The Bride Price (4 page)

She drew a ragged breath and allowed Nona to
help her change into a nightgown. Nona had also located a robe and,
although it was several inches too short, it was warm, which was
all Sophie cared about at the moment. Sophie got settled in the
large bed and clasped her hands together, uncertain what to do.

“You should sleep and get your strength
back.”

Sophie stared at her plain gold wedding band
and ran her finger over it. “I’m fine, Nona. My husband will find
me.”

“I’ll tell you what. As soon as your husband
arrives, I’ll wake you.” Nona patted her hand.

Sophie took a deep breath. “I suppose I am
rather tired. Please promise me you’ll wake me as soon as he gets
here. I’m sure he’s frantically trying to find me and is worried
sick.”

As soon as Nona left the room, Sophie slid
from the bed.

Wake up, Sophie. You are not in the middle
of the Civil War. You are not in the middle of a real life freakin’
reenactment. This is a dream.

She pinched her leg. “Ow.” Slapping her hand
over her mouth, hoping Nona wouldn’t investigate the noise, she
stood on shaky legs for several seconds. Nothing.

She stepped to the fireplace and reached her
hands toward the amber flames.

Um, yeah, those are hot. What the heck is going on?
I have to find Jamie.

CHAPTER THREE

Sophie paced the room for what seemed like hours. She
investigated every inch of it, not that it helped. The warmth of
the bed beckoned to her, so she finally forced herself to climb
back under the covers. She tried to nap, without success. She sat
up, tossed back her thick mass of curls, and brought her palm to
her chest.

I can breathe without pain.

Raising her head to the ceiling, she took a
deep breath.

How is this even possible?

Sophie eased out of the tall bed and grasped the
post to steady herself. Her weak legs protested the sudden
activity. Pulling the borrowed robe tighter around her, Sophie
moved to the bedroom door. She poked her head out, listening for
sounds, before making her way down the hall. Where was the
bathroom? She tried a few doors but only found other bedrooms.

She hoped she wasn’t going to have to use a
chamber pot. Dream or no dream, the idea was gross. Hearing noise
coming from downstairs, she paused on the landing. The sound of
laughter and clinking glasses wafted through the foyer.

Sophie slunk down the stairs and made her way
toward the dining room, uncertain exactly what she would find, but
following the sound despite her racing heart. As she turned the
corner, she stopped, and a fork dropped with a loud clutter.

Sophie’s mouth came open as Richard stood,
nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He made a beeline
for her. “Mrs. Ford, ma’am, you shouldn’t be down here without any
clothes on.”

“Excuse me?”

Richard grabbed her arm and pulled her into
the foyer.

Sophie’s skin crawled as she dragged her arm
from his hold. “Let go of me.”

“Ma’am, people shouldn’t see you like this,
it’s not decent.”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean
by ‘not decent’?”

“You’re almost naked.”

Sophie glanced down to make sure another
button hadn’t popped open. “I’m fully covered!”

“You’re not fully covered. Your ankles are
showing, among other things,” Richard whispered.

“Ooh, my ankles. Scandalous,” she snipped
sarcastically.

Feeling a gentle squeeze on her elbow, Sophie
turned her head to find Nona, her expression full of motherly
concern. “Sophie, dear, what are you doing down here?”

Michael stood behind Nona and moved to block
Sophie’s view of the dining room.

“Where’s Jamie?”

Nona shot a frantic look toward Michael.

“Mrs. Ford. Turn around and go back to your
room.” Richard pointed to the stairs.

“Where is my husband?”

“Sophie, dear, he isn’t here.” Nona wrapped
an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you back upstairs.”

Sophie shook her head. “I want my
husband.”

“We can speak privately upstairs,” Richard
replied.

Sophie crossed her arms and glared at
Richard. “I don’t want to speak privately upstairs.”

This must be a nightmare. Any minute, I’ll
be back in the Jamie’s arms, back in our bed.

Nona tried to lead her to the stairs but
Sophie refused to budge. Without warning, Richard picked her up,
and Sophie let out a squeal. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

“Ma’am, we need to get you back into bed.
You’re making a scene and upsetting Nona. We’ll explain everything
once you’re settled.” Richard moved toward the stairs.

