The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (15 page)

T
he ride
in the buggy from Sam’s house to Archer Ranch seemed the longest of her entire life and felt like a funeral procession. She mercifully hadn’t seen Mrs. Allen as she passed through—she knew she would have burst into tears at the sight of her, and that’s the last thing she wanted to happen.

Her father had opened the door, at first happy to see Sam and Meg. His, “What a nice surprise,” had faded quickly, though, as Meg rushed past him, into her old bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She had no idea what Sam and her father had talked about, nor did she want to know.

As she unpinned her hair, she could no longer hold back the tears. It had been several hours since Sam had made his wishes known, and it had taken everything in her power to hold her emotions in check but now, in her old bedroom, the sense of comfort and the photograph of her mother on her bedside table made it impossible to keep it in.

Time stopped as she sobbed, and she didn’t know how long she’d cried—it had felt like a year—and she was down to sniffles now with a stuffy nose and a headache, her eyes swollen and red, when she heard a faint knock on the door.

“Who is it?” She blew her nose in her handkerchief as she sat up on the side of the bed, her hair tumbling down around her.

“Nutmeg?” Her father opened the door and peered in, poking his head in very little as he frowned. “May I come in?”

Meg’s lip trembled as she nodded, her hands wringing the wet handkerchief.

Her father sat down beside her on the bed and slowly wrapped his arm around his daughter, sighing as her head fell onto his shoulder.

“Oh, Papa,” she wailed. “He doesn’t want me.” Her face fell into her hands and the tears came once more.

“There, there, Nutmeg,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I don’t think he knew quite what else to do. He’s a man of honor, and as he explained to me, he felt this was the best way to honor you, to not ruin your life.”

“Ruin my life? He could only ruin my life by sending me away. I love him, and I told him so. He
still
didn’t want me. Now, he
is
ruining my life. I’ll never be happy again.”

“That doesn’t quite make any sense to me, darling,” he said, laughing until Meg turned her swollen eyes to him when he stopped abruptly.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been young and in love, and it becomes more of a mystery to me by the moment.”

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Well, if someone were to ask me, I’d say that he loves you, too. No one could miss his reaction when he heard you sing. But if he says you need to be home, and he doesn’t want to dishonor you, I don’t know what to do but welcome you with open arms. I know it’s not where you want to be, Meg, but you know we love you and your sisters, while not happy that your heart is broken, will be glad to see you, as well.”

Meg fell back onto the bed, her arm covering her eyes. “I don’t think I can ever leave this room, Papa. Thank you for having me home. I’m sorry for the trouble. I sincerely thought I was doing the right thing.”

Her father patted her hand and stood, his eyes landing on the picture of his wife. He picked up the frame and ran his hand over his wife’s photo, his eyes softening.

Meg uncovered her eyes at his silence, her heart tugging as she saw him with her mother’s photo. She sat up, resting her hand on his arm.

Her father seemed startled, lost in his memories, but he patted Meg’s hand and set the photograph down.

“Meg, I don’t quite know what to say to make anything better. I do, however, know that no one dies from a broken heart. I am living proof.”

Meg wiped a tear away with her mother’s handkerchief and her father smiled. “I see that your mother is here with you as well—at least her handkerchief is. I’m glad of that.”

Meg laughed despite herself and stood, resting her head on her father’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, appreciating what comfort she could get.

Mr. Archer gave Meg one more pat on the cheek. “Meg, you are a fine, fine woman—and yes, I mean woman. You’re not a little girl anymore, especially not after this. I respect your decision to have done it, and I will support you in every way I can now that it’s over.”

Over? The word alone made her want to throw herself back on her bed and cry. But what good would that do. It was done. Over. Even her father had said so.

T
he hole
in Meg’s heart didn’t keep her from resuming her duties on the ranch, although it
had
kept her from sleep for the past two nights. She’d done her best not to think about anything—particularly Sam Allen—and returning to milking cows and gathering eggs had helped. She hadn’t, however, been able to face taking them in to the mercantile. She wasn’t sure
when
she’d be ready to face any of their—her—friends.

She’d finished milking another cow and stood, pushing some stray hair into the ribbon she wore to keep it back and out of her eyes when she was working. She moved her stool over to the next cow, grabbed an empty pail and sat down, ready to start milking another one.

