She lowered her eyes and stared at the cookie in her hand. “But I can learn.  I can learn everything I need to know to make a good wife.  Please help me to do so!”

Summer didn’t want to feel defeated.  She’d made it this far and was now determined to be the best wife she could be for Clayton Riley.  But would her best be good enough? She began to tick off a mental checklist of her gifts and talents.  She could mend a little at least.  The orphans at Winslow didn’t have fancy clothes and were constantly tearing the threadbare clothes they did have.  She’d noticed how threadbare Clayton’s shirts were in places.  Did he not have money enough to buy new ones?  She made a mental note of it.  She could of course keep a house clean, any idiot could do that.  She knew how to make a few things like oatmeal and soup.  Winslow wasn’t known for its fancy food that was for certain, so she hadn’t learned to make much else other than sandwiches.  Let’s see, what else did a wife do?

Summer audibly gulped when she suddenly remembered
exactly
what else a wife did! 
Oh, that!
Yes, well, she certainly didn’t have any experience in that department! What if he was disappointed in her?  She knew absolutely nothing of… of… oh drat! 
That
was certainly something she wouldn’t be able to learn before hand either!

Summer sighed, finish
ed her cookie and milk, then laid her head against the pillow.  In moments she forgot all her worries and troubles for the time being as sleep quickly overcame her.  She wanted to dream of being a good wife, she wanted to dream of being someone special in Clayton Riley’s eyes.  Instead, she had only nightmares.

Six

She screamed.

Clayton threw the silverware onto the table he was setting and ran for the study.  He nearly knocked his mother off her feet as she came running from the kitchen. “I’ll handle this,” he told her before he burst into the room.

Miss James was sitting up in bed, her face bathed in sweat, her eyes wide as she shook with terror.  Clayton didn’t think at first, he only reacted.  “Miss James!” He said as he went to the bed and took her into his arms.  “What happened?” He instinctively scanned the room for anything amiss, but there was nothing. “We heard you scream,” he said, his voice even, controlled.  The lawman was back.

She looked up at
him, tears in her eyes, then quickly turned her face away.  Good Lord!  What had she been dreaming?  It was the only explanation.  He certainly hoped whatever sort of nightmare she’d just had wasn’t because of him! 

“It’s … it’s nothing. I’m all right.  I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

He tucked a finger under her chin and made her look at him again.  “Nothing?  That scream wasn’t about nothing!” he told her firmly. 

She tried to look away again but he held her fast. “Please,” she began.  “Just leave me.  I’ll be fine.”

He turned toward the door.  His mother was still standing in it.  “Ma, I’ll bring her to the supper table but give us a few moments, will you?”

Mrs. Riley looked them both over carefully before she nodded her agreement and left the room. As soon as she was gone, Clayton turned back to the woman in his arms.  “You know if we’re going to be man and wife then you’re going to have to talk to me about things.”

Her eyes, which had been glued to the desk beside the bed, slowly found their way to his.  She swallowed hard and he could not only see, but felt the tension in her jaw. “Things?” She said in a low voice.

“Yep, things.  Like why you left New Orleans in such a hurry. I may not be an expert at this mail order bride business, but even I know what you did had to hav
e been done pretty quick like.”
She closed her eyes and he could tell by the sudden pink of her cheeks she was hiding something. “Well?” He began in a soft voice.  “Are you gonna tell me why you’re so gosh darn scared right now?”

Her eyes opened and
she looked straight into his.  There was such vulnerability harbored in them, a hopelessness mixed with, of all things, hope.  As if he were that hope.  What could have possibly happened to her? “Whatever it is,” he began. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Her eyes widened.

“I understand that some women use a mail order bride service because they’re … well they’re running from something. You … you haven’t gone and broke the law now have ya?  I’d hate to be the one to have to haul you in.  How would that look to folks?”

Her face drained of color and her jaw was once again tight.

He’d better think of something fast. “Besides, no one want’s to eat wedding cake in a jail!  I can hear the old biddies in town complaining already!”

A tiny smile curved her mouth.  Clayton stared at it a moment … her sweet, delicious, little mouth.  Now
he
had to swallow and didn’t wonder if his face had drained of color.  Good Lord but she was beautiful!  It seemed as though every time he looked at her he saw more and more of the beauty she possessed.

