An Angel in the Mail (10 page)

Although several people congratulated Nate as he headed to the front door, the good wishes were mixed with questions about his missing wife. “Not feeling well,” seemed to satisfy most of the curiosity.

He herded the boys together, and they entered the coolness of the church. More curious stares. He nodded and smiled until his face grew stiff. Once they settled and the Pastor began the service, he wiped his brow and relaxed.

The last notes of “Amazing Grace” reverberated in the air as the congregation began to file out at the end of the service. As he held Julia-Rose against his shoulder with one hand, Nate ushered the boys out of the pew. He did more nodding and smiling at friends as they made their way out of the church.

“Where’s your lovely wife this morning?” Pastor Dunn asked as he shook Nate’s hand.

The line stopped, conversation ceased, all ears tuned. “She had a little accident. Not serious,” he added
quickly when he saw the preacher’s expression. “She slipped on water and hurt her ribs.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Poor Mrs. Hale. It would have been nice to see her again, and introduce her to the congregation.”

“Our new mama was naked!” Luke piped up.

“Yeah, and guess what? She threw up on Papa!” John chimed in, wide-eyed.

Smiling lamely, Nate nodded at the preacher, and nudged the boys forward.

He continued to take congratulations from those who had heard about the marriage, along with comments about his injured wife. Twice he had to put his hands over his sons’ mouths to keep them from elaborating on their family life. He would have been better off staying at home this morning.

Eventually, they made their way to the buggy. Realizing Mark was missing, he left Julia-Rose in Matt’s care and headed toward a group of boys under a large tree on the side of the church.

“Yeah, and Matt said when they got downstairs, she was lying on the floor. Naked!” Wide-eyed, Mark held cupped hands out from his chest and continued. “Matt said she has really big . . .”

“Mark!” Nate grabbed the boy by the collar.

Jerking his head up, and blushing furiously, Mark wrenched himself from his father’s grip. He muttered, "Gotta go," and ran toward the buggy.

Mrs. Darby pushed the door open with her impressive rear end, and turned with a tray of food in her hands.

“Here we are, dear.” She placed the tray on the bed. “Bread with jam, and tea.”

Angel winced as she attempted to pick up the tea. Since the medicine had worn off, her side throbbed even when she didn’t move.

“My goodness.” Mrs. Darby settled in the chair alongside the bed. “You have certainly had a hard time since you left home.”

As Angel sipped the hot, fragrant tea, her mind filled with thoughts of how much harder it would become once she was able to move around again, and Nate discovered her stepmother’s deception. He seemed like such a nice man, and tears gathered in her eyes when she considered the disappointment he would feel, once he found out.

“Now, now, dear.” Mrs. Darby patted her hand. “Don’t you trouble yourself. I’ll be here to take care of things until you’re on your feet again. Then you can take over, and things will work out, you’ll see.”

Angel put down the cup and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. “You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Things won’t ever work out. I can’t do
anything
. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“So you got off to a bad start. These things happen.” Mrs. Darby continued to pat her hand and murmur encouragement. When Angel’s tears failed to subside, the older woman leaned close. “What’s the matter, dear? You seem very distressed. Is there something in particular that’s troubling you?”

Angel wiped her eyes, and attempted to take a deep breath, but pain in her ribs stopped her short. “When I say I can’t do anything, I mean I really can’t do anything.”

The older woman frowned, her expression questioning.

Angel sighed. “I was raised with servants. I have never made a bed, cooked a meal, or cleaned a house in my whole life.”

She wiped her eyes with cold fingers. “I’m a fake. And that nice man with all those children, at this very moment in church, who married me in good faith, is going to be so mad when he finds out.”

“I don’t understand.” Mrs. Darby leaned back and looked at her in surprise. “If you come from such a background, why did you agree to be a mail order bride?”

Angel’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t. My stepmother did. She applied at the agency in my name, she sent the letters to Nate, and signed the contracts.”

The woman’s jaw dropped. “Why would she do such a thing?”

Angel related the story of her papa’s illness, ending with her arrival in Oregon.

Mrs. Darby listened with expressions of both anger and sympathy on her face. When Angel had finished, the woman made a clucking sound, her lips tightened in a straight line.

They turned at the sound of the front door opening and the noisy chattering of Nate and the children. Angel quickly wiped away her tears, and began chewing on a piece of bread that tasted like shoe leather.

Mrs. Darby rose and smoothed the bed covers. “Don’t you worry, we’ll talk again, and I promise everything will be all right, you’ll see.” With that, Angel’s new ally left the bedroom.

Within minutes, Nate’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. Full of life and energy, her husband strode into the room.

“How do you feel?” he asked as he approached the bed.

“Sore,” she said, hanging her head, “and mortified.”

Nate put his finger under her chin, lifting her head. “I’m really sorry you fell.” He gave her a half-smile. “But you shouldn’t be embarrassed. These things happen.”

They stared at each other for a minute. Settling himself gently on the bed, he leaned over and, cupping her face in his hand, kissed her on the mouth. She jerked her head back. The completely unexpected kiss had caused a jolt all the way to her toes.

“What’s the matter?” He dropped his hand.

“Nothing. I, um, I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”

One brow arched as he regarded her intently. “Well, since we can’t do anything about it anyway,” he glanced down at her wrapped ribs, “there’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

The coolness in his voice felt like a slap.

“Papa, Mrs. Darby said to tell you dinner’s ready, and you should help our new mama downstairs so she can join the family.” Luke came skipping into the room, but before he could leap on the bed, Nate scooped him up.

“Okay, son, go tell Mrs. Darby we’ll be right there.”

Angel was still disoriented from the kiss, but apparently Nate’s good humor had been restored. Since he had all these kids to deal with, he seemed able to recover quickly. Probably a very good trait, one she could certainly practice herself, given her new life.

