Eye of the Beholder Page 2

  “Mary, what’s gotten into you?” her mother called from the kitchen. The woman looked startled as Mary entered the room, her face flushed. “Why, I’ve never seen you so worked up over anything before. From the way you’re smiling, I take that it’s good news?”

  “It is!” Mary thrust the letter in her direction. “He said yes. I’ll be leaving in a week.”

  Her mother accepted the piece of paper and read it.

  Mary gathered the ingredients to help her mother with the pot roast she planned to make for dinner. “He even sent me a train ticket and some money for anything I may need to buy before I leave.” She set the armful of potatoes, celery and carrots on the counter before she reached for the seasonings. “I can’t think of anything to buy. I already have everything I need. I’m not even sure what farm wives need.” She washed the vegetables. “I wonder what life will be like out there. I’ll have to do some research so I know what to expect.”

  Realizing that she was rambling, which she rarely did, she stopped so her mother could speak if she wished. Her smile faltered when she saw that her mother kept her eyes on the letter, her mouth in a firm line.

  Feeling awkward, she put on her apron. She adjusted her bun and wiped her hands on the apron when she noticed they were clammy. Afraid to speak, for she suddenly realized that she didn’t want to know what her mother thought, she began cutting the vegetables.

  The early afternoon sunlight poured through the window, giving her adequate lighting for her task, but the heat coming from the oven caused sweat to cover her brow. The lack of a breeze blowing into the kitchen didn’t help matters nor did the heat rising in her face from the knowledge that her mother wasn’t pleased.

  “So, you will leave next Thursday.” Her mother’s words sounded distant.

  Unsure of what to say, Mary spent the next five minutes adding slices of vegetables to the roast her mother settled into the deep baking dish.

  Mary licked her lips before asking, “Is there anything you wish to advise me on? I do wish to be a good wife for him.”

  The older woman sighed as she seasoned the meat. “Mary, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes. Father’s right. I do want to get married and have children.”

  After what seemed like an eternity, she said, “It’s natural that you should feel that way. Nevertheless, since this arrangement is done without you having met him first, we should buy you a return ticket.” She covered the pot roast and vegetables with a lid and placed the dish into the oven. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “May I see the ticket? I will buy a return ticket for you on the day you will arrive in Omaha. Then you won’t have to spend the night there.”

  Timidly fingering the string on her apron, she forced her eyes on the woman staring expectantly at her. “You don’t think this will work?” The question barely came out as a whisper.

  “We must be practical about this, Mary.” The woman’s words were firm, her posture resolute and imposing in the small room.

  Her joy deflated, she stiffly nodded and went to get the ticket.

  ***

  On the day she left, her family gathered to see her off. She hesitated in knowing how to say good-bye. Shifting from one foot to the other, she waited for the conductor to call for passengers to board the train.

  “Well, this is it,” her father said in a solemn tone. “Be careful when you’re on the train. Don’t talk to men you don’t know unless it’s the conductor. As for Mr. Craftsman, trust your instinct.”

  “Your father is right,” her mother quickly inserted. “If he seems like a bad man, you come right back.”

  Not wishing to argue, she nodded her agreement. However, she made up her mind, and she decided that should Neil look at her and find her unsuitable for him, she would remain in Omaha and find employment. Women could work as teachers or governesses, and she did have experience cooking in a restaurant. Options were available should marriage fail to be in her future.

  “All aboard!” The conductor’s voice boomed through the small one room station.

  “It’s time for me to go.” She forced a smile, quickly blinking back her tears. Her family didn’t like it when she cried.

  “You will write, won’t you?” her mother asked.

  “Yes. I promise.” She clenched her hands together, suddenly aware that she was nervous.

  Clearing his throat, her father held out his hand to her.

  Surprised, since he didn’t make it a habit of touching her, she shook it.

  Her mother also shook her hand. “Take care of yourself.”

  “I will. And thank you both, for everything.” Her voice shook so she refrained from saying anything else.

  “All aboard! We depart in two minutes,” the conductor called.

  “Have a good trip,” her brother said.

  The others voiced their well wishes before she got on the train.

  Showing the conductor her ticket, she wiped her tears on her crisp handkerchief. She found her seat, noting the one next to hers was empty. A new life. She could do this. Looking out the window, she gave one last smile to her parents who had followed her to the platform. The train pulled out of the station, and despite the sorrow of leaving her family, her heart leapt with a sense of adventure.

  Chapter Two

  Omaha, Nebraska

  June 1874

  Dave Larson pulled the brake on his wagon and tied the two geldings’ reins to his seat. He hopped down to the ground, his brown boots hitting the dirt road that served as one of the main streets in Omaha. Taking off his brown hat, he used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He ruffled his dark blond hair and set the hat back on his head. The sun beat down on him, causing his gray eyes to squint. His light blue shirt and brown pants felt sticky as sweat clung to his body.

  He debated entering the mercantile but decided to check the post office first. After verifying nothing important came, he made his way past several people, exchanging the usual pleasantries on the way to the mercantile. He didn’t care to waste time dealing with anything but purchasing the food that would give him something doable to eat for the next month. Though he didn’t live far from town, he preferred to keep his visits to at least once a month. He had a farm to manage and didn’t like missing his work.

