The Convenient Mail Order Bride Read online

  “I’ve heard of gold rushes. Only a few strike it rich. Everyone else ends up worse off than they were before. Is Carl’s father still alive?”

  “I don’t think so since Carl owns the land and stream now. At least, Carl says he owns it.”

  It was hard to know what the truth was, but if she had to guess, she’d say Abe was right. Abe, after all, hadn’t been deceitful enough to send a mail-order bride ad in another man’s name. Phoebe glanced at the dishes in the bucket and picked up the wet cloth she’d been using to wash them. But instead of resuming the wash, she only stared at the cloth.

  “Do you think Abe can look beyond the fact we’re white?” Phoebe finally asked her mother.

  “Oh, I don’t see why the fact we’re white should make a difference.”

  “I wouldn’t think so either, except if he is having trouble trusting white people, then where does that leave us?”

  “You should ask him.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not? You’re going to be married to him. If you can ask anyone anything, it should be the person you’re married to.”

  Her mother was right, of course. Phoebe couldn’t argue the point. But she barely knew him. How could she come right out and ask him if he trusted them? Besides, didn’t it take time for people to trust each other, regardless of their skin color?

  “Phoebe,” her mother began, “is that why you interrupted me tonight when I asked Abe about his tribe? Were you afraid it’d remind him we’re white?”

  “He was upset when he was talking about white men stealing things from others. I thought he might go into that again, and it would be hard to enjoy a meal with that as the topic of conversation.”

  “But not everything in life is pleasant,” her mother tenderly told her. “There are bad things that happen. I don’t mind if Abe tells me about them. You don’t have to shelter me. We’ve had it better than most. I don’t have to know what’s happened to his tribe to know this. Your father and Phillip took good care of us. And I have a feeling Abe will do the same. We’ve been blessed far more than most.”

  Noting her mother’s yawn, Phoebe said, “Why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll finish up the dishes.”

  “Tomorrow, I should be able to do more.”

  “You’ve done a lot today. The trip wore me out, too, but I’m younger and can handle it better.”

  “Youth does have its advantages.” She placed her hand on Phoebe’s arm and squeezed it. “It’ll work out. Just give it time. Being a bride soon, you’re likely to have doubts. Sometimes you have to think with your head, and you and I both know Abe is a good man. Don’t give fear a foothold.”

  Her mother released her arm and retreated to the bedroom. With a sigh, Phoebe turned back to the dishes and picked one up. As she ran the soapy cloth over it, she dared a peak out the window.

  Abe was leading a horse toward the barn. He gave it a friendly pat on the neck, and though she couldn’t hear him, she saw him talking to it. The horse, as if understanding him, neighed and shook its head.

  Releasing her breath, she turned her attention back to the dish. Alright. So she had to talk to Abe. Only then would her doubts be settled. But how on earth was she going to do it?

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Abe tapped the top of the pitchfork. Things had been just as awkward at breakfast as they had been the previous evening at supper, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Had it not been for Phoebe’s mother telling him about her son and his family, the tension would have been unbearable. Something needed to change. He just didn’t know what.

  The horses neighed at him, so he turned his attention back to the pile of hay in front of him. He dug his pitchfork into it, gathered a good amount of hay, and set it in their troughs. Content, they stopped neighing at him and began eating. If only women were as easy to figure out as horses. His mother had been a mystery to him. Now Phoebe would be one as well.

  Once he was finished with the horses, he milked the cow. He retrieved the pail full of fresh milk and took it to the house. Phoebe was washing dishes while her mother was rocking in his mother’s favorite chair. It was strange to see someone in his mother’s chair, but he figured someone might as well get some use out of it.

  He went over to Phoebe and showed her the pail. “Where do you want it?”

  “Um,” Phoebe glanced around her then pointed to the worktable, “over there will be fine.”

  He nodded and set it down.

  “Abe,” her mother spoke up, sitting straight up in the chair. “I was wondering, how often do you make a trip into town to get supplies?”

  He shrugged. “Once a month. Maybe once every two months. It depends on the weather.” And if he had any business to do in town. “Do you need to go there?”

  “There are a couple things I wouldn’t mind having. I get bored just sitting around doing nothing, and more than that, I’d like to make myself useful. Got anything you need me to mend or sew?”

  “Oh, well…” It’d been a long time since he last checked the clothes that needed mending. “I think there’s two shirts and one pair of denims that are coming apart.”

  “Good! I’ll be happy to make them as good as new. Why don’t you and Phoebe run on to town and collect supplies for me?”

  Phoebe glanced up from the pan she’d been washing. “You don’t want to come along?”

  “No,” her mother said. “I’m not fully rested from our trip.” She looked at Abe. “We packed light. You wouldn’t mind it if she bought a couple items to pretty herself up, would you?”

  When Phoebe’s gaze went to him, he said, “You’re welcome to get whatever you need.”

  Of all the things people could say about him, withholding things a woman needed wasn’t going to be one of them. While Phoebe and her mother were there, he’d see to their needs.