“Can you bring me my dressing robe?” she asked. “I’m afraid it’s somewhere in my trunk. I haven’t been able to unpack anything yet.”

Nate bent over the open trunk, and started taking out dresses. And more dresses, and more dresses. “Honey, these fancy dresses are nice, but I’m afraid you’ll ruin them doing your chores.” He looked over the pile he had tossed onto the bed. “No dressing robe in that trunk. I’ll try the other one.”

He emptied that trunk also, which contained even more fancy dresses, along with gloves, hats, fans, stockings, handkerchiefs, and other fripperies that brought a frown to his face. Finally, toward the bottom of the second trunk he held up a robe.

“Is this it?” He asked, waving the gold and blue flowered silk robe.

“Yes, thank you.”

“This won’t do you much good on cold nights.” He brought the robe and helped her into it. Then, tossing the covers off, he helped her to her feet.

She winced as she took the first step.

“You all right?”

“Yes, I think so. It just hurts when I move.”

He looked at her and winked, and smiled that impish smile as he placed his arm around her waist and walked them toward the door.

Angel hoped he couldn’t feel her heart pounding from just that little contact.
You may want to kiss me, but I can guarantee you’re not going to care too much for my cooking.

The table was set for eight places. As Nate sat her carefully in one of the chairs, she noticed none of the dishes matched. The sugar bowl in the center of the table didn’t have a top. The three coffee cups for the adults had mismatched, chipped saucers under them.

Mrs. Darby had certainly put enough food on the table. A large bowl of lentils and rice, carrots, and some type of delicious-smelling baked fish sat alongside pickles, and a smaller bowl of garden greens. As Angel eased into a chair, Mrs. Darby added a basket of steaming biscuits, and a crock of butter next to it.

“Go to the sink and wash up.” Nate spoke to the boys as he settled Julia-Rose on a cushion on her chair. Then he deftly tied a strap around her waist, reached over and took a biscuit out of the basket, and placed it into her chubby hand. She immediately nibbled on it, banging a spoon on the table with her other hand.

The four boys climbed on their chairs as Mrs. Darby placed glasses of milk by their plates. Soon everyone was settled, and Nate bowed his head in prayer. Mrs. Darby and the boys all echoed his “Amen,” and they dug in.

Angel’s head spun as hands shot out and grabbed for food. Instead of passing bowls, everyone just scooped out what they wanted by leaning over, and plopping it on their plates. Mark smacked Matt’s hand when he took two biscuits. Matt shoved one of the biscuits in his mouth, and laughed at his brother’s scowl, crumbs falling down his shirt.

Nate broke up a bit of fish, added lentils and rice, and set it in front of Julia-Rose. The baby dropped her spoon and biscuit, and using both hands pushed food in her mouth, smearing it on her face, hands, and in her hair. Angel had never seen anything like it.

She thought of her meals back home in a well-carpeted dining room, the highly polished mahogany table set with silver, china and crystal. In the center of the table was always a large candelabrum, with vases of seasonal flowers flanking either side.

Meticulous butlers served the courses, and removed dishes as they emptied. Conversation was soft spoken, and nothing discussed that could interfere with digestion. When the meal came to an end, Angel and Sylvia sipped strong, fragrant coffee, laced with cream and sugar, while her father retreated to the library for brandy and a cigar.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Angel?” Nate asked, looking at her empty plate.

She jerked from her musings. “Actually, I just had some bread before you came home from church.”

“Now, dear,” Mrs. Darby said, “just eat a little something more. You hardly touched the bread and jam. Here, I know it’s hard for you to reach, so I’ll fix a plate for you.”

When she’d filled the plate to her liking, Mrs. Darby placed the food in front of Angel.

Just then Julia-Rose pointed at her. “Mama.”

Angel glanced up in surprise and was greeted by Julia-Rose’s wide smile, showing a few pearly baby teeth, fish stuck to her chin, and rice in her hair. She held part of the biscuit in her little hand, and Angel had never seen a more beautiful sight in her life.

Mark looked down at his plate, and mumbled, “She calls everyone Mama.”

It didn’t matter. Suddenly it occurred to her that she was, indeed,
Mama
to these five lively children. She glanced from one to the other. The twins giggled at each other. Matt shoveled food into his mouth, and Mark glowered every time he looked in her direction.

For better or worse, it was her duty to nurture, love, and take care of them. Whatever it took, she would make sure she lived up to that responsibility. It wasn’t their fault her stepmother had committed fraud. She was here now, and by God, she would do right by them.

Chapter 7

After dinner, Nate settled Angel on the settee in the parlor. The boys helped Mrs. Darby clean up, while Nate took Julia-Rose upstairs to wash and change her. When he came back down, he brought the little girl to Angel, and set her gently on her lap.

He’d cleaned the food from her hair and face, and changed her dress. Angel inhaled the sweet baby smell, and kissed her soft cheek. She ran her fingers through the fine, curly blond hair and tickled her under her chubby chin. The baby laughed and laid her head on Angel’s chest. Within minutes she had stuck her fingers into her mouth, and fallen asleep.

And Angel had fallen in love.

Nate sat next to her, putting his arm around the back of the settee.

Matt ran into the parlor and skidded in front of his father, his three brothers on his heels. “Papa, can we go to the creek?”

“Yes, but be sure to keep an eye on your brothers.” He turned to the twins. “Mind Matt, and don’t wander off.”

“Yippee.” They all shouted as they raced for the door.

“I’m gonna catch a frog,” Mark boasted as the door slammed.

Mrs. Darby came into the room, smiling at them, and wiping her hands on a towel. “There’s plenty of food left over for tonight’s supper. I kept the apple pie I made aside so you’ll have something to go with it.”