  He stepped into the mercantile and nodded at Ralph Lindon who owned the place.

  “Good to see you, Larson.” The fifty-year-old thin man with a head full of shaggy white hair and glasses smiled. “What brings you into town today?”

  “I have a minor emergency. I ran out of food.”

  “Again?”

  He grinned ruefully. “I know. When will I ever get organized?”

  “Should I gather your usual items for you?”

  “No. I’ll just run through the store and throw whatever I see into the basket.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a hopeless cause, Larson.”

  Dave shrugged and began his haphazard quest for food.

  Neil Craftsman entered the store. “I have to buy a ring for my bride!”

  Dave dumbly stared at his neighbor who nodded a quick greeting in his direction as he strode over to the counter next to the cash register where Ralph stood.

  “Is she the woman who answered your ad?” Ralph asked.

  “Yes. She comes from Maine,” Neil replied.

  Dave still couldn’t believe it. Neil posted an ad for a wife? Dave didn’t realize he wanted to settle down since most of the town knew he was busy trying to sow his wild oats. Dave shook his head. Perhaps the man realized that running around a whore house wasn’t the most productive use of his time. It made sense that he had to send away for a wife since no self-respecting woman would marry him if she knew his past.

  “So, you’re going to settle down and be a family man?” Ralph inquired as he accepted the money for the ring, looking as shocked as Dave felt.

  “There comes a time in a man’s life when he has to take responsibility for his future,” Neil replied. “I’m
already thirty.”

  “I hope you plan to honor those wedding vows when you make them.” He handed Neil the change.

  “Oh, I intend to. After my father died, I realized it was time to get serious about having kids. Someone has to take over my farm when I die.”

  Dave watched as the grinning groom exited the store. Glancing at Ralph, he raised an eyebrow. “Do we trust him?”

  “Stranger things have happened. I’ll know soon enough when people bring in their news. Being a store owner, I can’t help but hear what goes on in town.”

  “Of course, you don’t add to the gossip,” he teased.

  Ralph’s eyes widened. “I might straighten out some wrong thinking. If it’s true, then it’s news. If it’s false, then it’s gossip.”

  “Sure.” He didn’t hide his sarcasm. “I don’t think I’m any more of a loss cause than you are.” Chuckling under his breath, he turned back to the items on the shelves. To his dismay, he realized that he had selected the same items he usually bought. He wasn’t the only one who noticed it.

  “It looks like you got the usual,” Ralph stated when Dave brought the basket to the counter.

  Two other customers entered the store, preventing Dave from defending himself. After all, a single man could only manage so many recipes. Since Ralph quickly rung up his order so he could assist the old women with the sewing supplies, Dave was spared the older man’s ribbing.

  Exiting the place, he carried the two boxes full of food and settled them into the back of his wagon. With any luck, it would get him through a month, though it was due to be bland. A wife who knew how to cook would be a blessing, he thought as he recalled his mother’s tasty pot roasts with fresh vegetables and fruit salad.

  His stomach growled at the memory. He lost ten pounds in the seven months he spent by himself on the farm. He occasionally made it out to his parents’ place to eat a good meal but not as often as he wished.

  Though Neil was the last person Dave looked to for advice on anything to do to improve his life, he had to admit that a wife was probably the smartest thing a man could do for himself. He did need another set of hands at the farm so someone could share the burden with him. Not that he considered farming to be a burden, but it would be easier to get the chores done if he had a wife. He knew his next trip to Omaha would involve posting an ad in the papers back east asking for a wife. Plenty of men did it. He supposed he should too, especially since he didn’t know any available women who were old enough to get married.

  As he got ready to jump onto his wagon, he looked toward the station of the Union Pacific Railroad. The train was sitting on the tracks, waiting for people to either hop off or get on. He wondered briefly which of the few women disembarking could be Neil’s intended from Maine.

  He hesitated, his body turned to the wagon, wondering if he should satisfy his curiosity and see what type of woman answered an ad in a newspaper. Would it give him an idea of what to expect when one responded to his ad? Drumming his fingers on the side of the wagon, he happened to spot Neil who left the saloon, quickly tucking in his shirt.

  He felt a rush of sorrow for the person Neil went to meet. For all his talk about a wife and settling down, Neil didn’t seem willing to give up the pleasures of the flesh. Disgusted, Dave decided that she needed to be warned about who she would be marrying. He couldn’t stand idly by and watch another man mistreat a woman the way Clyde had mistreated his sister.

  Dave crossed the boardwalk and entered the airy room of the train station. People milled about, stretching their legs and asking directions to the nearest restaurant.

  He bypassed the old women and a plump brunette with child in tow as well as a pretty woman in the striking yellow dress. None were Neil’s type. For a moment, he thought the pretty blond searching the crowd would be Neil’s woman, but an elderly gentleman snatched her away.

