Nordin, Ruth Ann - South Dakota Series 02 - Bid for a Bride (19 page)

"I like it here, and I like being a part of this family."

"Good."

They turned to the open door when they heard the horses outside the house.

"Is there anything else troubling you, Lucy?"

"No." She shook her head and returned the other woman’s smile. "I feel much better now."

"Glad to hear it." Eliza grabbed her hat and shawl and put them on. "You ready to go to church?"

Lucy nodded, relieved things had been resolved as easily as they had and followed Eliza out the door. If only things could have been handled so well with her real family.

***

October came and brought the fall colors Lucy loved. Whenever Lucy swept the front porch, she would make it a habit to stop, close her eyes, and take a deep breath. As Brian had said, there was a distinct smell in the air. It was hard to describe it, except it was noticeably different than what she noticed in the summer. The roof of the house reached far enough over the porch to give her adequate shade as she went about her task of sweeping. The wind made it a habit of blowing the leaves onto the porch, especially under the steps so she made it a point to sweep them out from under there too.

When she finished her task, she turned her attention to the blanket of leaves covering the ground. It really was a spectacular display of colors. Yellows, reds, oranges and browns covered nearly every blade of grass in front of the house. Brian mentioned liking the way the leaves sounded when he walked on them. Setting the broom against the steps, she closed her eyes and stepped forward. The leaves crunched beneath her shoes. Curious, she knelt down and reached out to touch them, noting that some were still soft and others brittle.

Picking a couple up, she brought them to her nose and inhaled.

Now she knew why fall smelled different. It was the leaves.

The sound of crunching leaves caused her to open her eyes. She smiled when she saw Brian walking along the rope that connected their house to John and Eliza’s. "I’m over here," she called out to him.

He halted and then bent down so he could walk under the rope.

She watched with interest as he used his walking stick to gauge his path.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Good. And yours?"

"Pa got called out to fix someone’s roof, so I spent the day doing odd jobs around the house for Ma."

"I’m sure she appreciated it."

Once he came up to her, he sat down. "Why are you sitting on the ground?"

"I’m not sitting. Not technically. I’m kneeling."

"Oh." Placing his stick beside him, he reached out for her. He touched her leg and traced it until he found her bent knees. "So you are."

She shifted so that she was sitting. Stretching her legs out in front of her, she said, "Now I’m sitting."

Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm. "You smell like leaves."

"I was touching them."

"You were?"

"I wanted to know why they fascinate you." She chuckled and leaned against him. "I even closed my eyes so I could experience them like you do."

"You did?"

"Sometimes I do that to get an idea of how you see the world. It helps me to understand what life is like for you, and in a way, it makes me feel closer to you."

"The world is better with you in it." He stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb. "Softer."

Reaching out to touch the side of her face, he kissed her. "More exciting." Then he brought his nose to her hair and inhaled. "More soothing."

"My hair is soothing?"

"Lavender. Something about it is calming."

She touched her hair which was pulled back into a bun. On impulse, she removed the pins holding it in place and let her locks fall in gentle waves down her back. Bringing his hand to her hair, she asked,

"What does it feel like to you?"

"I like it when it’s down."

She snuggled up to him. "So what do you think of when you touch it?"

With a wicked grin, he said, "The bed."

"The bed?" She thought that was odd since it didn’t feel like sheets to her.

"You wear it down when we’re in bed."

Her face warmed. "Oh, I suppose I do that sometimes. But what does it feel like? It doesn’t feel like the bed."

"Silk. Soft but slick."

"Except when it’s a tangled mess."

"Yes, but that’s usually after we’re in bed, so I like it best when it’s tangled."

Grinning, she got on her knees and leapt at him, knowing it would take him by surprise since he couldn’t see her. He fell onto his back and pulled her with him. She shouted, even as she laughed.

"That’s sneaky," he said, wrapping her in his arms.

She giggled and kissed him. "Why? You don’t mind it when I get persistent in the bedroom. Why should you mind out here?"

