Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Weaver (13 page)

“Ebba, are you all right?” Charity asked.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired from all the excitement, I guess.”

“And no wonder,” Summer added. “I remember when a few folks stayed the night at the farm because of the snow when Clayton and I got married. But there weren’t nearly as many people at my wedding as yours.”

“And she doesn’t have the luxury of walking out of the church and going home,” Elle added. “She is home.”

“Maybe you should go upstairs and lie down,” Charity offered.

Ebba glanced at each of them. Would they think less of her if she took Charity up on her offer? She should stay and help … yet on the other hand, a few moments to herself would be heavenly. “Are you sure?”

All three women nodded. “Enjoy it while you can,” Elle said. “From the looks of things, a moment to yourself is going to be a rare thing around here.”

Ebba’s heart sank at the statement. Just as she’d been thinking … “Thank you,” she told them, then headed upstairs.

Once in her room, she sighed in relief and went to the window. She pushed back the lace curtain and gazed out upon the orchards below. Daniel’s room was at the front of the house and had a wonderful view of the apple trees and the little valley beyond. She noticed a wagon coming over the top of the rise and watched as it began its descent down to the farmhouse.

“More people,” she said to herself. “I wonder who.” She didn’t have to wait long to find out – as soon as the wagon got close enough, she was able to spot the pig. The Davises had arrived.

E
bba knew
she should go downstairs but couldn’t muster the energy. Now that she was alone, everything she’d been through since arriving in Denver was catching up to her: her parents’ death, working for horrible Mrs. Feldnick, meeting with Mrs. Pettigrew, the long trip, the ideas she’d had in her head about Daniel and his family, not to mention the expectations she’d set up …

None of those expectations remotely resembled the situation she found herself in – except for her allergies flaring up in the countryside, of course. That one, she’d hit the bull’s-eye.

She was surrounded by people here, almost two-dozen future relatives, and would continue to be for as long as she was married to this man. She was expected to work as hard as they did, from before sunup to after sundown, even in the fields. But that wasn’t what bothered her most. What did was that Daniel had accepted her ailment like it was nothing. He was willing to look past it and take her “as is.”

Ebba swallowed hard. The question was, was she willing to do the same for him and his family? Did she have the same fortitude to jump into this marriage with both feet as Daniel? Sure, mail-order brides and their grooms were strangers at the onset. But Daniel’s willingness to accept her while knowing she wasn’t the best candidate for farm life made it all seem – how should she put it – too good to be true? Yes, that was it.

But would he still accept her later, when she was unable to do the work required of her because of her constant sneezing?

She shook her head as she watched a portly, middle-aged man bring the wagon to a stop in front of the house, set the brake and climb down. He walked around the horses to get to the other side of the wagon and help his wife do the same while Matthew and his wife Charlotte maneuvered around the pig to disembark. She saw Mrs. Davis look at everything with either indifference or a disapproving.

Ebba glanced at the orchards and wondered why the woman couldn’t or wouldn’t appreciate the simple beauty of the little valley. Then again, maybe Mrs. Davis felt that when you’d seen one farm, you’d seen them all. Or maybe she just liked looking down on things. Based on meeting her back in Nowhere, that was a possibility.

Ebba went back to the bed, falling backwards onto the mattress and staring at the ceiling. The men would be coming into the house soon. What would they do for supper with all these extra people here? More would arrive tomorrow before the wedding. Then the Weavers would really have a houseful!

Ebba threw an arm over her eyes and tried not to think about it. No wonder Ma was on edge. Sheriff Hughes hadn’t chosen the best time to profess his love for the woman, even if the farm was taking on the atmosphere of a wedding celebration. Maybe that’s what prompted him to choose to do so, but her reaction couldn’t have been what he hoped for.

But then, what would she do or say on the day Daniel did the same? She let her arm slide onto the mattress. “Daniel …” she whispered. “Daniel.” She liked the sound of his name. “I love you.” But there was no heart behind her words, because they weren’t true. She didn’t love him, and wasn’t sure she could.

“Ohhhh, why do I always have to think like this?” She sat up and folded her hands in her lap. Was she getting cold feet? “If I am, that’s not going to do me much good.” No, indeed. Where would she go? What would she do? If the man she would marry tomorrow was confident they were going to be good together, then why couldn’t she be?

Because there are no guarantees, that’s why,
she thought to herself.
And once you’re married to this man, there’s no turning back …

Ebba took a deep breath and blew it out. “Why did I ever think I could become a mail-order bride?” she asked aloud. But then, what options did she have? It had been that or a lifetime of drudgery under the hectoring voice of Mrs. Feldnick. Better to marry a stranger – heck, better to die alone in the wilderness – than live under the thumb of that old biddy.

