Johanna: Bride of Michigan (American Mail-Order Bride 26) (6 page)

“It can be dangerous at times. A man gets pretty stir-crazy at the lumber camps and when they come into town, they let loose. For the most part, they head to the taverns, but it’s never a good time for a woman to be caught unaware and by herself.”

“And to think I thought it would be safer here than in Lawrence.”

“Oh? I’ve never been to Lawrence. What is it like there?”

Johanna sighed. “Well, it’s dirty and smoky from the many mills and factories. It’s known as Immigrant City, so a woman does have to be careful. There are quite a number of unsavory men lurking around to snatch unsuspecting women right off the streets.”

“I think women can never be too careful when it comes to men, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a gentleman and a respected member of this great city. I know it’s nothing like the much larger city you’re from, but we do have our culture, too. I have so many things I’d love to show you.”

They starting walking back to Paul’s home as they continued their conversation. “Like what?”

“You’ve only seen a fraction of the city. I own a mill, and I’d love to take you there and show you how we saw logs into lumber. It’s quite interesting, I think. I’ll be taking you to an actual lumber camp, too. Right now, most of my lumberjacks are enjoying the time with their families. Soon, the camps will be loaded. Most of the work had been done during winter, although we have trains to move the logs into town now. The rivers are still used to transport them, as well.”

“This sounds so confusing.”

“It won’t be in time. I want you to feel a part of this, since you’re my wife. It will be the legacy of our children one day.”

Johanna smiled as they came back to his house. Paul had led them a different way, and a much longer one. Her feet indeed were hurting by the time they went up the stairs and walked inside.

“Let’s give this cake a try,” Paul suggested.

Johanna followed him to the dining room, setting the cake down. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates and a knife and cake server, as well as a bottle of milk.

“You have to enjoy chocolate cake with milk,” he insisted.

“I’d rather have tea.”

“You’ll have to wait for that. One of the maids just put a pot on the stove.”

Paul took the cake out of the box and cut the chocolaty goodness, or so Johanna hoped it would be. She admired Paul for assembling what he needed to cut and eat the cake with. Most men of his social standing might never lift a hand at home, not when he had hired help. Johanna couldn’t see herself as someone who’d expect the help to do everything for her. She’d have to do something to wile away her time.

He handed a plate to her and she put a forkful in her mouth, sighing in enjoyment. “This is so good.”

Paul only nodded as he had a mouthful. He took a drink of his milk and said, “I told you it would be good.”

“I know, but I suppose it would be hard to explain how good.”

He smiled before changing the subject. “Why did you decide to become a mail-order bride?”

Johanna swallowed hard. “You promise to not send me back?” When his brow shot up, she quickly added, “It’s nothing that bad, I assure you.”

“I promise I won’t send you back, no matter what you tell me.” He winked.

She moved her fork along her plate. “Well, as I stated before, I was working at a factory in Lawrence, but there was a fire and the owner didn’t want to rebuild. There were over a hundred women working at the factory. Our manager was a woman, and she spoke with a few matchmakers. We were each given a copy of the
Grooms’ Gazette
to choose a groom from.”

“A hundred women decided to become mail-order brides?” he asked, shocked.

“No, about half that. Married women wouldn’t be able to do that, of course.”

“Surely there were other positions you could have found.”

Johanna gulped. “Honestly, becoming a bride to a stranger would be much better than another job in a factory. The pay isn’t that good, and you have to work long hours. It’s also dangerous. Many of the factory owners don’t think safety is a priority.” She rubbed her scar gingerly. “You’re not sorry I’m here, are you?”

“Of course, not. I only wanted to understand why a beautiful woman like you would have a need to do that. I’m sure there must be men who would have wanted to marry you there.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to insinuate, Paul, but I came here for a better life. I assure you I had no knowledge that you were a lumber baron or I wouldn’t have chosen you.”

“Why is that?”

“Your mother is very lovely, but I think if she finds out my background, she might not think I’m a suitable wife.”

“I have no intention of giving my mother any ammunition to use against you or me.”

“So, why did you order a bride, really?”

Paul’s eyelid twitched. “Actually, my mother is the real reason. She’s rejected every woman I ever courted.”

“What does it matter if she liked them or not?”

“It doesn’t, but she found a way to run them off, believe me. When she suggested I get a mail-order bride, I knew she’d have no say in the matter when one came to town.”