Before she could begin, Pepper ran in the barn door, skidding to a stop amidst a pile of hay. She bent, her hands on her knees while she tried to catch her breath.

“Pepper, what is it? Papa?” Meg stood and wiped her hands on her apron.

Her sister shook her head slowly and stood.

“No, not Papa. There’s someone here to see you, though.”

Meg peered out the barn door toward the house and her stomach hit the ground as she recognized Sam’s buggy tied up in front of the ranch house.

She took several steps backward, her hands held up toward Pepper as she shook her head. “No, Pepper. I don’t want to see him. I can’t.”

Pepper glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “I don’t think—”

“I’m not surprised you don’t want to see him, Meg, but may I come in for a moment?”

Meg’s hand flew to her chest as Mrs. Allen walked in the door and looked around the barn, her smile broad.

“So this is what a cow looks like.” She rested her hand on Pepper’s shoulder and winked at her. Pepper ran out of the barn like a shot as she looked back at Meg and smiled.

Meg sighed and rubbed her eyes, willing them to stay dry. “Hello, Mrs. Allen,” was all she could get out for fear that they wouldn’t.

“Hello, my dear. It’s so very nice to see you.” She closed the distance between them and pulled Meg into a hug.

Meg felt herself melt against the kind woman’s shoulder, and the tears did not obey her request, flowing down her cheek unbidden.

Mrs. Allen took Meg by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Look at you. You don’t look much better than your husband.”

Meg’s hand rose to her hair as her heart stopped for a moment, then beat faster than she could remember it ever having done before.

“What do you mean? What’s the matter? Is Sam ill?”

Mrs. Allen laughed. “Ill? Well, I suppose you could say that. He’s not slept since you left, I don’t believe, nor eaten, either. No matter what I try to do, he hasn’t spoken until just very recently.”

“Oh.” Meg dropped her head and tugged at the pockets of her apron.

“And you look as if it’s been the same for you, my dear. Sam is up at the house, on the patio, and would like to speak with you.”

“Mrs. Allen, I—”

“For me, Meg? Please? Just hear him out.”

Meg took in a deep breath as she met Mrs. Allen’s eyes—the same blue as her husband’s. They were kind, and soft, and her heart pinched at the request.

She couldn’t imagine what Sam had to say—he’d been very clear prior—but she decided to humor Mrs. Allen. After all, they’d put her through quite a bit and it was the least she could do.

Mrs. Allen held out her arm to Meg, and she wove hers through it as they walked up to the main house.

“You know, my dear, things aren’t always as they seem. I appreciate you giving my son an audience when he clearly doesn’t deserve it, after all this folly.”

“I do apologize for all of it, Mrs. Allen. We really did think we were doing the right thing.”

Mrs. Allen patted her hand as it rested on her arm. “I know, my dear, and it ultimately was a very kind and generous thing for you both to do, albeit a bit misguided.”

Meg opened the front door, holding it open for Mrs. Allen. As she turned and looked onto the patio, her stomach clenched as she saw Sam pacing. His hat in his hand, he turned it round and round and appeared to be speaking to himself, but as she walked closer, she saw that her father sat off to the side as he listened quietly to Sam.

“Why don’t you go on, dear. Your father offered to show me the stables, so we’ll be off while you two talk. Can you believe I’ve never been in stables before, either? Hazards of growing up in a city,” Mrs. Allen said as she winked at Meg.

She poked her head out the patio door. “Mr. Archer, I’m ready for that stable tour now.”

Her father jumped at the sound and nodded to Mrs. Allen. “Certainly. Now is a good time.” He turned to Sam and extended his hand, shaking it strongly. Sam nodded to her father and said, “Thank you, sir.”

Her father smiled and turned to Meg. “My pleasure, Sam. My pleasure,” he said, and held his arm out for Mrs. Allen, and they were off.

Sam looked as if he might drop his hat when Meg walked through the patio door. He turned right and left, looking for somewhere to put it, settling on the chair behind him.

“Thank you for seeing me, Meg. I had no right to expect you to. Would you sit down with me for a moment?” He gestured to one of the chairs on the patio and took the one right across from her as she sat.

“I don’t see why you did, Sam. I don’t see how there is much to talk about.” Her heart tugged at the dark circles under his eyes. He
did
look as if he hadn’t slept and she was pretty confident she looked the same.

“I haven’t said much since you left—”

“Since you made me leave,” Meg interrupted, heat rising in her cheeks at the memory.

