Mail Order Bride: Ramona (5 page)

Chapter Seven

Michael

Michael kept sneaking sidelong glances at the woman sitting
next to him in the wagon. He still couldn’t believe she was here. To Michael,
Ramona—with her exotic mountain of curls and huge brown eyes— looked just like
the glamorous women he’d seen on stage at the Austin Theater. He’d been to see
a show with Tony and one of his many beaus the previous year. Ramona looked
like she should be on stage, not marrying someone like him. She was sitting so
close to him in the wagon Michael was becoming even more nervous with each
passing moment. He pondered over what he could say to her to break the awkward
silence that had descended between them, but even when he finally thought of
something his throat seemed to constrict and he couldn’t speak.

Luckily for him, Ramona was both talkative, and seemingly
oblivious to how nervous he was. She broke the silence between them happily,
and filled the night air with her silken voice. Her chatter helped him to relax
a little as he guided the horse and wagon around town and home to his newly
built, little, house. In the weeks since he had first decided to find a bride,
Michael had purchased a new home, built by one of Tony’s cousins. It was small
but quaint and in a good neighborhood that was filling up with similar newly
built houses. Ramona nattered happily about her trip to Austin, and then moved
on, telling Michael all about her dreams of singing and dancing on Broadway.

“I’ve been dancing since I was four years old,” she said,
craning her neck to take in her surroundings in the dark city. “It’s always
been my dream to sing and dance on stage.”

She sounds a little sad.

Michael slapped Sadie with the reins, and she jumped
forward into a quick trot.

“Austin is quite a modern town, really,” Michael said
quietly. “There are a lot of artistic types here. I think you’ll fit in just
fine,” he said.

Ramona paused for a second before she nodded her head
quickly and smiled brightly. “Perhaps.”

They navigated their way through the construction site of
the capital building where Michael worked. He pointed out the area where he was
currently working, and told her a little about his job. He told her about the
foreman, and about Tony.

“Tony’s always been there for me, since I don’t have any
family in these parts. He’s Italian too, you know? Like you.”

“Oh?” she said. “I look forward to meeting him. You’ll have
to introduce us soon,” Ramona said.

Then, furrowing her brow a little she added. “Michael, you
don’t know anyone who works at the University of Texas, do you?”

Michael shook his head as the wagon left the construction
site and headed toward the neighborhood where Michael’s small house sat perched
on a crest. “No, sorry,” he said. “I don’t know anyone in those circles.”

“Oh,” Ramona said, leaning back against the seat. Michael
heard the disappointment in her voice.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Ramona said quickly. “I was just curious,
that’s all. Never mind.”

“I can take you up there if you like,” Michael said, keen
to see her smile again. “We can go look at the university together. I’ve never
been, really, but I know there’s nice parks on the grounds, with fountains and
places to sit. We could sit, have a little picnic.”

Ramona nodded her head. “That sounds nice,” she said,
leaning her head back against the leather seat. “Right now, all I know is that I’m
awful tired after my trip. Let’s do it soon though.”

“You got it.”

“Michael, where are we going?”

“Uh. Oh, sorry. I should have told you. Back to my house.”

“Oh!”

“I mean, not just us – Fred and Mary will be there too.
They’re friends of mine. They’ve agreed to stay with us until the wedding.”

Ramona shifted in her seat, and coughed loudly, covering
her mouth with her gloved hand.

Michael frowned. “I thought about putting you up at a
hotel, but then decided you might be more comfortable at the house. ‘Course if
you’d rather…”

“No, no. That sounds fine. Really, please don’t trouble
yourself. I’m sure it will be wonderful.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, Michael was too
nervous to broach the topic of the wedding again. When he’d mentioned it, she
had jumped in place, as though a bolt of lightning had gone straight through
her.
There’s something on her mind. And I don’t know what it is. Maybe she
is just tired after all, like she said.
Michael gripped the reigns tightly
as he steered the wagon home.

Now that she’s seen Austin, and seen me, it’s likely she
won’t want to go through with it anyway. I wonder what a girl like Ramona is
doing travelling across the country on her own to marry a stranger. A woman
like her, so beautiful and glamorous. She likely took one good look at me and
realized she’d made a huge mistake.

He turned to observe the girl curled up on the wagon seat beside
him, her large brown eyes already drooping closed, her head lolling to one
side.

I saw the disappointment on her face when I told her I
don’t know any university types. A girl like her, she must be used to spending
time with intellectuals and performers. I’ll likely never be enough for her.

When they arrived at the house, Ramona shook the sleepiness
from her limbs, and clambered out of the wagon on Michael’s arm. The cottage
was very cozy looking, and a soft light drifted from the front windows and
across the newly graveled garden path that led to a sturdy front door. Michael grabbed
Ramona’s luggage and helped her inside. A man and a woman seated before a
roaring fire jumped to their feet and hurried over to meet them.