Johanna frowned. “Well, that doesn’t mean she’ll be any kinder to me. I have the feeling she’s quite capable of making my life difficult if she chooses, but I’ll do my best to win her over.”

“That’s good to hear. I promise I won’t let her chase you away. Not when I’m only beginning to get to know you.”

They finished up the cake and Paul led her into a much larger room. There was a pink, revival Victorian sofa, the oval and side cushions crested with deep rose carvings. There were also chairs to match, but what caught her attention was the carved wooden mantle. The intricate pattern was made of deep-grooved spirals and roses. Without thinking further, she crossed the room, taking a seat on the bench of a piano.

She began to play, her fingers gliding across the keys with deliberate movements. Paul stood near her but Johanna was so into it she paid him no attention. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the beautiful song. She wiped them off when it was over.

“Who taught you how to play?”

“My grandmother. She said it was written by Bach.”

Paul smiled. “Yes, Johann Sebastian Bach, to be exact. He was a German composer and musician. I think you just found a way to impress my mother. She insisted I have a piano, even though I don’t know how to play.
Prelude No. 1
is one of her favorites.”

She moved off the bench. “Sorry, I always move to tears when I play that.”

“Let’s have a seat,” Paul suggested.

They sat down on the soft sofa and she fingered the material.

“So, who was your grandmother?”

Johanna’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I hope you know just because I worked at a factory doesn’t mean I’m not cultured.”

“I’d never say such a thing, but I think there’s more to you than I realize.”

Paul took her hand in his and she pulled away as if burnt. She stood shakily. “I think I should go to my room now. I think that cake filled me up too much for dinner. Five days is a long time to be on the train. I’d like to catch up on my sleep.”

Paul actually looked hurt, but nodded in agreement. “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning then.”

Johanna nodded and left the room.

Paul sighed after his wife practically ran from the room. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, but he couldn’t help himself, not after she played such a wonderful song on the piano. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to crush her in his embrace, sealing his lips with hers, but it was quite apparent that she wouldn’t allow him to do such a thing, at least not for quite a while.

Paul eased back, knowing he had work ahead of him. He had a feeling that Johanna felt she didn’t fit in, but he was resolved to prove her wrong. He saw the sadness displayed on her face when she spoke about working at the factory. He couldn’t imagine how hard her life had been, but he vowed to make sure she had a good one from then on. First thing the following day, he’d take her shopping. Hopefully, he could find her a few dresses and have her fitted by the seamstress. Natasha was the best seamstress in Saginaw.

Johanna might not want him anywhere near her at the moment, but he’d show her the type of man he really was and hope she’d fall in love with him in time. He certainly felt very protective of her already. It wasn’t something Paul had ever felt for a woman before, but she was his wife. How could he not feel that way about her?

* * *

Johanna’s legs shook all the way out of the room and up the stairs. She pressed her back against the door once she was safely inside. She could still feel Paul’s warm hand on hers. Tears ran down her face. She wanted … okay, so she wasn’t sure what she wanted exactly and was too nervous right then to understand why she felt dizzy every time Paul looked her in the eye. Was she falling for him already? No, she couldn’t do that; she barely knew him. She did hope he’d come to love her one day, though. It would be hard to go through life married to a man who would never love her.

She tugged off her dress, unbuttoned her shoes and managed to loosen her corset enough to wiggle out of it. When she stood only in her chemise, she noticed the blankets had been drawn back. Johanna frowned. How would she get used to living in such a big house? Johanna didn’t want to have anyone wait on her; she was more than capable of doing things for herself.

She crawled under the covers and snuggled up to her pillow, hugging another one since her bed had four of them. It was so soft and feathery. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of lavender from somewhere in the room. Her grandmother had told her once that lavender induced slumber, or it might have been a way to convince Johanna that it would actually help her fall asleep. It wasn’t long before Johanna nodded off, feeling more comfortable than she had been in years.

* * *

Johanna buried her head under her pillow, wishing whoever was knocking on her door would go away. She hoped her sister wouldn’t barge in when she didn’t answer the door. Sitting up with a start, she stared around the room. It was then she realized she wasn’t in Lawrence but in Saginaw, married to the mysterious Paul. She didn’t know what to think of him as of yet, but she was certainly looking forward to finding out.

