Lessie: Bride of Utah (American Mail-Order Bride 45) (5 page)

Oh,
wonderful
. Lessie, the strong, capable sister, stuck with sour-faced Mr. Cannon. But if either of them could handle the boor, it would be she. No way could soft-spirited, kind-hearted Josie. She’d wither within a week of marriage to this curmudgeon.

But Lessie understood this marriage agreement was just another job. A job that paid but came with the protection of marriage, a home, a man to be the wage-earner. Did it really matter who she married?

“I see, Mr. Cannon, I’ve drawn the short straw.”

He laughed aloud, softening the stark lines of his face, relaxing the tension in his jaw. The gentle rumble of honest laughter made him almost attractive.

And showed off his good teeth to their best advantage.

Maybe life with him wouldn’t be entirely awful.

“Perhaps you’re correct, Miss Hadley.” He reached for her bundle and actually took the smudged knot from her hand. “Yet it appears I’ve received exactly what I wished for.”

Obviously they’d started off on the wrong foot. Or maybe Miss Cranky Lessie, his apparent bride-to-be required food. She must be hungry, as skin-and-bones as she was, too thin by far to be a genuine beauty— though her darker-than-dark brown eyes sparkled with vitality and good health. Dark hair, olive complexion, and flashing eyes that could burn a man at ten paces.

Truly lovely.

“This fine new rail station has a restaurant right here. Let’s go sit a spell and eat.”

He checked his pocket watch, just in case, and found they did indeed still have two hours until they had to be at the church for the double wedding.

He’d feed the young ladies, see if that didn’t improve Miss Lessie’s snappish disposition, and if time allowed, it wouldn’t hurt to see about buying them something better to wear to church.

By comparison, Richard and Adam were overdressed in Sunday-best suits, bowlers, and gold pocket watch chains. Their brides dressed like hard-working impoverished young women, their dresses heavily patched and threadbare. Pastor Wilson would scowl at the difference and would likely imply the heirs of Cannon Mining could dress their brides better.

“Thank you, Mr. Cannon,” one of the beauties said… must be Sassy Lessie because he still hadn’t heard Josie make a peep. “We have just eaten.”

“Humor us, ladies, please.” He tried to borrow some of Adam’s charm. “We want very much to have a nice visit, provide you a chance to rest before the ceremony. Besides, we’re hungry.”

Miss Sassy… maybe he’d call her Sassafras… was so busy clinging to her sister’s hand, Richard figured she wouldn’t accept his offer, but he gave her his arm anyway.

She glanced at it like it might bite her.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Tentatively, she placed her little hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her through the crowded station toward the restaurant. This time of day, not many travelers had sought a bite to eat, so the hostess seated them quickly.

Thank goodness. He had to get some food into this gal and quick.

When the waitress came around, Richard made sure Adam understood the plan without saying more than, “Boy, I sure am hungry.” The two of them ordered plenty enough for all of them.

But when the food arrived, he found Sassafras sticking to her guns, refusing to eat.

Hmmm
.

He picked at a sandwich, ate a pickle or two, and drank his tea.

And tried not to watch the happenings between Adam and soft-spoken Miss Josie. Why were they off to a good start while he struggled to have a pleasant conversation with his bride?

When they couldn’t drag the meal out any longer, and he’d failed to tempt Lessie into a single bite, he suggested, “We’ve got plenty of time. Let us walk over to the dressmaker’s on 25th and see if she has something pretty all made up you ladies would like to wear for the ceremonies.”

Immediately, he knew he should’ve asked Adam to charm the ladies into accepting.

Lessie folded her arms. “No thank you, Mr. Cannon. We have everything we need.”

He’d furnished little things of comfort for her at home, such as a brush and comb, a vanity table, creams and lotions, but no clothing. He’d had no idea what to have made or where to begin. Women came in so many shapes, sizes, and heights.

He’d have to correct that misstep, right away.

Didn’t all women want what men— especially
their
men— could provide? Richard shot a questioning glance at Adam but found the poor fool grinning at his bride. He whipped his attention back to Lessie. “Didn’t our advertisement ask
specifically
for
good-natured
women to apply? Cooperative and desirous of marital harmony?”

She glared at him darkly, “You don’t understand much about women, Mr. Cannon, do you?”

“Apparently I do not.” What was he supposed to do? Go home and change into workman’s clothes to stand up in the church and wed his bride?

Without saying another word, Miss Sassy Lessie Anne followed her sister out of the restaurant.

Only her twin had taken Adam’s arm and sported the happiest of grins upon her face.

Ah, look at that. His own bride could be a beauty… if only she’d smile.

And suddenly, he had no greater objective, nothing he wanted more than her smile, directed
at him
.