“Ramona, this here is Mary, and her husband Fred.”

“How do you do?” Ramona greeted them with a curtsey, and
the two women shook hands.

“They’re goin’ to be stayin’ here with us, ‘til the
wedding.”

“Oh, of course. How lovely, it will be so much fun – all
bunking together.” Ramona smiled warmly at the couple, who beamed back at her.

“We’re so pleased to meet you, Ramona. You just make
yourself at home here, we’ll stay out of your way. This is your home now, and
you’re mighty welcome in it,” said Mary, grasping Ramona’s hand once more, her
bright eyes twinkling.

“Thank you Mary.”

“Come now, I’ll show you to your room,” said Michael,
leading the way.

As he showed her to the spare bedroom, Michael made a vow
to himself not to give up on her too quickly.
Perhaps I can prove that I am
good enough to be her husband,
he thought, showing Ramona to her bedroom as
he placed her satin bag down at the base of the four poster bed.

“She’s all set then?” Mary appeared behind Michael and
followed him out of Ramona’s room and down the hall.

“Yes. And I really want to thank you and Fred for staying
here with us.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Nothin’ to it Mike, we’re delighted to do it.” Fred was
seated in the living room back in front of the fire reading a book.

“The house is lovely, by the way,” said Mary, sitting down
beside Fred on a wooden chair that Michael had whittled from a leftover piece
of oak.

“Thank you kindly. I’m very happy with it. I just hope
Ramona will be content here, too.”

“Of course she will be. What more could any woman want?”
Mary smiled warmly at him, and picked up a half-finished shawl she was
knitting.

Michael snuck down the hallway five minutes later to say
goodnight to Ramona and to see if she needed anything else, but Ramona had
already fallen to sleep. The rhythmic sound of her breathing drifted out to him
through the open door, and he pulled it closed behind him with a smile. As he
strode toward his own bedroom, he couldn’t help wondering what the future might
be like, and hoped that his days of loneliness were finally over.

***

The next morning, Michael was summoned to the front door by
a loud knocking. Then Tony’s voice bellowed loudly through the house. “Michael!
Come on. We’re going to be late for work.”

Michael hurried to the door, pulling on his boots as he
went.

“Shhh,” he said. “Ramona’s sleeping. She’s exhausted. I’m running
late ‘cause I was creeping around, trying to be real quiet so as not to wake
her.”

Tony shook his head and tutted.

Walking to the construction site, Tony had plenty to say.
“She’s already got you under her spell. I hope you ain’t gonna make a habit of
being late. I see she’s the sort of princess type that likes to lay around all
day long. I won’t say I told you so, but.”

“Go easy Tony. It’s only her first morning after a long
trip.”

“So, she’s not a princess then?”

Michael paused before he spoke.

“She wears her hair in this real modern style,” Michael
commented. “People around here might think it’s too modern.” In fact he was worried
they would think Ramona was too modern, all round.

“I told you so,” Tony said pointedly. “Those New York women,
they ain’t got no place around here.” He lowered his voice. “And she’s foreign
on top of all that, ain’t she?”

“Italian parents,” Michael rolled his eyes. “Like you, Tony.
She was born and raised in New York. But none of that matters a jot to me
anyhow.”

“I’ll say it again. You should wait for a good old-fashioned
pioneering woman. Someone used to the frontier life. That’s what I’m fixin’ to
do. It won’t be long before this town is crawling with women. And a handsome
man like yourself ain’t gonna have any trouble finding a sweet, practical woman
to marry. You don’t need a fancy New York type. She’ll be of no earthly use at
all. Mark my words.”

Michael didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to
think that Tony had a valid point. He wasn’t sure Ramona would ever really fit
here. He couldn’t imagine her raising babies, washing laundry, baking and doing
all the things that a pioneer woman had to do just to get by each day. It was a
grueling life, and Ramona didn’t look as though she knew much about hard work.
Michael had never met a woman like her before. Not in Texas, anyway.
Maybe
that’s how they all are in New York City, but around here she is going to stand
out like a sore thumb.

Not that Michael hadn’t already noticed the way that the
other men in town stopped and stared when Ramona passed by. As they rode home
in the wagon the previous evening, men had paused in the street, taken their
hats off and stared.

He pondered the situation all day long while they worked in
the heat of the Texas sun. Walking home that evening, he wondered whether he
should just ask her outright what she planned on doing.

I’ll talk to her tonight. I need to find out why Ramona
came to Texas, and if she still intends to become my wife. I need to find out
if she really means to marry me.