“Mr. Madden, put me down, I can walk by
myself.” Sophie pushed at his chest. “Jamie is
not
going to
be happy with you man-handling me.” He didn’t comply, so she tried
a different tack. “Mr. Madden, please, put me down. Seriously, this
is ridiculous.”

Reaching the bedroom door, Richard pushed it
open with his shoulder. He lowered Sophie onto the massive bed, and
the top of her robe popped open. Catching Richard’s leer, she
grabbed for the quilt to cover herself. As Nona and Michael rushed
into the room, Sophie turned a crimson face toward them. “Where is
Jamie?”

Nona stood in front of her and settled a hand
on Sophie’s shoulder. “Sophie, Richard has spent most of the day
looking for him. There simply isn’t any record of a James William
Ford anywhere in the Union Army.”

“I told you. He
isn’t
a soldier. Where
else did you look? Did you check the hospitals? Maybe he’s been
mugged. Did you check the airport? Maybe he went looking for me
there.”

“Airport? What’s an airport?” Richard
asked.

“What do you mean, what’s an airport? This
dream is really getting lame.”

“Lame, dear? Do you have a horse that went
lame? Is that how you ended up at the stables? Were you thrown?”
Nona asked.

These people are out of their minds. Wake up
Sophie, WAKE UP.

Taking a deep breath, Sophie fisted her hands
in her lap. “Look, something’s not right here. No, I did not get
thrown from a horse. I’m Sophie Jane Wellington Ford, married to
James William Ford.” Her voice rose in volume. “I’m twenty-six
years old. We’ve been married for five years. I’m from Portland,
Oregon, and this is
not
funny. I want to wake up from this
nightmare. Now!”

Nona wrung her hands and turned to her
husband. “Michael, please, there must be something you can do for
her.”

“I’ll return shortly.”

Sophie let Nona wrap her arms around her.
“Nona, please, I need Jamie. He can’t have just disappeared.
I
can’t have just disappeared! I don’t understand. I’m
supposed to be dead. I should be dead.”

“Is it possible your husband died in the war
and you’re forgetting? Maybe you think it should have been
you?”

“No, it is
not
possible, because he is
not
a soldier! I have not lost my memory.” Sophie swallowed.
“And I am not crazy.” Her eyes moved skyward in desperation. “Oh,
God, please help me, please, please help me.”

Michael returned with his medical bag in hand
and moved to her side. “Mrs. Ford, I have something for you that
will calm you. I would like you to drink all of this for me,
please.”

“What is it?” Sophie asked suspiciously.

“Laudanum.”

With a frantic shake of her head, Sophie
pushed the covers away and threw her legs over the side of the bed.
“Are you out of your ever-blessed mind? No way am I taking
laudanum. You can just forget it. I don’t want to be drugged.”

“Mrs. Ford, you need to calm down. You’ll
give yourself an apoplexy,” Michael warned.

“Who are you people? I need to get out of
here. You’re all crazy. Trying to drug innocent people,
man-handling them, and throwing them onto beds.” She muttered the
last words as she glared in Richard’s direction.

Richard pushed away from the wall, and
stalked toward her. “Mrs. Ford, you need to get back into bed. The
Wades are good people. They are simply trying to help. I would
rather not have to hold you down while the doctor forces the
medicine down your throat.”

Her body leaned away from his threat of its
own accord and, cursing her fear, she ground out, “Niiiice—now
you’re using your brute strength to hold me against my will? What
are you even doing in my bedroom? Isn’t that illegal or something?
Don’t think I’ll ever forget about this. When Jamie gets here,
you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do! He’s gonna kick
your ass.”

“Mrs. Ford, I don’t have a donkey, but if I
did, I don’t know why your husband would want to kick it. Perhaps
you hit your head a little harder than we originally thought.”

“You’re the donkey!”

Oh, good one, Sophie. That told him.

“Get back into bed, sit still, and take the
medicine Dr. Wade is offering—or I will make you,” Richard
threatened.

As the tension in the room thickened, Sophie
stopped fighting. After downing the bitter laudanum, she drank the
water Richard offered, all the while imagining him in a floral
dress, lying helplessly as she tied him to railroad tracks and
twirled her waxed moustache. The visual made her feel a
little
better.

