The Mail Order Bride's Deception (3 page)

She nodded
then turned to the house.

He couldn’t help but notice the way she gently swung her hips from side to side as she walked.  She had a lovely figure.  And to boot, she was a beauty.  He didn’t know what he did to get so lucky, but he wouldn’t question it.  He’d just be glad that she happened to stumble upon his ad.  There were some things he learned long ago not to question and fate was one of them.  Whistling, he followed her into the house.

Chapter Three

Sadie stepped into the cabin and took a good look at the bare furnishings.  A dining table with a couple chairs next to a worktable and cookstove, and a couple rocking chairs.  Gilbert stirred in her arms but didn’t wake up.  Rubbing his back, she proceeded to one of the other two rooms.

The first was Gilbert’s room since it had a crib and a small table with a wash basin and some cloth diapers with a pail nearby.  A small box stove was against the wall.  In the other room, she saw a bed, a dresser, a trunk, and a wash basin on a small nightstand.  A box stove wasn’t too far from the foot of the bed.  She figured this far up north, it wasn’t a bad idea to have as much heat in the rooms as possible.

Turning from what was going to be her bedroom, she looked up and saw the small loft that Al had mentioned.  A ladder went up to it.  She took a few steps back and tried to figure out what was up there, but it was too dark to tell.

Al came into the room and set the crate on the worktable.  “I know this place needs a woman’s touch.  You can do whatever you want to it.”

Her first thought was to say she couldn’t come right in and change his home.  In some ways, the bareness of it was refreshing after the gaudy red and purple furnishings and heavy drapes that had covered the brothel.  But then she figured Hazel had come from excessive furnishings in her home and would jump at the chance to make the place more feminine.  She, however, didn’t have to be too feminine.

Perhaps if she chose softer colors like yellow or blue for decorating, Al wouldn’t suspect she wasn’t Hazel.  She wondered if Hazel had shared some of her favorite colors with him.  Probably not.  Of all the things she’d mention to a man she was going to meet, she wouldn’t think of colors.

Before Al left to get another crate, she asked, “What kind of things do you want me to do to your cabin?”

He paused on his way to the door and looked over at her and smiled.  “I’ll leave that up to you.  I figure you know more about what a woman wants than I do.
  And besides, this is now your cabin, too.”

Sensing the slight teasing tone in his voice, she chuckled.  “I’m not much into flashy or fancy things.  I like to keep things simple.”

“Simple works for me.”

Relaxing, she returned his smile.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

After he left the cabin, she went over to the shelf and hooks lining the wall and took note of the meager pots, pans and dishes.  To the side were some bottles for Gilbert.

She loved how simple the entire cabin was.  It spoke of an honest man who worked hard to provide for his son.  And better yet, it didn’t smell of perfume, alcohol, or sex.

But it did strike her as a bit odd that there was no indication a woman had ever lived here.  She expected something feminine to linger around the place.  A woman had to have given birth to Gilbert, after all.  But then if they hadn’t been married, she might not have lived here.

Gilbert stirred again in her arms and this time she became aware of a foul odor coming from his diaper.  She bit her lower lip.  Holding the child was one thing.  Changing him was a completely different matter.  She had absolutely no experience with babies.  She had done good to feed him.

Al came in with the second crate, and she forced out, “How do you change a diaper?”

He set the crate on the table.  “I’ll show you.”

Relieved he’d so easily accepted the task, she smiled her thanks as he took Gilbert from her.  She followed him to Gilbert’s bedroom and watched as he set him on the small table.

“It’s easier on a person’s back if he’s on the table instead of the floor, but you can change him on the floor if you wish,” Al said as he retrieved a new cloth diaper.  “I fold these ahead of time so they’re ready when I need them.”

She nodded but concentrated on his movements while he went through the process of removing the boy’s soiled diaper.  She caught the smell of the poop and had to put her hand over her mouth so she didn’t gag.