She rolled out of bed and hastily donned her dressing gown, answering the door. A maid stood there with a shy smile. “Can I help you with anything?”

Johanna blinked several times. “No, I can’t think of anything. I’ll get dressed.”

“Sorry.” She giggled. “I meant can I help you with your bath?”

“Bath?”

“Yes, Mr. Worthington asked us to ready a bath for you. He told us he was positive you’d welcome one after your long train ride.”

Johanna smiled. “Yes, I’d love that.”

Before she had a chance to gather any of her things, she was ushered across the hallway and into a washroom where a bathtub was filled with scented water. The room also had a chamber pot and washbowl with pitcher.

“I’ll stay to assist you.”

“No. I think I can take a bath without any help.”

“Don’t be silly.”

Her dressing gown was pulled off by the maid, and Johanna resigned herself that the maid would continue to assist her whether she wanted her to or not. She didn’t want her to see the jagged scar on her leg, though.  “What’s your name?”

The maid moved to help Johanna off with her chemise. “Sara.”

“I’d appreciate you leaving me now. I can do this by myself. I was a working-class woman and I’m not used to getting undressed in front of anyone.” She hoped that would be a good enough explanation.

“You’ll have to get used to that, Miss. You’re a married lady now.”

“I know that, but as you know, I don’t share a room with my husband.”

“That won’t be for long, but I’ll leave if you insist,” Sara said sadly.

Johanna didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Could you turn around until I get into the bath? Then you could help me wash my hair.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Sara whirled around to offer some semblance of privacy. Johanna quickly moved to remove her chemise when she noticed the curtains were open and Paul was in the manicured lawn, gazing up at her. She straightened her chemise and pulled the curtains closed. Why, Paul was no gentleman at all! Off flew her chemise and she carefully stepped into the bathtub, lowering herself into the warm water. When she was sure her leg wasn’t exposed, she said, “I’m ready now, Sara.”

Sara washed her hair, chattering away. “I’m so glad Paul ordered a bride like he did. You’re so much nicer than I expected you to be.”

Johanna raised a brow. “Oh? How can you be so certain?”

“I could tell you didn’t want my help. I can’t imagine you came from a well-to-do family where you came from.”

“You’re right. And I wouldn’t need to become a mail-order bride if my family was well off, but my sister married well, though. Her husband died a year ago, but left her a healthy sum.”

“Oh, how sad. I hope she’s doing okay.”

“Actually, I think she’ll do fine. She already has her eye on her late husband’s brother, Edgar.”

“Oh, my. That sounds scandalous.”

Johanna didn’t know if she should tell Sara anymore about her sister. She had never had a maid before, but she imagined ladies didn’t do things like that. Her leg began to cramp the way she had it turned to the side, but she couldn’t risk anyone seeing her scar, even if she knew Paul would see it eventually.

She did her best to lean her head back while Sara first shampooed then rinsed her hair. She actually enjoyed the way she massaged her scalp. Johanna was grateful Sara had insisted upon helping her.

Sara disappeared out the door to allow her some privacy after the last of the shampoo was rinsed out. Johanna took a whiff of the rose soap, lathering up and dunking under the water to rinse. She reached for a towel and stood up, toweling off. She then remembered she hadn’t brought any clean clothing into the washroom. Luckily, the towel reached all the way to her toes and she quickly crossed the hallway. She ventured a glance down the hall, relieved Paul was nowhere to be found.

Johanna walked into her room and quickly gathered her stockings, putting them on before Sara decided to come help her. The stockings were black and concealed her scar. She found her last clean chemise and put that on just as there was a knock on the door. Walking over, she pulled the door open with a smile, expecting Sara—not Paul, who was actually the one on the other side of the door. She jumped behind the door so only her head was exposed.

He quickly averted his eyes. “Sorry. I thought you might be dressed by now. Should I send Sara to assist you?”

“Please.”

Johanna closed the door and her heart thumped hard in her chest. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Paul seeing her in that state of undress. How could he have actually thought she was dressed already? She wouldn’t mention anything about how he spied her from outside while she was getting ready for her bath.

That time, when there was yet another knock on the door, Sara said, “It’s me, Miss.”

Johanna answered the door and picked up her corset. Shimmying into it, she turned her back to Sara who then laced and tightened it. When she didn’t tighten it to the point where she would faint, Johanna had to ask, “Have you worked as a lady’s maid before?”