Let her stand up in the church, marry in a working dress that’d seen at least six years’ hard washings and even harder wear, and worse, had obviously been made for someone with wider shoulders and a more generous curves… a
decade
ago. Fine. Whatever the lady wanted the lady would have.

But she
would
smile. She’d look at him, and she’d offer an honest, genuine smile.

One way or the other, that’s exactly what Richard Cannon would make happen.

Chapter Four

The First Baptist Church stood on the corner of 24th Street and Grant Avenue, not far from Union Station. A short drive, but long enough Richard noticed his bride-to-be kept her attention on the donkey-pulled trolley cars, other carriages, the various houses and buildings… anything but him. Nor did she pay much heed to her happy sister or Adam in the back seat.

Was she nervous? Fearful? Doubting her decision to wed a stranger?

Ditto. In that moment he couldn’t remember what had possessed him to offer marriage via telegram and sight unseen.

So upon arrival at the church and introductions to Pastor Moody, Richard had most definitely not expected Miss Sassafras Lessie to smile
at him
so readily.

He’d been prepared to work for it.

She’d greeted the minister then turned to him, and her uncertain, timid smile revealed a glimmer of what made her tick.

Oh, yes. Definitely w
orry. Fear. Doubt.

He understood all three, far too well.

Understanding what lay behind the bluster and quick tongue, refusal of a meal and a simple change of clothes… it all made sense.

She wanted— no, she
needed—
reassurance.

Against his will, compassion for this girl flooded his mind and his heart.

He could give her a sense of safety, protection, and so much more. He could ease her fears, see to it her worries faded. One of a husband’s greatest joys in life came from sheltering his wife from concerns of the world. This tough-spirited young woman hadn’t had the protection of a man in a very long while. If ever, for all he knew.

No wonder.

He lowered his head, leaned near her ear so only she could hear. “I promise you, Miss Hadley, everything will be fine. I swear it.”

In easing her fears, his own doubts about marrying the independent Miss faded. Things would be fine. He
would
see to it.

“Marriage licenses?” Pastor Moody knew enough to turn to Adam for such details. “You’ll serve as one another’s witnesses. We’ll complete the paperwork at the conclusion of the ceremonies.”

Josie and Adam were wed first in a simple and brief rite that had Richard contemplating the serenity on his cousin’s face… and the captivating smile on Josie’s.

Once Richard succeeded in banishing Lessie’s worry, fears, and doubts, she
would
smile at him in that way, and the payoff would be glorious.

Adam slipped his ring on Josie’s finger, then kissed her as his wife.

The minister called Richard and Lessie forward.

The sun must have reached a perfect afternoon angle in the sky, for brilliant jewel-toned light streamed through the stained glass window and illuminated Lessie’s olive complexion and pooled on her hair, nearly as black as his own.

He didn’t know what he expected, but found himself surprised she held his gaze, really looked at him while the minister spoke of the duties and responsibilities of marriage.

Everything will be fine.

He smiled to offer encouragement and hope.

Richard spoke the words the minister gave him, watching the soft brush of her lashes against cheeks bearing stained-glass sunbeams.

Pastor Moody must’ve asked her to repeat her vows, for she spoke. The movement of her lips drew Richard’s attention.

When the time came, he slipped his plain gold band onto Lessie’s finger.

So uncomplicated, this token of marital vows, and in the moment he regretted not spending more. Would a heavier, more substantial piece, one bearing diamonds or emeralds or rubies have given Lessie a greater sense of hope? Stability? Permanence?

Probably.

He’d not considered what his ring might symbolize to her when he’d made the purchase.

He should’ve spent more. Ten times more.

Without waiting for Pastor Moody’s instruction, Richard raised her hand, bowed to meet his ring upon her finger, and pressed his lips to the gold, already warming with the heat of her body.

He met her gaze, his lips lingering on her skin.

He noted her unsteady intake of breath, the subtle widening of her eyes, the reality that she really
saw
him.

Him. Richard.

One man.

Her husband.

“You may kiss your bride.”

With hesitancy he didn’t understand, Richard released her hand, and pulled Lessie,
Mrs. Richard Cannon
, into his arms. He’d intended a quick peck on the lips to seal their marriage vows. Who expected more under circumstances like these?

But he found himself holding her close, lifting her onto her toes as his mouth found hers.

The press of her lips to his, so tentative, so innocent was heralded by a shock of recognition.

My
wife
.

Mine
.

Applause thudded dully in his ears. Their small audience, Adam and Josie.

With reluctance he
did
comprehend, Richard released the kiss, set his bride onto her feet and quelled the rush of insistence to kiss her again.