The Mistaken Mail Order Bride Page 11

  He didn’t respond, but then, he didn’t need to. He’d already done so much for her. Of all the things that had happened since she got here, this was one of the nicest ones, and it’d happened in a way she’d least expected.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Eric came home, he found Caroline at the cookstove, the pot boiling over and smoke billowing up to the ceiling. She was trying to pick up the pot with the edges of her sleeves, but this, of course, wasn’t working very well.

  Leaving the door open, he ran over to her and took the dishtowels off the hook. “I got it,” he told her.

  She stepped away from him and allowed him to take the pot off the cookstove for her. He dumped it into the sink then ran over to the window and waved the smoke toward it. She hurried over to the door and shut it. She collapsed, her back pressed against it. Her face was bright red, and sweat made the strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun cling to her neck.

  Once the smoke dissipated enough so he didn’t keep coughing, he went over to her, noting the embarrassed expression on her face.

  “I thought you were going to wait until we went to Phoebe’s tomorrow before attempting to cook anything,” he said, making sure he used a gentle tone so as not to embarrass her further.

  She wiped the sweat from her forehead, her gaze lowering to the floor. “I know, but I’d already watched you make soup and thought maybe this time I could do it.”

  “This time?”

  “I wasn’t successful with it back in South Carolina, either,” she admitted.

  Despite the situation, he chuckled. “In that case, why don’t I make the soup? You can do everything else. That is, unless there’s something else you’ve been known to burn in the past.” He said the last part as a joke to let her know he wasn’t upset by the mishap.

  As he hoped, her lips curled up into a shy smile. “I haven’t attempted anything but soup. I don’t know what will happen when I do something else.”

  He took her hand and led her over to the couch. Glancing around, he noticed the door to Caleb’s room was closed. “Is he taking a nap?”

  “Yes. I thought I’d take the time to try cooking something while he wasn’t around to see it.” She shrugged. “In case it didn’t work.”

  He urged her to sit on the couch next to him and put his arm around her shoulders. “What started this whole thing? You know I don’t mind cooking until you learn, and even then, I don’t mind making meals from time to time.”

  “I know. You’ve been very kind to me.”

  “So why did you try to make soup?”

  She let out a heavy sigh and adjusted the skirt so it spread out neatly around her legs. “Remember what I told you about Ida Conner coming here for a visit?”

  He nodded.

  “Well,” she cleared her throat, “as it turns out, the visit wasn’t as pleasant as I thought it’d been.”

  “Why not? Did she say something to you when she was here?”

  “No. She was very nice the entire time she was here. It was what happened after she was here that’s the problem.”

  “What happened?”

  “She’s telling people all about her visit over here, but she’s adding things I never said.”

  “Like what?” he coaxed.

  “Oh, she’s saying things like I expect you to wait on me as if you were one of my slaves. She thinks that’s why I let you do the cooking. I told her I was going to learn, and you’ve done me a great kindness in making the meals.” She turned her eyes toward him, her expression pleading with him to tell her the truth, even if she wouldn’t like it. “You don’t think I expect you to do the cooking, do you?”

  “Of course not,” he assured her. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything around here I don’t want to do. It’s just going to take you time to adjust to your new life, that’s all.”

  “Because I’m too stupid to adapt quickly?”

  “No.” Where was this coming from? He’d never once said she was stupid. He hadn’t even thought it. “Why would you call yourself stupid?”

  “I did get off at the wrong town, and then I burned something as simple as soup.” She gestured to the cookstove. “And soup is supposed to be one of the easiest things a person can make.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you just made some mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “Like you did when you married me?”

  His eyes grew wide. Was Ida saying that, too?

  “They’re calling me your mistaken mail order bride,” she said, looking down at her hands which were folded in her lap. “And they’re right. You were supposed to be with Allison, and I was supposed to be with Charles.”

  “Allison didn’t show up. Are they calling her my no-show mail-order bride?”

  “I haven’t heard anyone mention her.”

  Of course, Ida hadn’t. There wasn’t enough juicy gossip for her to sink her teeth into over that one! No, Ida had chosen another angle. He should have known something was up when Caroline told him Ida came by. It only went to prove how gullible he was when he assumed Ida had a genuine desire to welcome Caroline to the town.

  Now all those stares and snickers he’d noticed made sense. The townsfolk were busy making up all kinds of lies about his marriage, and none of it was flattering his wife. She was such a sweet, trusting soul. The war hadn’t hardened her as it might have hardened other women. In fact, the war had made her more compassionate. It was probably why she felt compelled to take an orphan under her wing.

  “Caroline,” he began as he took one of her hands in his, “I don’t agree with what Ida’s saying. I think you’re a wonderful wife. Remember when I said everything happened for a reason?”

  Her eyes met his, and he detected a spark of hope in them. Maybe she needed to hear him reassure her that he didn’t regret how things turned out. And he didn’t. He certainly didn’t mind telling her that if that’s what she needed to hear.