“Oh, no, but my mother taught us girls how to be one if such a position becomes available. I never knew I’d be of much use other than serving or cleaning.”

“I’ll ask Paul if you can assist me on a regular basis. I don’t need all that much help besides with my hair or fastening my corset, but I’d like to have someone to talk to, other than my husband.”

Sara’s eyes watered. “Do you mean it? I’d love to do that.” She frowned. “If Mr. Worthington allows it.”

“I’ll make sure he does.” Johanna winked. Her heart soared at how excited Sara was about helping her. Was it too much to hope that she’d find a true confidant in Sara?

Sara’s last task was to help Johanna don a beige linen dress with tiny rose buttons, even if they were only for decoration and not needed for keeping the dress closed. She wasn’t sure how cool or warm it was outside, but would rather not be weighed down with a heavier dress. It was bad enough that ladies were required to wear so many articles of clothing under their dresses.

“Thank you so much, Sara. Paul is taking me to a seamstress today I think, but I wouldn’t mind horribly if he bought me some bolts of fabric. I rather like making my own dresses.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure Mr. Worthington wouldn’t allow you to do that. You probably have more important things to busy yourself with.”

“Such as?”

“Many ladies meet for luncheons. Perhaps in time, you’ll meet some of the other lumber barons’ wives.”

Johanna wasn’t so sure, but she agreed anyway. “I do hope so. It will be rather lonely otherwise.”

She pinched her cheeks before she left her room and descended the stairs. She was much too pale, but it was something she was used to. A stark change from her dark hair, which made her skin appear even whiter.

Paul met her when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “You look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you.”

She took her husband’s hand, and they walked into the dining room where the sideboard was laid out with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. They filled their plates and sat down. A maid came into the room and poured Johanna a cup of tea, asking her if she cared for any orange juice, darting off when she said yes.

Johanna layered her pancakes with syrup. “I was wondering, Paul.”

“About?”

“Would it be possible for Sara to be my lady’s maid? I’d rather have her assist me. It’s so hard to tighten my own corset.”

Paul gazed at her. “I could always help you with that,” he teased. When Johanna stared wide-eyed at him, he quickly added, “I was only kidding, dear. I had hoped you’d like Sara. She’s a lovely girl and in need of another position here. Mother isn’t fond of her.”

“Oh, and why ever not?”

“Mother can be difficult with the staff, but now that you’re my wife, I think you need to take charge of them.”

“But I have no idea how to do that.”

“You’ll learn. Plus, it’s your place as lady of the house. Take your time and get to know them. I consider them to be both reliable and friendly. I wouldn’t have hired them otherwise.”

Johanna wanted to ask him how his mother felt about that, but she didn’t want him to think she planned to not get along with Cecilia. She obviously was important to Paul or she wouldn’t be living with him.

“So, where are we going again?”

“The seamstress. Natasha is very skilled and can create even the most current styles.”

“You could just buy me bolts of fabric. If I had a sewing machine, I could make my own dresses.”

Paul chewed his pancakes and swallowed hard. “Is that what you did in the factory you worked at?”

“No, fabric was woven with machines. It was my job to clear the machine if it jammed.” It was also how her leg had been injured, when the machine came apart, but she wasn’t ready to tell Paul that just yet. She thought he’d reject her for certain if he knew.

“I have a pump pedal sewing machine in the sewing room.”

“You have a sewing room?”

“Yes. Nobody uses it, but Mother insisted it would be a welcomed addition to the house. She’s wanted me to get married and have a family for years.”

“How do you feel about that, having children?”

“I love children. Plus, I see no sense in building up my mill if I have no children to leave it to, if the lumbering is able to continue in Michigan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lumberjacks have been cutting down white pines for over ten years now. Nobody knows how long the trees will last. I only hope it’s not soon. I’d hate to see a place like Saginaw become a deserted ghost town.”

This worried Johanna considerably. “What would you do then?”

Paul smiled. “We’ll leave when you’re finished.” He excused himself and left the dining room.

Why didn’t he answer my question? Is he afraid of thinking about what he’d do? How long would the white pines last?

Johanna finished her orange juice and walked out of the dining room to find out where Paul had gone. Sara was waiting outside and she knew Paul must have told her she could be Johanna’s lady’s maid from the smile that spread across her face.