Josie: Bride of New Mexico (American Mail-Order Bride 47) (8 page)

Adam had planned his bride’s wedding gift from the very beginning.

But he’d thought to give her this gift of a new wardrobe at home. He’d known his mill-worker wife would have few to no nice things and given he had the ability to provide her with exquisite clothing and shoes he definitely wanted to do so.

He’d needed to make a few adjustments in the plan such as inviting the seamstress along for the ride, promising her triple the pay for the week she’d be away from her shop, meals, and if she’d care to work with his stewards in the private car, another set of wages.

“Josie, Darling, have a seat right here.” He eased her into her chair at the table that had been cleared from their afternoon repast.

Happiness lit her eyes. “A gift?”

“Yes. Give me just a moment.” He strode up the passage toward the front of the car and the staff’s domain. He found Mrs. Bushnell washing dishes in the galley.

Adam gestured for the woman to dry her hands. “Mrs. Bushnell, it’s time.”

Back before his wife, Adam said, “May I introduce Mrs. Bushnell, who’s traveling with us as far as necessary. Afterward, she will likely return home and begin sewing the wardrobe I’ve commissioned.”

Josie looked from Mrs. Bushnell, to him, and back again. “I don’t understand.”

“I want to give you a beautiful wardrobe, filled with lovely things to wear.”

Josie froze. His comments an instant reminder of her poverty, their differences. “Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.

She could see that her reaction disturbed Adam. “Do you remember what your sister said in the train station upon meeting you?”

“She said a great many things, I recall.”

“Yes. And one of them was her insistence that if we, Richard and I, had wanted brides with trunks filled with fashionable gowns, we shouldn’t have required brides who’d worked in mills or factories.”

“I remember.”

“And you and I had a serious conversation, not long ago, about my purposes in sending for you as my bride.”

The intensity in her husband’s gaze, the remembered comments that had filled her with a strange weightlessness she still couldn’t identify— all of this returned. He’d chosen
her
. He wanted
her
, not a fancy woman with gowns in trunks and he wanted
her
to be who she was.

Apparently, he wanted her to be who she was and dressed finely, too.

“Will you allow me to follow through with my wedding gift? Will you work with Mrs. Bushnell and allow her to measure you, select fabrics and with your instruction, begin working?”

Josie was hesitant to agree, feeling like this was yet another concession and not knowing why. “For a few things. Thank you.”

“You need a wardrobe fit for winter, and more for spring. Then the heat of summer. You need a coat, winter petticoats, dresses for formal occasions and dresses for everyday use.”

“One will do.”

“Please, Darling. Allow me to spoil you, won’t you?”

She couldn’t help softening toward him.

Why did she want to resist such a generous-hearted man?

Affection warmed his gaze. “I want very much to care for you, and this is one way I’ve been looking forward to for months.”

The thought that he’d planned and made arrangements, long before she’d noticed his advertisement and sent the telegram… it made her resistance seem foolish.

“Months?”

“Since I placed that ad in
Groom’s Gazette
. I’ve dreamed of this wedding gift all that time. The change in plans as to where we’d be in the first weeks of our marriage threw a wrench in the works, but Mrs. Bushnell was flexible enough to travel with us. Won’t you humor me?”

His bride still seemed reluctant to accept his gift, so he pulled out his ace. “It seems to me you embarked this journey without so much as a reticule. I believe all you have is the clothes on your back.”

Josie’s eyes rounded then closed in obvious realization that all he said was true.

Adam nudged Mrs. Bushnell. It was high time the woman explained her purpose.

“Mrs. Taylor, I’ve brought along many ready-made things I can tell already will make you a good fit. A nightgown for example. You’ll be so much more comfortable for sleep tonight with something fresh to wear.”

“Thank you.”

He’d warned the woman, whose creations were often seen about Ogden City at the Opera House, social functions, displayed by the wives of judges and senators, months ago, that she was not to give any hint of distaste for the circumstances the new Mrs. Taylor would find herself in. If she came prepared with trunks of lovely clothing, she would simply complement and enrich, add to her own choices. If Adam’s new wife wore rags— which from the state of the singular dress, patched, shiny and threadbare between the patches, dull and dismal— the later far more applied, she would see to it Mrs. Taylor received the deference and care due a foreign monarch.

Adam had paid her an exorbitant fee to be entirely available to him for the adornment of his wife for the weeks following her arrival.

He intended to see Josie delight in his gift.