She sighed again and felt pathetic for doing so. What was wrong with her? What was she so afraid of? At least one of them was sure they’d be happy.

She smiled as she remembered the look on Daniel’s face as he held her in his arms on the porch swing.
“You and I are gonna be okay,”
he’d said. She could hear the smile in his voice and feel the surety of his words while in his arms. It was in that moment, miserable with her stuffy nose and watery eyes, that she believed him, if only briefly. How was she able to do it? She didn’t know.

Ebba only knew that she wanted to believe him again and hang onto that belief. The last thing she wanted to start her marriage out with was a bucketful of doubt. Right now, however, she felt like she had one of those buckets in each hand to carry down the aisle. Worse, she didn’t know how to let go.

B
y the time
supper rolled around the Weaver house was filled to the brim with people. Calvin, Bella and their – for lack of a better term – tribe were everywhere. Arlan, Samijo and their children, along with Ma, the Quinns and the Davises, took up the dining parlor, while the Rileys, Benjamin and Charity and their kids were in the kitchen. Sheriff Hughes, Daniel, Ebba and Truly (for the life of her, Ebba didn’t know how she wound up with the baby in her lap) were on the front porch.

The sheriff had taken the crates and placed them around the house and porch so people could use them as chairs. Daniel had also brought chairs down from some of the bedrooms. Everyone sat and visited, and when the notion took them, got up and went into the kitchen for chicken and biscuits.

It was noisy, it was loud and Nellie Davis’ occasional gasp of shock was the only interruption to the cacophony of laughter, shouting, backslapping, children crying and the clinking of dishes.
Good heavens
, Ebba thought at one point.
What was the actual wedding supper going to be like?
She certainly hoped it didn’t rain! She couldn’t imagine trying to stuff any more people into the house.

“We’re going to have to get up mighty early to get that cake done, girls,” Leona declared as she stepped onto the front porch with Ma and Betsy.

“So long as we all pitch in, we’ll have it baked up right quick, Leona,” Betsy said. “You don’t have to worry. I’d be more concerned about that pig getting done in time.”

Nellie Davis must have the hearing of an elephant, Ebba thought. In a flash she appeared in the doorway. “Don’t you worry none about that pig. My husband will have it roasted to perfection by the time we’re ready to eat.”

“As long as it’s done, that’s all that matters,” Ma said, then turned to Ebba. “And by the way, I moved the dress from the sewing room to your room, child.”

“Thank you, Ma,” Ebba said with a smile.

Nellie eyed her fellow matrons and raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Deep subject,” Harlan muttered. Daniel suppressed a snort.

“Well what?” Betsy asked, ignoring the men.

“Aren’t you going to show it to us?” Nellie asked, as if accusing someone of hiding something.

“The dress?” Ma said. “Ebba, do you mind?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Then why don’t you take her upstairs and show it to her? In fact, I’m sure Charlotte would love to see it as well.”

“If’n you can find Charlotte,” Daniel said with a smile. “I ain’t seen her for a while. Matthew wandered out here a few minutes ago, though.”

“Never mind about Matthew,” Nellie said with a roll of her eyes. “Why would he be interested in seeing a wedding dress?”

“Dunno,” Daniel said with a laugh. “But seein’ as how it’s
my
bride, I cain’t wait!”

Ebba blushed as she got up from her chair, passed the baby to Daniel and headed into the house. Nellie followed her up the stairs without a word. It made Ebba nervous and she quickened her step. “It’s in here,” she said as she opened the door. Ma had hung it on the armoire, freshly ironed and looking beautiful. In fact, every time Ebba saw it, a thrill of excitement went up her spine. It was too bad she’d only get to wear it once.

“Well, will you look at that,” Nellie said. “I must say, Miss Knudsen, I didn’t expect someone like you to have a dress like this. Did you make it yourself?”

Ebba’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. What did she mean,
someone like you
? “No, I didn’t. It was given to me.”

“A hand-me-down, I take it?”

Ebba briefly pressed her lips together before she spoke. “A gift.”

“How nice. From your … employer, perhaps?

“Employer? No, from Mrs. Pettigrew at the bridal agency.”

“Well, your Mrs. Pettigrew is quite generous. I can’t imagine giving such a frock away, even if it is … used.” She fingered the fabric, then looked at Ebba. “And you didn’t have to give Mrs. Pettigrew anything in return?”

“One usually doesn’t when it’s a gift.”

Nellie looked her up and down. “That wasn’t what I meant, but that’s none of your concern.”