“Believe it or not, you’ll get used to it,” Al assured her as he wiped the boy’s bottom clean.  “I didn’t think I would when I first did this, but now it doesn’t even bother me.”

She hoped that was true.  In the past, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get past the horrible smell of liquor on men’s breaths when they were on top of her.  Pushing the reminder away, she focused on the process as Al tossed the soiled diaper and cloth towel into the pail full of ammonia then slipped the new diaper under his son.  He slipped the pins in to secure it.

“You make it look easy,” she commented, wondering how she’d ever be able to change a diaper so efficiently.

“It is once you get used to it.  It’ll take a few times doing it then you’ll be a natural.  I’m guessing it’s easier for women to learn this kind of thing than it is for men.  Women have a motherly instinct, after all.”

Though she nodded her agreement, she wondered if that was true.  Yes, she was a woman, but taking care of a baby wasn’t something that seemed to come naturally to her.  She’d been pregnant twice, but Madame’s male friend beat her until she miscarried both times.  It was the way all the prostitutes were treated at the brothel, and until now
, it didn’t occur to Sadie that she could have had a baby like Gilbert to care for.  Not that a brothel was any place for a baby.  And it wasn’t like she had a choice anyway.  She was Madame’s property and Madame decided what happened to her.

“Hazel?”

A touch on her arm brought her attention back to Al.  Her cheeks grew warm.  She shouldn’t have let her mind drift off to places where it shouldn’t go.  She was safe here.  Safe with Al.  And better yet, she was free.  She never had to live under Madame’s rules again.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked, knowing she missed whatever he’d said but not willing to tell him why.

“I asked if you’d take him out to the other room.  I’m going to clean my hands.” He gestured to the wash basin.

“Oh, of course.”

She gathered Gilbert in her arms and left the small bedroom.  Unsure of what to do, she decided to sit in one of the rocking chairs, thinking Gilbert might like to rest against her as he had before but he insisted on sitting up in her lap.  He reached out for nothing in particular, and the action made her stop trying to rock him.  For a little boy, he sure was strong.  She had to wrap her arms around his waist so he didn’t fall forward.

Al emerged from the bedroom and chuckled.  “Now that he’s had his nap, he’ll want to move around.”

Oh, so that’s what Gilbert wanted.  Sadie didn’t know why she assumed the boy would be content to sit with her all day.  That only showed how much she needed to learn about babies.

“It’s a shame,” she admitted as she placed the boy on the floor.  “I enjoyed holding him.”

“You have nothing to worry about.  He’ll love being held a couple hours after supper.  He enjoys being rocked in that chair before bedtime.”

Her gaze went to the boy who scooted across the floor to the worktable.

“I have one more crate to bring in,” Al told her.  “Then we’ll put the things where you want them, and we’ll work on supper.”

Surprised, she asked, “Is it time for supper already?”

“Well, I usually have supper around six, but I thought you might want to eat early.  You’ve had a long trip, and I figure you must be hungry.”

He was right.  Her stomach was growling.  She cleared her throat.  “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” Especially after all he’d done for her already.  “I can wait until six.”

“Nonsense.  It won’t hurt me to eat early.” He pointed to her hat and the drawstring purse hanging on her arm.  “You can take those things off and make yourself at home.”

With an uneasy laugh, she said, “I forgot I still had them with me.  Where should I put them?”

“Anywhere you want, though I suggest putting them out of Gilbert’s reach.  He might not look like it, but he’s quick and he’ll drool all over your things if you let him.”

He headed back out to the wagon and she glanced at the boy who was studying one of the legs of the worktable.  The boy was so curious about his surroundings.  Smiling, she removed her hat, the sweat causing her bun to be matted down.  It was a relief to have it off.

Gilbert looked over at her as if seeing her for the first time.

Chuckling, she said, “I’m the same person as I was before.  See?” She put the hat back on and he blinked.  Taking it off, she decided to put it on the coat tree.  “I suppose I do look quite a bit different without it.  But you’ll get used to it.  I promise.”