She seemed to think it over, but he knew he’d won her approval. “Thank you, Adam. I’m humbled and honored. And I accept.”

“Wonderful!” Mrs. Bushnell exclaimed. “I have a few ready-made things I’d love to give you now. I brought a trunk of possibilities on board, but most will require adjustments. I had no idea how tall you might be, or of what size.”

Josie watched as the older lady unveiled a blue satin day dress, while Adam watched Josie. She stared at the frilly concoction for a long moment and slowly reached out to touch it. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, la, it is indeed. Thank you, child. Please, won’t you put it on?”

Josie nodded and took the dress into their bedroom. She returned a few minutes later. She looked breathtaking.

Spectacular.

He reacted like any husband would, he imagined, his chest puffed up with pride, affection, and a sense of satisfaction that Josie was his, and his alone.

He liked it.

The parade of fashion he’d imagined even before he know Josie, would be an absolute delight.

No better way to spend the evening.

“Mrs. Bushnell, can you finish any minor alterations with the nightgown? My bride wishes to bathe tonight, and I’d like to see her have her night clothes ready to don.”

“With pleasure, Mr. Taylor.”

In early to mid October, the sun set before supper time.

She’d worked with Mrs. Bushnell for what felt like two hours, examining lovely fabrics, looking through design books, discussing options and the styles Josie enjoyed most.

Through it all, Adam had sat in an upholstered chair with a grin on his far too handsome face.

How he found so very much joy in giving, in pleasing her, she didn’t quite understand.

But he did— and as she realized her acceptance of his gifts made him happy, she determined she would forever respond favorably.

Adam Taylor truly was a charming, endearing man. He would be so very easy to love.

If she dared admit it to herself, this long, emotional, and exhausting day had shown her many different sides of her husband… different sides she knew she
would
love. In some ways, she was already halfway in love with him.

The day had been lengthy, emotional, and exhausting.

She wanted nothing more than to get past the uncomfortable first night’s ritual of turning in together. Going to bed tomorrow night and each night thereafter would become ever so much easier.

She didn’t own a timepiece, but the more Adam checked his, the more she wanted to ease his discomfort. He was obviously as nervous as she, though Mrs. Bushnell had bade them goodnight and gone to her quarters. The stewards had left them alone, too.

She met his gaze, charmed again by the compelling blue of his eyes. Would she ever grow used to them? “Would you mind, very much, if I took a few moments to wash up?”

“You’re welcome to use the bathtub. Come, I’ll show you how to fill it.”

“No—no, that’s quite all right.” She bit her lip, wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“I promise to allow you ample time and privacy.”

And that quickly, she remembered her vow to receive his gifts with grace and simply than him. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

His wide smile made her insides tingle.

He took pride in showing her how to operate the tub, how to stop the drain, find the temperature she enjoyed most, and brought out soaps and creams, comb and brush, toothpaste and toothbrush. “Do you need anything else?”

“A towel?”

He opened the cupboard and put a bath mat on the floor before the tub for her, then set two large, soft-looking towels in a lovely shade of yellow over two hooks within easy reach of the bath.

“Anything else?” His expression seemed so hopeful, she searched her mind for anything she might ask of him… anything at all.

It seemed far too early to ask him to stay, to wash her back…

She could unbutton her own simple dress easily enough by herself.

Clothes! She laughed with nervousness. “I need the nightgown and underthings Mrs. Bushnell brought for me.”

“I’ll get them.” Adam darted out of the bathroom, and returned momentarily with the neatly folded stack in his hands. He set them on an empty lower shelf in the bathroom. Evidently the place set aside for clean clothes. Perfect.

“Thank you.” She told him, reaching for him out of habit, the way she might touch her sister in passing… a squeeze on the arm, a hug around her waist.

Her husband responded with the same kind of eagerness to touch her in return. He looped his arm around her waist and drew her close. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then lingered, as if holding her in the bathroom were the most natural thing in the world.

She couldn’t help but grin. She could become quite used to this man’s efforts to take care of her. It all seemed so natural, so easy for him. No wonder Richard, who knew this man so well, had assured Lessie that Adam would take splendid care of Josie, his wife.

She was this amazing man’s
wife
.

And he wanted to make her comfortable, please her, see her smile, provide the simplest of pleasures and also the greatest of gifts… such as an entire wardrobe filled with ten times the lovely things she needed.

And this was just the beginning.

Chapter Ten