Chapter Eight

Ramona

When Ramona awoke the next morning, it took her a moment to
remember where she was. Looking around the room, it all came rushing back to
her. She was at Michael’s house, in Austin, Texas. The morning light poured
through the window, already bringing with it the promise of a warm winter’s day.
The bed she lay in looked as though it had been hewn by hand from a thick log,
wooden nails held each piece in place. The straw tick rustled beneath her, and
she could smell the freshly dried grasses through the linens. A hand-whittled
rocker sat beside the bed, with an extra crocheted blanket spread over one arm.
A rustic vase, made of clay and filled with fresh flowers, sat gaily on a small
table against the wall. Ramona sighed with pleasure. The room really was very homely.
She tried to remember what the rest of the house had looked like, but it had
been so late when she’d arrived the previous night and she’d been so exhausted,
she couldn’t recall much about it.

Ramona crept down the stairs. The house was very quiet. She
noticed that the rest of Michael’s home matched her room nicely. Hand hewn and
whittled furniture decorated each room. The living room held a roaring fire in
a large fireplace on one wall, and the open area led into a snug kitchen and
pantry. From there, Ramona could see a door that appeared to open out into a
back yard. There were a few things that a woman’s touch could add to the home,
such as window dressings and rugs, but overall the house felt inviting and
comfortable. She saw Mary, sitting by the fire, darning a pair of pants.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” replied Mary, standing to her feet and
making her way into the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, my dear, we would have waited for you to eat
breakfast, but we weren’t sure when you might want to get up. You had a long
journey to recover from. The men have already eaten and gone to work, so we
have the house to ourselves,” said Mary, hurrying to get Ramona a plate.

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to wait. I can’t believe
how late I slept. I was so tired, and that bedroom is really very comfortable.”

“Michael made all the furniture himself. He’s got quite the
knack for it,” said Mary, handing Ramona a plate piled high with eggs, and a
slice of bread covered with butter and jam.

“Wow, he has a talent, that’s for sure.” Ramona walked to
the table and sat down to eat. Mary sat across from her, the knitting still in
her hands.

“Thank you. This is delicious,” Ramona bit hungrily into
the bread. She was famished after so many days of travelling.

“You’re most welcome. I’ll show you around today, and when
Michael and Fred come home from working on the new State Capitol tonight, maybe
we can have dinner waiting for them. What do you say?”

“That sounds great,” said Ramona, wondering how she was
going to find her mother if she was going to be stuck in the house all day,
every day, while Michael was at work.

I’ll just have to find a way. Perhaps I can borrow the
wagon. I’ll have to earn his trust, so that he lets me take it out on my own.
But how I wish I could just go to her now. Still, it is very cozy here, and
they have all been so very welcoming. It won’t be the worst thing to stay here
a bit until I can get my bearings and figure out where Mother is.

***

When Michael and Fred came home from work that evening, he
seemed to be in a pensive mood. Ramona watched him closely; he was even quieter
than he had been the previous evening. Mary and Ramona bustled about the small
kitchen, cooking fried bacon, cornbread and buttermilk for supper. Mary showed
Ramona where everything was located while they worked, and the two of them
chatted happily together.

Michael and Fred sat together by the fire, stoking it
occasionally while Fred puffed on a pipe.

“How’s the building coming along?” Mary called to them
both, from the kitchen.

“Fine. It’ll be another couple of years, they tell us,”
said Michael.

“Phew! That structure’s going to be something, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.”

Ramona listened intently to the exchange, hoping to get
some further insight into what Michael was like. The moment he’d walked in the
door after work she had felt her pulse quicken. There was something about him
that made her nervous, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to be
nearer to him. He had such a gentleness about him, and seemed to consider her
feelings in everything he said and did. She could already see the warmth in his
eyes when he looked at her.

Forget about Michael. I’m here to fetch Mother. I have
to focus on finding out when he can take me to the University. After Mother and
I return to New York I won’t ever see him again, so there’s no use in thinking
about him. I need to just get him out of my head.

“Come and get it!” called Mary, breaking through Ramona’s
reverie. Ramona removed her apron and wiped her hands clean before carrying
plates to the table.

The men made their way to the kitchen, Fred cleaning his
pipe out first. As Michael took his seat, his arm brushed against Ramona’s, sending
a wave of tingles through her body. She started and looked up at him in
surprise, wondering whether he had felt it too. His green eyes were staring at
her quizzically, as though he were trying to read her thoughts.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said politely as he removed his hat
and sat down.

“Did you have a nice day?” asked Ramona. Her voice was
uncharacteristically low.

“Thank you, I did. And you?”

The way he watched her made her squirm with pleasure. He
seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. Ramona nodded.

“Yes, thank you.”

They barely spoke for the rest of the evening. Fred and Mary
exchanged concerned glances. Fred shook his head at Mary, and she smiled
pityingly at the two of them.

“There’s chemistry there no doubt,” she whispered to Fred,
“but they’re each too afraid to speak to the other. I guess that will change
with time.”

“It’d better,” remarked Fred.