Why was this woman acting so strangely? “Is there something wrong, Mrs. Davis?”

She turned away from the dress and crossed the room to the window. “You know I must commend you, Miss Knudsen. Never in my life have I known a girl to be so … shall we say,
bold
in your intentions toward your husband?”

“Bold?” Ebba echoed. “And he won’t become my husband until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Of course,” Nellie agreed. “All the same, you’re not one to mince words.”

Ebba blinked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

Nellie smirked. “Of course not. Well, it’s a lovely dress, Miss Knudsen, and I’m sure you’ll be very lovely in it.”

The woman wasn’t being forthright with her and Ebba knew it. “Is there something else you want to say to me?”

“Well,” Nellie said as she went to the door. “Even though the family you’re marrying into isn’t the most refined and certainly not the brightest, they’re still a part of Nowhere. And I must inform you that the people of Nowhere do not tolerate brazen women.”

Ebba’s eyes popped. “Brazen?!”

Nellie looked her up and down again. “Daniel Weaver is going to make an honest woman of you tomorrow – at least I hope he is. Try to be the wife he deserves.” She marched out of the room.

Ebba stood in shock. Where had that come from? What did she mean,
brazen woman?
And what was that about Daniel making an honest woman out of her? Good heavens, it was as if she thought Ebba was some sort of a … well, she wasn’t sure what exactly. She couldn’t possibly be comparing her to a woman of ill repute, could she? And if so, why would she?

Ebba wrung her hands as she went to the door and puzzled over Nellie’s words. “Who does that woman think she is?”

Then a thought struck. The odd looks she got in town before coming to the farm … not just the women gave her those looks, but the men too. Only the men looked at her differently: up and down, with more than a friendly gleam in their eyes …

“Brazen …” she mouthed to herself.

But why? Why would the townspeople of Nowhere assume she was a lady of the night? Had Daniel said something that led them to believe that? Perhaps she should ask him.

Then again, maybe it was just Nellie Davis. She’d heard stories from Summer and Elle earlier that day about Charlotte before she married Matthew Quinn, about the trouble she and her mother Nellie had caused them, not to mention Clayton and Spencer. But Charlotte had more than redeemed herself according to the Rileys. Perhaps her mother hadn’t, though. And Sheriff Hughes had said she always had “something in her craw” …

Well, whatever was going on, she needed to find out before it went any farther. Ebba blew out a breath, squared her shoulders and went back downstairs into the chaos.

C
layton Riley hadn’t been
to the Weaver farm in years. He was amazed at the size of the orchards the family had grown and cultivated in their little valley. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Arlan,” he said as they strolled into the nearest one. “You and your family have done right fine for yourselves since your pa died.”

“It wasn’t easy at times,” Arlan said, “but we’ve managed.”

“I can see that.” Clayton’s eyes slowly drifted to the setting sun. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Arlan turned to watch the sunset. “What’s on yer mind?”

“I don’t want this to sound wrong, or offend you, but … some of the folks in town have been talking about Daniel’s bride.”

Arlan’s head slowly rotated toward him. “Have they now? And just what are they sayin’?”

“Well, I myself overheard several women in the mercantile wonder about her past, that it might not be something one would expect in a bride.”

Arlan’s brow furrowed. “Expect? Or want?”

“The latter, actually. I’m not saying this to upset you or your family. I’m saying it so Daniel can have a chance to speak with her before they get hitched tomorrow. That way when they venture into town, folks giving them funny looks won’t come as no surprise.”

“What do ya mean? Just what are folks sayin’ about her? Be specific, Clayton. We’ve known each other for too long for ya to go around in circles.”

“I’m not going in circles, I’m just giving you what little I know. But it’s enough to make me think your brother should know too.”

“Then what’re ya doin’ standin’ here talkin’ to me when ya should be talkin’ to Daniel?”

“Because I think he’d take it better if it came from you.”

Arlan put his hands on his hips. “So what yer tellin’ me is folks in town are sayin’ my brother’s future bride is damaged goods?”

“That’s what’s being said, or something along those lines.” Clayton took off his hat and slapped it against his leg. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry, Arlan.”

“Nah, if folks are talkin’, then they had to’ve heard somethin’. That means someone started flappin’ their gums about her. How else could they hear anythin’?”

Clayton nodded. “I’ll give you two guesses. First one don’t count.”

“Nellie Davis,” Arlan groaned.

“But without any proof, who’s to say? I did ask a few folks, but they didn’t seem too eager to tell me.”

“Of course not, Clayton. Yer not a woman.” Arlan turned back to the sunset. “What are the men saying?”