The boy smiled and she couldn’t help but lose her heart to him.  He was such a happy child.  She supposed all babies were happy.  But what surprised her was how a simple action could make her feel better.

She removed her gloves and went to what would now be her and Al’s bedroom.  She tried not to think about the bed or what it meant.  After all the time she’d spent in bed with a man, she hadn’t expected to be so nervous about what would be happening that night.  But he wasn’t paying her for a service.  He wouldn’t be running off as soon as he was done.  She’d wake up tomorrow and he’d be next to her.  From now on, she’d only share a bed with him.

Forcing her gaze off the bed, she went to the dresser and opened the drawers until she found three that were empty.  She slipped her gloves in the top one.  This would be a good place for small items.  The other two would be for her clothes.  There wasn’t much space, but it was enough to suit her.  In fact, she had more space now than she did at the brothel.  She’d definitely improved her station in life by marrying Al.

Hazel, of course, would have been worse off, considering the wealth she’d left behind.  Sadie examined her hands.  While she didn’t have any calluses on them, the nails were chipped and the skin dry from the times she’d washed them.  She didn’t have any lotion, but she did pick up
beeswax, rose water and olive oil while at the mercantile.  She knew how to mix the ingredients to heal her skin.  She would have to make some lotion tomorrow.

As it was, the day was getting late and she was exhausted.  What she wanted more than anything was to fall asleep and stay that way until morning, but she would tend to her wifely obligation first.  Maybe Al would be satisfied with doing it one time.  If that was the case, then she could get a good night’s sleep.  If he wasn’t in the habit of visiting the brothel she’d seen as she entered town, then it wouldn’t take him long to finish.  She always preferred the customers who didn’t frequent such establishments just because she knew they tended to be quicker and gentler.  Madame might have loved the regulars since they brought in steady payments, but Sadie hated them.  They had absolutely no respect for anyone.

She slammed the drawer shut.

“Are you alright?” Al called out from the other room.

“I’m fine,” she replied before he came into the room to check on her.  “I slipped.”

She waited for the sound of footsteps but he only called out, “Alright.  I’m going to put the wagon and horses in the barn.”

When she heard the door close, she released her breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.  Getting out of Nebraska was the best thing she ever did.

Once her nerves were settled, she went to the wash basin and lathered up the soap then washed her hands.  She had a tendency to scrub them more than necessary, but it had become a habit over the years.  Scrubbing her skin was the only way she didn’t still feel grimy and disgusting after being with those men.

When she was done, she dried her hands on the towel and wondered if the past would always haunt her.  She didn’t know why she thought once she came to this small town that she wouldn’t give a single thought to how her life had been.  If anything, the stark contrast only made her more aware of where she came from.

Maybe she was a fool.  Just what made her think she could successfully pull off this ruse?  Sooner or later all things came to light and Al would find out the truth…wouldn’t he?

No.  There was no reason he had to know.  Ever.  She was miles and miles from Omaha.  No one would find her.  She was safe here.  She could make a new start.  She could be someone else.  She’d be Mrs. Al Grover.  No matter what it took, she’d do it.  And if the memories of her past always haunted her, then so be it.

***

After Al finished tending to the animals, he returned to the house.  The day had been a long one and he bet Hazel was hungry enough to eat anything he could make.  If he didn’t think it’d overwhelm her, he would have taken her to Aunt Betty’s for a good meal, but she needed time to adjust to her new life.  The least he could do was let her rest.

He smiled at her as he went over to the worktable which still had the boxes on them.

She stood up from the chair and walked over to him, wiping her hands on her skirt.  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do, and Gilbert was content to scoot around the floor.  I thought I’d sit and wait for you to return.”

“You don’t have
to wait for me in order to do anything.  Do whatever you want,” he replied.

Though she nodded, he sensed an uncertainty in her.  It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she’d never been given any choices in her past.  She hadn’t said much about her life in Atlanta in her two letters, but he got the impression she was risking a lot to come out to marry him.