"We’re outside."

"So?" She scanned the property. "There’s no one around. Who says we can’t make love out here?"

"Well, I…" He shrugged. "No one."

"Wouldn’t you like to be surrounded by the leaves while we make love?"

"But it’s chilly out."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "So? We can keep each other warm. As I recall, things heat up once we get started." After she gave him another kiss, she asked, "What do you think? Your favorite time of year with your favorite wife?"

Laughing, he rolled over and she landed softly on her back. He settled next to her. "My favorite wife?

As if I have more than one? You’re a temptress, you know."

"Only with you."

Caressing her chin, his lips met hers.

She brought her hand up to the back of his neck and massaged it right before she felt their baby move.

She ended the kiss and took his hand so she could place it on her belly. "I felt the baby."

He waited, his hand on the small bulge, and when she felt the baby kick, a broad smile crossed his face.

"Was that the baby?"

"Yes. It’s your baby, Brian. I’m so glad it’s your baby."

"I can’t wait to hold him."

"Or her. It could be a girl."

"Or her." He chuckled. "I hope it’s a girl. You seem to want one in the worst way."

"I have a girl’s name picked out but not a boy’s. It’d be easier this way."

"Then what will you do with the next one? Do you have another girl’s name picked out?"

She blinked in surprise. "Well, no. I didn’t think past the first one."

"We should come up with a list of names then. You can write them down so we won’t forget."

"That sounds like a wonderful plan. Now make love to me."

Without another word, he obeyed her.

It was February when the butler told Phillip he had a telegram.

"Here you are, sir," the man added as he handed it to Phillip.

"Thank you." Phillip sat up in the parlor chair and frowned.

Once he set aside the document he’d been reading, he turned his attention to the contents, his shock growing with each word.

"Curse it!"

He bolted from his seat and hurried out of the parlor.

Glancing up the staircase, he yelled, "Teresa!"

Before waiting for her to call out to him, he grabbed his coat and hat from the closet. He couldn’t believe it. This was horrible!

As he grabbed his shoes, a pregnant Teresa came waddling down the stairs, her hand on her back.

"What is it?"

Sitting on the bench by the front door, he motioned for the butler, who stood nearby, to leave them alone. After the butler strode down the hall, he spoke in a low voice, "Lucy’s husband turned out to be a bigamist."

She gasped and brought her hand to her throat. "No."

"He’s been arrested, but no one knows where Lucy is and he’s not talking." He finished tying his shoes and stood up. "He’s in Waterloo. My family is headed there to find out where Lucy is. I’m going too."

"So they have no idea where Lucy is?"

He shook his head. "I’ll get him to talk if it’s the last thing I do."

"Do you want me to come along? Will you pack first?"

Blinking, he realized packing would be a good idea. "Yes, I should bring a change of clothing." He glanced at her large belly. "I don’t want you traveling in your condition. It’s best if you and the child are safe."

She nodded. "Alright. I’ll gather your things."

While she climbed the steps, he went to the kitchen where the cook and maid prepared the evening meal. The butler looked expectantly at Phillip, ready to do whatever he wanted.

"I must leave at once," Phillip said, buttoning his coat. "I have a family emergency to tend to. Teresa will stay here."

"Do you need me to call for a carriage, sir?" the butler asked.

"Yes, thank you. I expect to be gone for about a week."

Without waiting for anyone else to respond, he returned to the parlor and placed his document where it belonged in his desk before he locked it. Then he wrote his client a note explaining the sudden emergency and returned to the entryway. When he saw the butler coming back into the house, he gave him the note. "Make sure Henry Stewart gets this. The trial will be delayed."

"I will do that, sir."

Phillip turned when he heard his wife coming down the stairs with his leather traveling bag. "Thank you, honey."

"I hope you find your sister." She gave him the bag and kissed him. "Take care of yourself."

He smiled and patted the small of her back. "I’ll be back in a week," he promised before he left.