“It’s not what you think,” she said. “I haven’t broken any laws.”

“Well that’s good to hear!”  And he had to admit, he was glad she said it.  Though it wasn’t enough to satisfy him and he still planned to check a few things.  For now he wouldn’t question her further. His mother was waiting for them and Spencer would be coming in from the barn at any moment.  But later they would finish this conversation and he was going to find out what happened to her if it was the last thing he did.  He wasn’t about to head into any sort of marriage until he got to the bottom of it. “You ready for supper, Miss James?”

She looked up at him and without saying a word, nodded.

“All right then, hang on to me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up from the bed and stood.  He then carried her into supper.

* * *

Summer sat in silence as the rest of the Riley family seated themselves around the table.   Clayton said the blessing and soon the meal was underway.  No one spoke for a few moments as the food was passed and each of them served themselves.  She was a little surprised when Clayton, instea
d of passing the small platter of pot roast to her, served her himself.  He then without saying a word, cut her meat for her as if it was the most natural thing for him to do.  She watched as his brother Spencer did the same for their mother.  She’d never seen such a thing and had to consciously close her mouth when it began to hang open.

“Miss James,” Mrs. Riley began. “Oh but what am I doing calling you that?  You’re going to be my daughter in law after all!  Now Summer, about your wedding dress, I understand you haven’t a thing to wear.”

“Ma, can’t that wait?  She’s in no shape for marrying yet.” Clayton was quick to interject.

“I know that dear, but making a dress takes time, and we have to get started right away!  By the
time I’m done making it her foot should be good enough to stand on.”

Summer’s eyes darted back and forth between mother and son.

“Abbey Davis will help.” Spencer said between mouthfuls.  “You know how she likes to sew all that fancy stuff.”

“Yes
, but her mother … well …
you
know how she gives me a headache!”  Mrs. Riley lamented.  “I can’t work like that and besides Abbey will talk poor Summer’s ears off!”

Summer stopped chewing all together.  She was hoping to be able to enjoy the meal (which was fabulous so far) and not have to talk, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.  She peeked
sideways at Clayton who looked like he was equally hoping to get through the meal in peace but …

“M
a!  No more talk of dresses, wedding cakes, or flowers while we’re eating.”

Mrs. Riley’s eyes lit up.  “Oh I completely forgot about the cake!  Why thank you Clayton.  Be sure to stop by the Anderson’s on your way to the jail tomorrow morning and see if Mrs. Anderson wouldn’t mind hand
ling the baking. She’s so much better at decorating a cake than I am.”

Clayton’s mouth hung open as
he looked at his mother.  “Stop,” was the only word to escape him before he took another bit of his dinner.

“But…” she began.

“No!  No more!  Besides, let Miss James decide on these things, it
is
her wedding after all, not to mention mine.”

Summer chewed slowly.  My but the mashed potatoes were good!  She never had anything so good at Winslow!

“Yes, I know that dear,” Mrs. Riley began. “But I figured, what with her injury and all, that she’d not want to have to think about the details. I was just trying to help.”

Summer took another bit of p
ot roast and continued to watch. Maybe if she were quiet enough no one would actually talk
to
her.  They’d just keep talking
about
her.

“I know, ma. But … I’ve had a rough few days, and … well I’m not much up to talking about any of it right now.  Besides, who knows when the wedding will be.”
Summer’s mouth stilled as a chill went through her body.  Had he changed his mind?  Was he not going to set a time for their wedding because he thought she might be lying to him about never being in trouble with the law?  How could she tell him about the horrors of leaving Winslow?  What would he think of her?  But what did a small time Sheriff know of the evils of a city like New Orleans?  What would he think of the life that awaited her if she went back?  How easy it was for one of her lot to be forced into such a shameful state of being?

“All right Clayton, you win.  I’ll speak no more of it tonight. But it
does
need to be discussed!”  Mrs. Riley stated as her usual happy face transformed into one of disappointment. She looked around the table then grumbled, “land sakes, at the rate you’re moving the two of you will be lucky to be married by Christmas!”