Sam held up his hands. “Fair enough. Since I made you leave. But it’s been brought to my attention that maybe that wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“Oh?” Meg raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. And I can finally see what a fool I’ve been. I felt so badly that I’d gotten you into such a ridiculous mess that I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”

“Oh?” Meg’s heart leapt as she had an inkling where this might be going. She could almost take pity on him, his eyes were so dark and sad, but she thought she may as well get back at him a little.

“Please, help me here, Meg.”

“Help you what?”

Sam stood and turned toward the garden and paced several times, his brows furrowed.

Meg sat straight, her hands in her lap as she did her best to stifle a smile.

He stopped with his hands on his hips, his head hung. He cleared his throat and turned to her. “All right. I deserve this, but I’m just going to say it. Just hear me out.”

Meg remained silent, one eyebrow cocked and her head turned to the side.

“You can be aggravating, you know that, woman?”

Meg smiled demurely and said, “Can I?”

Sam let out a big sigh as he saw her smile, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a look of relief like this on anyone before. He laughed and sat back down, his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward Meg.

“All right. I see how it is. I’ll just get it out.” He rubbed his chin then took Meg’s hand. “Do you remember when you told me that you’d wished I had courted you, before the mail order shenanigans?”

“I will never forget,” she said, maintaining her reserve when all she wanted to do was hug him.

“And you believed I hadn’t noticed you? Meg, that’s not the case at all. I did notice you. In fact, I even sounded your brother out about it, and he said that your father would have my hide. That he was nowhere near ready. But I had no idea that you’d felt that way, too.”

Meg’s heart raced as Sam stood and held out his hand for her. She knew she’d been right. That there had been a spark, somewhere deep down.

She thought her heart would burst as he pulled her toward him, his hand under her chin. She closed her eyes, hoping to feel his lips on hers, something she’d been wanting for a long time.

Meg opened her eyes as not only did she not feel Sam’s lips on hers, but he pulled his hand away.

“Meg, will you sit down for a moment?”

She sat slowly, wondering how he planned to torture her next. Her hand flew to her chest as he bent down before her on one knee and took a velvet box from his pocket.

“Meg Allen—er, Archer—um, Allen, this is a ring that belonged to my grandmother. My mother gave it to me this morning, specifically for you when she pointed out that I was behaving like an idiot, and letting the woman I love get away.”

“Oh, Sam—”

He held up a finger. “Please, let me finish. I’m hoping to be able to sleep and eat again soon, but I have to know. Meg, I’ve asked your father for your hand in marriage, and I’d be the happiest man on Earth if you’d do me the honor of—well, staying my wife.”

Tears pricked her eyes at the hopeful smile he wore, and she thought she might not be able to get the words out as she’d almost lost her breath.

“Oh, Sam, I’d be honored to—remain your wife.” She laughed and stood, pulling him to his feet with her as he placed the ring on her finger.

She knew she would have seen it sparkle if she hadn’t closed her eyes, the sensation of the ring on her finger and her hand in his was more than she could bear. She felt his hand on her chin as he pulled it up, and she finally got what she’d been wanting for so long—his soft, warm lips on hers.

M
eg could hardly believe
that she was heading to the Occidental to have dinner with her husband—her
real
husband—and her mother-in-law. If someone had told her when she wrote the letter to Sam asking to be his mail order bride that things would have turned out like this, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Meg shook her head in amazement as she looked at the lovely lady beside her—lovely both inside and out. Although no one could ever replace her beloved mother, she felt quite lucky that she’d grown to love someone as special as Mrs. Allen—Mother Allen as she now called her.

Tonight, Mother Allen had asked if she could take them to the Occidental to have a real celebration. She’d mentioned more than once that she hadn’t been able to be at the wedding and would like to celebrate, somehow, so she’d chosen this night.

Sam looked quite dapper in his suit and tie, his blue eyes shining, and Meg had had a new dress made from the fabric that Mrs. Allen admitted she had no idea what to do with. Mrs. Allen had had one made, too, and they headed toward the Occidental, all wearing their best.

“Hey, Sam, nice to see you and your wife,” a man called out from the porch as he smiled and ducked into the restaurant.

“Who was that?” Meg asked.

“One of my better customers,” Sam said. “He might have thought I was working tonight.”