  “We’ll leave in thirty minutes,” he added then left the cabin to get the horses ready.

  He suspected her mother had ulterior motives for sending him and Phoebe into town. Most likely, Phoebe knew it, too. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to sitting with Phoebe for nearly an hour, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get some things resolved. They would have to spend a couple weeks in the same house until the next stagecoach came back. Surely, they could come to an understanding that would allow them to live peaceably.

  He got the horses hitched to the wagon before the half hour was up, and he fully expected to wait for her to come out, much like he’d have to wait for his mother, who insisted on making sure she looked as beautiful as possible in case they ran into his father while in town. Even now, Abe grimaced in irritation. Why did she degrade herself that way? No wonder Carl thought he could walk all over him. He’d watched his father do it to Abe’s mother his entire life.

  The door to the cabin opened, and Abe’s mind returned to the present. Phoebe had put her hat on, and she was sliding the ribbons of her drawstring purse up her arm. There was no doubt she was a pretty thing. She almost seemed too good for this place. A bigger house with far more land would have suited her better. Why hadn’t any of the white men back in Ohio taken an interest in her? Were men stupid over there?

  Phoebe took a deep breath, squared her shoulders back, and marched toward him, much as a man would do when faced with a battle.

  Despite the situation, a chuckle escaped Abe’s throat. “I’m not going to hurt you. You have nothing to fear.”

  “That’s not what I’m thinking,” she said, seeming surprised by his comment.

  “Then why do you look as if you’re going to die?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed and her steps slowed as she reached the wagon. “I don’t have any reason to think I’m going to die.”

  He went over to her. “Well, something’s on your mind.” He held his hand out to her. “I’ll help you in.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  “If you want to get in yourself, you certainly may,” he said, gesturing to the seat. “But that skirt’
s likely to give you some problems unless you lift it. Of course, if you lift it, I’m likely to see something I shouldn’t.”

  At that, her face went bright red, and she thrust her hand out to him. He stared at her, not sure if he should laugh or be concerned. Something was troubling her. She hadn’t been afraid of him when she asked him if she could stay, nor was she afraid when she brought the nails up to him while he was fixing the roof. He thought over the things he’d said or done that might have spooked her, but he couldn’t think of anything.

  After a moment, he took her hand and helped her into the wagon. When he made it to his side, he got in next to her and glanced her way. Again, she refused to look at him. Perhaps she worried about being alone on the trail with him. Maybe she thought he’d take advantage of the situation.

  He unlocked the brakes and snapped the reins, encouraging the horses to move forward. She gasped and lost her balance. Leaning toward her, he put his arm around her waist and steadied her before she fell back.

  “I thought you were familiar with wagons,” he said.

  “I-I am,” she stammered as she finally found her balance. He released her, and she cleared her throat. “I just didn’t expect the horses to go so fast, that’s all.”

  She hadn’t expected the horses to go so fast? He glanced at her to see if she was serious. Eric had brought her out on his wagon, and those horses were moving faster than his were.

  Since her face was an even brighter shade of red than it’d been before, he decided to let the observation pass. Instead, he said, “There’s no reason you should be afraid of me. I’m not going to do anything I shouldn’t.”

  “I know,” she replied, the slight waver in her voice betraying her.

  “Phoebe, if we’re going to be living in the same house until the stagecoach arrives, we can’t dodge the issue. I don’t know what happened, but ever since you went up on the barn roof to help me, you’ve been avoiding me. The next few weeks will go a lot smoother if you just come out and tell me why.”

  She took a deep breath. He thought for sure she wasn’t going to say anything, and he was ready to give up when she said, “Alright. There is something troubling me.”

  Good. They were finally getting somewhere. “What is it?”

  “Do you wish me and my mother weren’t white?”

  “No. You and your mother can’t help being white.”

  “But if we were Indian, would we be better?”

  Surprised by the question, he thought over his response before answering. “You and your mother are white, and since there’s no changing it, I don’t wish you and your mother were Indian. It just is what it is.” When she frowned, he added, “I don’t hate white people. There are some nice ones. Eric Johnson is one of them. There’s Travis Martin, too. Granted, Travis keeps to himself, and because of that, he’s never caused any trouble. But then you have the likes of Carl. Those types, unfortunately, outnumber the good ones. Most white people, especially the men, aren’t any good. You can’t trust them. If they’re being nice, it’s because they want something, and when that happens, you better watch your back.”

  “It’s not fair of you to say that about all white people.”

  “I didn’t say all white people. I said most, and I singled out the men, but some white women aren’t so nice, either. Sure, they aren’t out grabbing land and stealing goods from an Indian, but they act like anyone who isn’t white is out to rape, murder, or steal from them. Watch the way the women act around me when we’re in town. Then you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

  “But you look white.”

  “I’m a half-breed. As far as they’re concerned, I’m full-blooded Indian.” He shook his head. “And more than that, I’m a bastard. Are you telling me in Ohio, the fine white people readily accept bastards?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “No. It’s preferable if everyone is born in wedlock, even if there is a last minute wedding before the baby is born.”