Summer swallowed her food and too
k in the acute disappointment on Mrs. Riley’s face as she poked at her mashed potatoes. Perhaps the woman was right.  Maybe she and Clayton wouldn’t be married until Christmas.  She hid a smile.  Summer had always hoped, always dreamed she would be married on Christmas day!  It was a silly thing really, the fancy of a young child who used to wish such a thing would happen but knew it never would.  What were the chances?  Christmas was over a month away.  Surely her foot would be healed before then and besides, if Mrs. Riley had her way, they’d be married before Thanksgiving! Though she wanted to marry Clayton, (it was why she was there after all) the thought of a Christmas wedding still teased her heart. Summer sighed.

“Is something wrong
dear?”  Mrs. Riley asked.

Summer looked up.  All eyes
were upon her.  “Oh … why … no, every thing’s wonderful Mrs. Riley.  Thank you.”

“Oh I won’t stand for being called Mrs. Riley,” she admonished with a smile.

“Ma…” Clayton began.

“Now you shush, Clayton!  Summer is going to be my daughter in law and she might as well get used to calling me ma just as you two boys do!”

Another chill went up
Summer’s spine.  So, he didn’t want her to call his mother “ma”.  Maybe he
was
planning on sending her back!  Tears suddenly stung the back of her eyes but Summer bit the inside of her mouth to keep them at bay.

“Ma!”

“Don’t you
ma
me young man!  There is nothing wrong with Summer calling me that!”

Spencer let go a soft snicker from across the table.

“You shut up.” Clayton warned.

“I wasn’t going to say a thing!” Spencer said in his defense. “Besides, I agree with ma.”

“We’re not married yet.” Clayton said as he stood up and left the table.

Summer trembled as cold seeped into her heart.  At this rate she’d be lucky if she got married at all.  What was wrong with the man?  Why was he tender at times, then so suddenly cranky when
their wedding was discussed?

“He’ll be back,” Spencer said.  “Don’t worry.”

“Are … are you sure your brother wants to marry me?”  Summer couldn’t believe she’d asked it.

“Of course he wants to marry you!” Mrs. Riley quickly said.  “He’s just got cold feet like all prospective husbands do.  That and Clayton can be a perfectionist.  He likes everything his way but I can teach you how to handle him.  You just bake him up a pie or cake and he’ll be like putty in your hands!”

“He did have it rough while he was chasing those outlaws,” Spencer told her. “It’s hard to watch your men get shot up like the ones riding with Clayton did.  He’s worried about them, that’s all.”

Summer took in his words.  How would she feel if some of
her fellow orphans had been harmed?  How worried would she be?  Would nuptials be the foremost thing on her mind?  She didn’t think so!  She began to understand why Clayton was acting the way he was.  Spencer was right.  She needed to let Clayton Riley take care of business first and worry about the wedding details later.

Besides, there were more than wedding details on his mind,
of that Summer had no doubt, her true origins and what happened in New Orleans being the foremost.  How long would it be before he cornered her in her little room and asked … no…
demanded
to know?  Of course the right thing to do would be to tell him the truth.  But what if he was disgusted by it?  What would he think of a dirty orphan girl who had no choice but to marry him?

“Ma, where’s the pie?” Clayton’s voice yelled from the kitchen.

  Spencer laughed and winked at
Summer. “He always gets a sweet tooth when he’s nervous or upset.”

“What is he upset about?”
She asked as she listened to the sounds of Clayton banging around in the other room.

“Oh now don’t you go thinking you had anything to do with it, dear!” Mrs. Riley told her as she reached across the table and patted her hand. “You didn’t!  He’s just not himself at the moment.  Spence is right. Clayton
has
had a rough few days. But as soon as he’s had some dessert he’ll feel much better.”

Summer was about to comment when Clayton came back into the dining parlor with
a pie in one hand, plates and knife in the other.  He laid everything out on the table, cut the pie and dished each of them up a slice.  Mrs. Riley fetched a pot of coffee as he sat and began to dig in.

The food in the Riley household was incredible, from the cookie she ha
d that afternoon to the pot roast, apple pie and coffee that evening.  Summer certainly hoped she would be as good a cook as Mrs. Riley one day!  Clayton had his dessert and settled right down as if he’d been given some miracle elixir! If he ate Summer’s cooking he’d likely go to the barn, saddle up his horse and head for the hills!