  He brushed her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in fate. I think those stagecoach drivers let you off here in this town because this is where you’re supposed to be. I believe I was there that day waiting for Allison because I was supposed to be there when you arrived. Just as you were there when Caleb needed an understanding and kind woman to give him a home. It all happened because it’s meant to be.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, so he leaned forward and kissed it away. “I know this is easier said than done, but try not to let what Ida’s saying bother you. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. What matters is what we think.”

  “I know. People will think whatever they want, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I learned that when the Union soldiers came. I know some people in the North had an unfavorable view of people in the South.”

  “People like yourself?” he softly asked.

  “Not all of us were the way they made us out to be. In some ways, the slaves were like family, especially after the war devastated our land. I didn’t see them as being beneath me like the Union soldiers thought.”

  “Like you don’t think I’m beneath you even though Ida thinks you do?” he guessed.

  She nodded. “One of the slaves…Bee…took care of me and a couple of my friends after the war. Her sons protected us. Some people couldn’t understand why they stayed and helped us.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, so she took out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eyes.

  “Bee said she’d been there when I was born, had watched me grow up with my friends, and felt as if we were a part of her family,” she continued. “She told them it wasn’t the color of a person’s skin that connected people. It was how they cared for one another.” She took a deep breath and continued, “After my parents and brother died, she took over as my mother, and her sons treated me as their sister.”

  “What happened to your parents and brother?”

  “My father and brother joined the war. They thought the war would be over quickly,
and never in my wildest dreams did I think they’d die. My brother was shot in the field. My father lost his leg. He soon came down with an infection, and shortly after that, he died.”

  “And your mother?” he whispered.

  Again, she had to wipe the tears away. “Union soldiers came. They wanted our food, and when they saw me, they wanted to—”

  Her voice choked, and he pulled her into his arms. He rubbed her back. They hadn’t taken advantage of her. That much he knew because she’d been a virgin on their wedding night. “Your mother stopped them before they could touch you,” he said for her.

  “And paid for it with her life,” she added. Though her voice was soft, there were tears in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Caroline.”

  It seemed to him the world was full of injustice, whether it was the slaves he’d helped to free, or Abe who’d been an outcast in this town for reasons he had no control over, or Caroline who’d had to grow up much too fast because of a war she didn’t ask for, or Caleb who seemed to come out of nowhere.

  Well, he didn’t become a sheriff so he could sit by and let people make things worse for those who’d already suffered enough. He came here to make a difference. And he’d do it no matter what it took.

  “I’m going to have a talk with Ida,” he told Caroline. “I’m not going to let her go around telling people things about you that aren’t true.” It was enough the woman felt the need to blab the details of the stagecoach dropping Caroline off that day. She didn’t need to be distorting things on top of it.

  “I’ve dealt with people like Ida before,” Caroline said as she pulled away from him. She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes, and he couldn’t help but notice her face wasn’t quite so flushed anymore. “I should have known what I was dealing with when she came here, especially when Caleb wouldn’t eat one of her cookies.”

  “I thought we decided Caleb didn’t like cookies.”

  “He does like them. He ate the ones Phoebe made.”

  Eric’s eyebrows furrowed. “He did?”

  “In all the excitement of the day, I forgot to tell you. But that’s not important. What is important is that Caleb didn’t eat Ida’s cookies because he didn’t trust her. I asked him how he knew, and he couldn’t explain it. He said he just knew she was bad. I think he’s an unusually perceptive child.”

  “It certainly seems like it.” He offered her a smile. “He came all the way up here with you. I’d say that proves you’re not the kind of person Ida’s making you out to be.”

  “I thought of that while I was making the soup.”

  “And?”

  “And it made me feel better about everything.”

  “Good.” He kissed her. “Now, I have to teach Ida a lesson. I think she’s spread enough rumors.”

  He hadn’t realized just how harmful rumors could be until today, but he was going to put a stop to this nonsense.

  “What are you going to do?” Caroline asked as he rose to his feet.

  “I’m not sure yet, but when I do, I’ll let you know.” Noting the confusion on her face, he gave her another kiss. “Don’t make any more soup while I’m away,” he teased.

  As he hoped, she chuckled. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that.”

  “We’ll have sandwiches tonight. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll do the job.”

  “I think I might be able to handle those.”

  “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we make them together?”

  Returning his smile, she agreed.

  Feeling better for her sake, he headed back out of the house, his mind already going through the possible things he might do to teach Ida a lesson once and for all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eric strode up the pathway to Ida’s house. A couple of her children were playing in the grass. The nine-year-old ran into him by accident, and Eric caught him just in time to prevent him from falling.

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” the boy said.

  “It’s alright, Abner,” he replied. “I know you weren’t trying to run into me.” He patted the boy on the shoulder. “Is your mother here?”

  “No.”

  The eleven-year-old came over to him. “Ma’s at Auntie Liz’s.”

  Just as Eric was about to thank him and head on over to Liz’s house, Mike came out of the house, carrying an axe on his way to cut some wood.

  “Mike,” Eric called out as he hurried over to him.