  He inched his way through the crowd. He was tall enough to look over the heads of most of the men and women, but still short enough not to call too much attention to himself.

  He searched the crowd, finally spotting Neil and a woman in a hunter green dress over by the newspaper stand in the corner of the room. Dave’s eyes rested upon her plain appearance. He knew she didn’t match up to Neil’s standards, though she did have an ample bosom and nice hips.

  The man running the newspaper stand looked uncomfortable, standing as far away from the couple as the stand would allow him. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Dave wove through the crowd, determined to rescue her.

  When he realized that Neil was unhappy, he halted by the stack of newspapers to his right. The man at the stand seemed relieved to have someone nearby. Glancing at the man, he saw the man shake his head.

  “There’s a fight brewing,” he whispered to Dave. “I’d stay out of it if I were you.”

  Interested, Dave turned his attention back to the unlikely couple.

  “Miss Peters,” Neil began, a smile plastered on his face, “you are not what I expected.”

  The woman paused for a moment as if considering her words with great care. “Your ad asked for a hardworking and dependable woman who can provide you with children. I assure you that I’m not afraid of work, and I will prove myself loyal. As for children, my mother has borne my father twelve of them, myself included. I am able to do what you ask. I have in no way misled you.”

  “When I wrote that ad, I did not expect…I wanted…I don’t doubt that you can work hard and provide me with many children. But…”

  Dave knew Neil well enough to realize the man was flabbergasted. His hands waved about him and his mouth moved but no sound came out. The woman looked no more pleased than Neil, although she remained composed. There was a certain dignity in the straightness of her back and the tilt of her head. She had inner strength that saw her through the toughest of circumstances. The thought impressed Dave.

  “But?” She waited for Neil to finish his sentence. When he didn’t speak, she said, “But you had a different kind of woman in mind?”

  Neil blinked and shook his head. “I couldn’t get drunk enough to get you with child!”

  Dave winced at the cruelty of the remark. Even if Miss Peters was the ugliest woman alive, no one deserved that. He expected the woman to burst into tears, but she did not.

  She stood before Neil and in a very calm voice said, “Then I surmise that this arrangement won’t work.”

  “You’re right it won’t,” Neil snapped.

  Dave knew it irked the man to no end that she declared it before he did.

  “Very well. I won’t trouble you any further, and you may have your money back.” She handed him the bills that had been neatly folded in her purse. “I don’t wish to have anything from you. The trip here is enough. Thank you, Mr. Craftsman.”

  Neil grabbed the money with a huff and stomped away, cussing under his breath about women. “Next time I’ll request a pretty wife,” he grumbled as he passed Dave, not seeming to notice him. He plopped his hat onto his head and stormed out of the building.

  Dave found this particular woman to be intriguing. She maintained a quiet dignity in the midst of adversity. Such a woman should not be overlooked. He stepped around the stand and got his first good look at her. She didn’t possess the classic beauty most men sought, but she wasn’t ugly like Neil claimed.

  She sat on the bench, hands folded in her lap, head slightly bowed. She looked as if she waited for someone to pick her up, instead of enduring a torrid rejection. The only indication that Neil had disturbed her was the fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. He detected freckles on the bridge of her big nose and her rosy cheeks, which he found charming. As he neared, she glanced up at him, her aqua colored eyes wet with unshed tears. She blinked a few times, clearing them.

  He liked her eyes. They were a lovely color.

  Her fingers relaxed, her palms marked by tiny red crescents. “Am I in your way?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Considering the fact th
at you’re sitting on a bench that’s stuck in a corner, you aren’t in anyone’s way.”

  She looked surprised and he wondered if she had ever received a kind word from the world of men. He suspected she was eighteen or maybe a little older, and upon further inspection, he noted a sweet look about her.

  “Oh. Then you wish to sit?” She quickly stood and moved away from the bench. “I can find somewhere else to go. I should get a newspaper anyway.”

  “I can buy one for you and bring it here.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Why not? You’re a stranger in this community and it would only be fitting if someone welcomed you to town. I notice that Neil Craftsman did a lousy job of it.”

  She sighed and smoothed her hands on her dark green dress which matched her bonnet. “Oh. You overheard?” Her cheeks grew red as she stared at the beige travel bag by her feet.

  “I overheard Neil giving up a decent woman. You know, I couldn’t help but be impressed with how well you handled yourself.”

  She shrugged. “I figured, in the long run, he did me a favor.”

  “He did you a bigger favor than you realize. I guarantee you’re much better off without him.” Now that marrying the man wouldn’t happen, he no longer felt the need to warn her about his loose morals.

  Shifting from one foot to the other, she returned his gaze and said, “I should get a paper.”

  “May I buy it for you?” he asked.

  She hesitated for a moment before digging a coin out of her purse. “This should cover the cost.”

  She was generous. He held up his hand in protest. “That’s not necessary. After what you went through, it would be my pleasure to show you that one person in Omaha knows how to welcome a lady. I’ll be back faster than you can say Dave Larson.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed but he left before she could say anything. He nodded a greeting to several people who strolled through the station until he reached the man selling papers at the stand.