Mrs. Allen stepped down from the buggy almost as soon as it stopped, not waiting for a hand down. She hurried up the steps and reached for the door, saying, “I’ll get us a table and meet you inside.”

Sam covered Meg’s hand with his as she rested it on his arm.

“Did I mention you look beautiful tonight, Meg? Well, every night.”

She sighed as he kissed her cheek, then came around to help her down. She had never guessed she’d be this happy.

Sam opened the door for her, and she stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the light from the bright sun outside. She spotted Mother Allen waving at her from near the small dining room where she and Sam had been married, and she took Sam’s hand, pulling him in that direction as he waved and nodded to many people who greeted him as he passed by.

As Meg reached the doorway to the dining room, she saw Sadie. She waved and stepped inside, pulling Sam along behind her.

“Surprise!” came from all directions and she turned around to Sam, who looked as shocked as she felt.

She turned back around and Mother Allen came over and took her hand. “You two deserve a proper wedding reception. A real one. More suited for couples in love.”

Meg smiled as she leaned forward and kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek. She held her gaze with this kind woman for a moment, the blue eyes reminding her very much of her kind husband’s eyes, and said, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Nonsense, my dear. Nothing to thank me for. I know love when I see it.” She turned and greeted the rest of the guests, and Meg clasped her hands in front of her at the sight of her sisters, her brother, her sister-in-law, Sadie and Suzanne and their families. Once again, her heart swelled at just the thought of how fortunate she’d been.

She blushed as Sam came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. He bent down, whispering, “This is a lovely surprise. Congratulations, Mrs. Allen.”

“Congratulations to you as well, Mr. Allen,” Meg said as she squeezed his hands and moved to give hugs to all of their guests.

Once they’d had an opportunity to greet everyone in the dining room, Mrs. Allen lifted a glass of water and a fork, tapping the glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me, all. Firstly, thank you for coming to what is a joyous occasion for me and my new family.” She smiled and nodded at Meg. “And for joining us as they start their new lives together. I’ve had the assistance of the charming proprietors of the Occidental, Tripp and Sadie, and with their permission, I’d like to present my son and his bride with their wedding gift.”

She sighed deeply and smiled at Meg and Sam, her eyes softening as she walked to the side of the room and removed a white sheet with a flourish, revealing a beautiful piano.

As Meg gasped and Sam squeezed her hand, Mrs. Allen said, “It’s the perfect gift, I believe, for two people who make such beautiful music together. And if they are willing, I’d like to ask them to provide us with a song.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, nodding at Meg and Sam. Sam glanced at Tripp and received a nod of permission.

“Meg? Are you willing?”

Meg’s heart soared as she nodded and Sam led her to the piano. She glanced around at her family, her friends and her husband, admiring the way Sam had taken his playing back up with a passion, remembering the nights they’d played and sung together since she’d come home.

She became lost in the music, swaying to the sound of Sam’s playing and was surprised that the song ended almost as soon as it had begun, it seemed to her, as they always did.

She smiled and bowed at the applause of their friends and family, and her eyebrows rose as Sam took her arm and turned her toward the door to the dining room, where every diner and employee was standing, the applause almost deafening.

Her mouth agape, she blinked several times as Tripp came over and clapped Sam on the back. Tripp and Sadie had been dinner guests on their nights off and they’d heard Sam and Meg’s duets several times.

“Wonderful, you two.” He held his arm out toward the dining room proper. “And it was well-received, judging by the standing ovation.”

Sam shook his head as he looked out at the many customers, most familiar to Meg, as well.

“Your mother’s generous gift came with an idea she had, and I think it’s wonderful. Mrs. Allen?”

Mrs. Allen took one of each of their hands. “I must admit, I had a plan in mind with my gift. You can see as well as I can the response people have to the two of you together. It’s not something to hide under a bushel.”

“No, it isn’t,” Tripp said. “And I’d be honored if the two of you would be willing to perform here at the Occidental several nights a week. I believe the patrons would love it, and Sadie and I would, too.”

“Absolutely,” Sadie said with a sigh. “Although I hate to share you. It’s just not fair.” She winked at Meg and squeezed her hand.

Meg turned to Sam and looked up at him. “What do you think, Sam? It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Sam smiled at his mother and turned back to Meg. “Yes, it’s what I’ve always wanted, but better than I could have imagined because I get to do it with you.”