***

Phillip checked into a hotel in Waterloo before he went to theroom the clerk told him his family was staying in. He knocked on the door.

His mother opened the door and hugged him. "Thank goodness you’re here, Phillip. Your pa is at the jailhouse trying to see if Mark will tell him where Lucy is."

Phillip pulled away from her. "Mark?"

"We just found out Adam Nilles’ real name is Mark Wilson. His wife — the first one he married —

found out what he’s been up to when he was supposed to be selling things door to door in different towns. She came over to identify him. Oh, Phillip, it’s just awful." She dabbed her puffy eyes and red nose with a handkerchief. "He makes it a point to marry women who come with a dowry and then finds a place to drop them off."

Phillip looked past his mother to Meredith who sat by the small window, seeming content to stare out of it. Gritting his teeth at Meredith’s lack of concern, he focused on his mother. "How many women have gone through this and have any been found?"

His mother shook her head. "He’s not saying, but the sheriff’s identified two other women. He’s asking the other lawmen across the country if they’ve had women dropped off by a man who meets his description. You know, I thought something was wrong when Lucy didn’t write. I just knew it!"

Tears sprang to her eyes, and Phillip held her. "I hope Lucy’s alright."

The thought that his sister was stranded in a strange town made him shudder. How could a woman be expected to provide for herself in such a situation? His gaze returned to Meredith who finally glanced his way. She didn’t look the least bit concerned over the events. In fact, from the way she sighed and returned her attention to looking outside the window, she seemed bored by the whole thing. He closed his eyes and reminded himself that now was not the time to deal with her. Right now, he needed to figure out what he could do to find Lucy.

He opened his eyes. "I’d like to go to the jailhouse and talk to Ad… Mark."

"I’ll go too," Meredith said as she stood and reached for the coat draped across the back of the chair.

"I will too," his mother added. "One can only handle so much waiting. Your pa insisted we wait for you, you know."

He picked up his mother’s coat and helped her into it. "I just got here. I left as soon as I got Pa’s telegram."

Meredith brushed past him and headed down the narrow corridor. Phillip and their mother followed close behind. The walk to the jailhouse proved a frustrating one since the icy roads didn’t slow Meredith down while making it impossible for him to keep up with her.

"Why did Meredith come?" he asked his mother in a voice low enough so that Meredith wouldn’t overhear.

Her mother sniffed and dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief.

"Oh, she was most distressed when she learned what happened, as we all were."

Somehow, he doubted that. He suspected an ulterior motive at work, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

As soon as they stepped inside the building, Meredith ran over to the potbelly stove and warmed her hands. His mother, not seeming to notice how ‘distraught’ her daughter was, ran over to the sheriff who was shuffling through some papers on his desk.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff," his mother began. "I’m Mrs. Barnes. I believe my husband is here."

"Oh yes." The middle-aged man stood up and waved her forward. "He’s trying to talk to Mark Wilson."

"Has he had any luck?" Phillip asked, surprised Meredith even bothered to follow them as they went down the hall to where a row of cells were.

"Not that I can tell." The sheriff motioned to the last cell along the row. "There you go."

Ignoring the other prisoners, Phillip stepped up to the cell where Mark sat, arms crossed, and glaring at his father. Phillip gripped the bars, wishing he could get in there. He bet he could make Mark talk if Mark had the right incentive.

His father sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I’m glad you came, son."

Phillip nodded but didn’t take his gaze off of Mark. "Where’s Lucy?"

With a smirk, Mark shrugged. "I can’t seem to recall which one she is. Why don’t you describe her? It might jog my memory."

Phillip shook the bars and turned to the sheriff. "Let me in there!"

The sheriff shook his head. "I can’t do that, but his legal wife is going to testify before the judge. He’ll be behind bars for a long time. No need to worry about that." With a sigh, he glanced at Mark. "Too bad you didn’t think of those three children of yours when you were out cattin’ around."