  Mike turned to face him. “What is it?”

  “What has Ida been saying about Caroline?”

  Mike’s face went red, and he glanced down at the ground. “Oh, you know how Ida is. She mishears things.”

  “Mishears things?” Is that how Mike justified his wife’s tendency to spread gossip—even when it wasn’t true?

  “You shouldn’t pay her any mind. No one believes what she says. They know she exaggerates. Really, it’s harmless.”

  “Great. Then tell me what she told you.”

  Mike glanced at him as if he was daft for even making the suggestion.

  “If you think it’s harmless, you won’t mind telling me,” Eric said.

  “What’s the point of this? It’s not going to change anything.”

  “Oh yes, it will. I’m going to put your wife in jail for one night.”

  Mike’s jaw dropped, and this time, he had no trouble maintaining eye contact with him. “You can’t put her in prison for gossiping.”

  “Why not? Ida came into my home under false pretenses. Caroline believed she was there to welcome her to this place, and more than that, Caroline thought she’d made a new friend. Never once did Ida let her know she was going to take everything Caroline told her and lie about it. You and Ida might think this kind of thing is harmless, but it’s not. Everything Ida’s been saying has been hurting Caroline’s reputation. That’s defamation of character, and I won’t stand for it in my town. Ida telling people Caroline came here by accident when the stagecoach stopped here is one thing. That’s true, and there were witnesses to attest to it. But Ida telling them Caroline thinks she’s better than everyone else and that she expects me to do all the cooking isn’t true.”

  “It’s Ida’s opinion. A person shouldn’t go to jail for having an opinion.”

  “Oh?” So that was how Mike wanted to argue his point. Well, Eric could play his game. “I have an opinion, too, Mike. And that opinion is that your wife needs to keep her opinions to herself. Either she sticks to the facts or she keeps her mouth shut. That’s the new rule around here, and since I’m the sheriff, I’m going to enforce it. Now, to teach her a lesson, I’m putting her in jail for the night. Maybe then she’ll stop all this gossiping.”

  God knew letting her get away with it wasn’t going to do the trick. Some people needed action. They needed to suffer the consequences in order to understand that what they were doing was wrong.

  “Next time Ida does this kind of thing, she’ll be in jail for a week,” Eric added.

  “This isn’t fair, Sheriff,” Mike replied.

  “What Ida did to Caroline wasn’t fair, either, but guess what? Ida will be in jail for one night, and then this is over. Caroline has to live with the results of what Ida did for years. Once you spread the rumors, there’s no undoing them.”

  Mike opened his mouth, as if to protest, and then he sighed. “Alright, I see your point. But just for one night?”

  “Unless she keeps doing it. Then it’s a week. From there, we’ll figure something else out.”

  Mike indicated he was willing to go along with it. Good. Eric tipped his hat to thank him and headed for Liz Samson’s cabin. Liz and Ida were talking in hushed tones on the porch while Liz’s children played in the front yard.

  As soon as one of the children greeted him, the two women stopped talking and sat up straight in their chairs. If Eric had to make a guess, he’d bet the two were talking about Caroline. He was tempted to add another night to Ida’s jail time for this, but he’d told Mike one night, and
he’d stick with his word.

  He strode up the porch steps in time for Liz to offer a polite, “Afternoon, Sheriff. What brings you here?”

  “I came to take someone to jail,” Eric said in a manner that implied he was only there to discuss the weather.

  “Jail?” Ida asked, jumping to her feet. “Did one of my boys do something wrong?”

  “No, ma’am,” he replied, keeping his tone casual. “This isn’t for any of your children. It’s not even for Mike. You’re the one who’s going.”

  “Me?” She pointed to herself, her eyes wide in disbelief. “But why? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “On the contrary,” he began, “you’ve ruined someone’s reputation by spreading lies about her.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Didn’t it occur to you that I might find out what you’ve been saying about my wife?”

  Ida, at least, had the good sense to look embarrassed. “It wasn’t my intention to lie, Sheriff. I only wanted to tell people more about her. We’ve been curious about her ever since she stepped foot into this town.”

  “Then everyone could have asked me and Caroline to come to the town hall to address your questions. That way, everyone would have been able to hear Caroline’s answers instead of relying on you to tell them your version of the truth.”

  “My version of the truth?”

  Noting Ida’s incredulous tone, he asked, “Did Caroline tell you she thinks she’s better than everyone else?”

  Ida winced. “Well, she might not have said those exact words.”

  “Did she tell you that she expects me to do all the cooking for her?”

  “She said you’ve been cooking.”

  “That’s not what I asked. I asked you if she said she expects me to do that.”

  “Not in so many words. But you are doing the cooking.”

  “She doesn’t expect me to do it. I offered. I’m willingly doing it. There is nothing she’s expected me to do ever since she came here. Now,” he continued, gesturing toward the jailhouse, “you’re spending the night there for ruining Caroline’s good name. You can walk or I can carry you, but either way, you’re under arrest for the rest of the day.”