Nona took Sophie’s glass and set it by her
bedside. “There’s a sweet dear. We’ll get you back to sleep and
things will look better in the morning. You’ll see.”

Sophie groaned at the positive pronouncement
over the worst predicament she’d ever been in. As the laudanum took
effect, her limbs grew heavy and sluggish and her eyelids drooped.
She smacked her dry mouth a few times as she watched the doctor and
Richard make their way from the room. Sophie barely noticed Nona
linger at the bedside for a few minutes before tiptoeing out into
the hall.

Sophie heard voices just outside the door but
they trailed as the group moved away. She tried to roll onto her
side, without much luck. Her body felt like a lead weight.

Why won’t my butt follow my shoulders?

Taking a bigger swing with her leg, she
finally ended on her side but realized she wasn’t comfortable there
either. She rolled onto her back before trying to sit up and climb
out of the bed. Inching her body toward the edge of the mattress,
she reached her hand out to steady herself on the side table but
only managed to knock the glass onto the floor with a loud crash.
Before the sound even registered in her cloudy mind, the door
opened with a bang. Gasping in fright, she turned toward the
light.

“Sophie, dear? What happened?” Nona rushed to
her side.

Just before her feet hit the floor, Sophie’s
dizziness overwhelmed her. A quiet groan escaped her as she swayed
toward Nona.

Nona laid her hand on her shoulder. “There is
broken glass at your feet. You need to be careful.” Nona gave a
gentle smile. “Why are you trying to get out of bed? I was certain
you were asleep when I left you.”

“I have to—that is, well, I need to—” Sophie
tried to put aside her humiliation and think through the confusion
for the right words.

“I know what you need.” Nona pulled out a
porcelain bowl from under the bed.

Ugh, chamber pot.

Nona helped to steady Sophie as the laudanum
coursed through her system. “I apologize about the primitive
chamber pot.” Nona patted her back. “I’ll have a proper commode
moved in here in the morning. I’ll send Betty in to pick the glass
up, once you’re asleep.”

Commode. Morning. Yes.

Sophie twirled the words through her cloudy
mind. “Thank you.”

Nona helped her back into bed before quietly
leaving the room. Sophie tried desperately to fight her
drug-induced lethargy, but she was unsuccessful.

* * *

Sophie forced her eyes open and grabbed her
pounding head. She focused her gaze on the ceiling, and several
minutes passed before she realized she was still in the blue room.
As she lowered her hands to her sides, her fingers touched the soft
fabric of what she assumed was a homemade quilt; the ridges of the
stitching rising like tiny hills under her fingertips.

Sitting up carefully to get a better sense of
her surroundings, she eased out of the tall bed, made her way over
to the window, and pulled the floor-to-ceiling curtain aside. The
sun hid behind a mass of dark clouds. However, morning beckoned,
and she noticed fresh snow on the ground. Sophie couldn’t help but
smile. She’d always loved the snow.

Leaning her forehead against the windowpane,
she sighed. Her breath left an oval-shaped fog ring on the glass,
and she dragged a finger through it as she tried to wrap her mind
around what had happened.

What am I going to do? Am I in a coma and
this is an hallucination? Am I dead and in heaven? Maybe it’s hell
and I am destined to be without Jamie forever.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted her
thoughts. She grimaced. “Come in.”

“Good morning, dear.”

Squeezing her eyes shut for a last, brief
second of solitude, Sophie pushed herself away from the window and
turned. “Hi, Nona.”

“How did you sleep, dear? I didn’t want to
wake you too early, so I told the staff not to disturb you.”

“Thank you.”

Nona laid mounds of fabric on the bed. “Are
you hungry? I can have Betty bring you a tray.”

“No, thank you, Nona. I’m not really hungry
right now.” Sophie turned to look out the window again.

“Dear, you really should eat. You need to get
your strength up. My sister, Elizabeth, brought a few dresses and
personal things over this morning for you.”

Sophie let Nona fuss over her, pleasantly
surprised that Nona’s sister had provided several gowns that fit
her. Uncertain how long it would take her to get used to wearing a
corset for extended periods of time—she had a difficult time
wearing them with her reenactment costumes—she tried to remember
how to breathe without hyperventilating.