  “Exactly. I have two things against me, and those are two things too many. Now, I don’t blame you for any of this. You and your mother seem like nice women. I’m not going to hurt either one of you. All I want is to live my life in peace, and I want what’s rightfully mine. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  “No.”

  “Good. So maybe we can get along until it’s time for you to leave on the next stagecoach.”

  “I already said I’m not leaving on it.”

  “By the time you see how things are in town, you’ll change your mind.”

  She shook her head, but he decided she’d find out how right he was soon enough. Phoebe, he was quickly learning, had a stubborn streak in her. Once she set her mind to something, she did everything in her power to make it happen. But even a strong-willed woman wouldn’t be able to stand against the majority of people in town.

  “If nothing else,” he continued, “it’d be nice to get along while you and your mother are here. Since you two are willing to stay with me, obviously you aren’t like other white people. You don’t need to worry I’ve lumped you in with them. I haven’t. So, what do you say? Can we be friends?”

  “Yes, we can.”

  “Thank you.”

  That was a relief. Maybe next time he offered to help her up in the wagon, she wouldn’t flinch. It was bad enough he had to put up with the looks and whispers in town. He didn’t need to get it with her, too. He turned his attention back to the path in front of them, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

  Chapter Seven

  When they got to town, Phoebe thought it was even smaller than she’d remembered. The few people who were gathered outside had decided it was far more interesting to stare at her and Abe than to continue on in their conversations.

  Ignoring them, she glanced at Abe. Could he really accept her and her mother since they weren’t more like him? If she’d had some Indian blood in her, she suspected he would’ve accepted her right away. She was different from him, and she didn’t know if he really could separate his feelings for the people in town from her and her mother.

  But he’d asked her to give him a chance, and the least she could do was what he wanted. As he pulled the wagon up to the general store, he turned to her. “Do you know what you want, or are you going to look around?”

  “My mother gave me a list of items she needs,” she said, pulling it from the pocket of her skirt. “I thought I’d take a look around and see if I need anything.” She cleared her throat. “Is there any food you’d like me to get while we’re here?”

  “I don’t care as long as it’s not any of Carl’s. Avoid anything with the Richie label.”

  She nodded and waited for him to come over to her side of the wagon before getting down. If he hadn’t made the comment about her skirt, she would have gotten down herself, but the last thing she needed to do was give any of the onlookers a show.

  “I’m going to the post office and then the lumber store,” Abe told her. “Afterwards, I’ll come to the store to pay for the items. That way, we don’t have to be in town any longer than we need to.” He paused. “That is, unless you want me to go to the store with you.”

  “I’ve been to a store before,” she told him, aware the people were still staring. “I know how to find things there.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t. I just thought being new here…” He sighed. “Never mind. I’m sure whatever I say you’d only take it the wrong way.”

  As he started to head off, she asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  With a glance around, he came back to her and lowered his voice. “I thought you wanted my help in there, that’s all. Some items are pretty high, and I could reach them for you.”

  “Oh. Is there a ladder or something to step on to reach them?”

  “Yes, but it’s not always available.”

  She hadn’t considered that. He made a good point. But since he was uncomfortable being in town and since the people were still staring at them, she d
ecided it would be better to make things go as quickly as possible. “You go on ahead to the post office and lumber store. I’ll go to the general store. If I see anything out of reach, I’ll wait until you’re there to get it.”

  He nodded in satisfaction and led her up the steps to the boardwalk. As they passed by two men lounging in a chair, one of them snickered. She looked his way, but he’d already turned his gaze to something across the street. Her eyebrows furrowed. What was the snickering about?

  From beside her, Abe let out a sigh and opened the door. “I won’t be long,” he told her, gesturing to the interior of the general store.

  She mumbled a thank you and went into the store. After the door closed behind her, she glanced back. The two men didn’t talk to Abe, something she had expected, but they did chuckle and whisper something to each other as Abe headed to the post office. She’d thought Abe was exaggerating when he mentioned how things were in town. There might, however, be more truth to what he said than she’d been willing to accept.

  “May I help you?” a man asked.

  She turned and saw a thin man right in front of her. He had a handlebar mustache and looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was tall, too. Probably a good six feet and five inches in height.

  “Um…yes.” She unfolded the piece of paper her mother had written on then handed it to him. “These are some of them. I was going to browse the store to see what else I wanted.”

  He took the paper from her and scanned it. “How do you intend to pay?”

  “I’m not going to pay. Abe Thomas is.” She motioned in the direction of the post office. “He’s over there right now, and then he’ll go to the lumber store.” When he frowned, she added, “But he’ll be here after that.”

  “I see Carl got that mail-order bride for him after all,” he said then went to grab a basket.

  Maybe she shouldn’t press the issue, but she couldn’t help but blurt out, “You knew Carl posted a mail-order bride ad on Abe’s behalf?”

  “It’s a small town. There’s not much I don’t know.” He scanned the list again and began collecting the items written on it.