The Substitute Bride (16 page)

Robby appeared, rumpled from sleep and ready for breakfast.

“I’ll never stop missing you two,” Martha said, putting out a breakfast fit for a king.

“I wish you could come to Iowa. I could sure use your help with Ted’s children.” She sighed. “But there’s no room in the house and no money to pay you.”

“From what you said last night, your struggles with Anna can’t be fixed with good meals and fair rules, though those things are important.” She took Elizabeth’s hand. “Anna needs you to open your heart to her. To love her. Even when she’s
unlovable. That’s what all children need.” She smiled. “That’s what I gave you.”

At Martha’s advice, Elizabeth released a shaky breath, knowing getting close to Ted and his children meant inevitable heartache.

She took Martha’s callused hand, now much like her own. “When do you leave for your sister’s?”

“I’ve changed my mind about that.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t let Seymour go through this alone.”

Elizabeth noted the use of her father’s first name. What had transpired between Martha and Papa? “What are you saying?”

“I’ve taken a position as a cook in the same boardinghouse where your father’s taken a room.”

Elizabeth studied Martha’s damp eyes, the lines etched in her brow. Never once had she seen anything improper between her and Papa. But the misery in Martha’s eyes reminded her of an expression she’d seen in her own. “Are you in love with—”

Nodding, Martha squeezed her hand. “Is that all right with you?”

“Yes.” Why hadn’t Papa mentioned their relationship? Perhaps she’d been too focused on her own life to notice the attraction between them.

“But I won’t marry a man who’s set on destroying himself. And those he claims to love. I’m praying for him. For you. For all of us.”

“Papa broke Mama’s heart. Don’t let him do that to you.”

“I’m not your mother, God bless her. I’ve lived in this house since you were five. I never once saw her oppose Seymour.”

“Are you saying if she had, things would’ve been different?”

“Who’s to say? Seymour and I have talked. He knows where I stand when it comes to gambling, to what he’s done to his family. He wants to change, but whether he can…well, that’s why I’m staying in Chicago, for now.”

Maybe this woman had made a change in Papa. Or perhaps he’d reached the bottom of the abyss and had found the courage to climb out. Or maybe God was working in Papa’s life. Whatever the reason, hope latched onto her heart. Maybe God would perform a miracle where Papa was concerned.

Martha accompanied her and Robby to the depot, and waved goodbye from the platform, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Elizabeth wiped Robby’s tears as the train pulled away, tugging him close. “You’re going to love the farm.”

Her brother would find happiness in Iowa. She hoped Martha and her father would find happiness with each other in Chicago. Without a doubt, Martha was a good influence on Papa.

That Martha and Papa had found something she and Ted might never possess squeezed against her heart.

At least, by marrying Ted, she could give Robby his dream.

Anna blocked the doorway into her room, her arms folded across her chest, her chin thrust to the ceiling. “He’s not coming in here.”

“Mind your manners, young lady.” Ted’s stern tone issued a warning, but Anna stood her ground.

“My brother will share my room, Anna,” Elizabeth said, wishing she’d thought to settle this before she’d left for Chicago.

Anna smirked. “Daddy doesn’t like you and Robby.”

“Anna! That’s not true.” Ted exhaled. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“’Cause you sleep in the barn.”

Crimson climbed Ted’s neck. “Never mind where I sleep. Elizabeth and I are the adults here. We make the decisions.”

Ted’s harsh tone crumbled Anna’s bravado. Tears filled her eyes. She spun into her room, slamming the door.

The three of them stood mute. At their feet, Henry clapped his hands, as if he’d witnessed a stunning performance.

Robby leaned into her. “I want to go home.” Elizabeth dropped to her knees and drew her brother close. He buried his face against her shoulder. “
Please,
Lizzie, take me
home.
”

How could she tell her brother he had no house to go home to? “It’ll be all right, sweet boy. You’ll love the farm.”

Ted laid a hand on Robby’s shoulder. “Do you want to watch me milk the cows?”

Robby shook his head. Tears stung Elizabeth’s eyes. Ted was a good man and did what he could to keep things on an even keel. But Robby wasn’t some ship passing through rough waters. He was hurting.

“Robby,” Ted said, “there are cookies on a plate in the kitchen. Why don’t you have a couple before bed.”

Robby looked to her. She nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

Her brother shuffled across the living room and down the steps to the kitchen.

Ted tugged her to the sofa and leaned close. “You’re trying too hard, Elizabeth.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t force the children to get along. Give it time. They’ve just met.”

“Would it have hurt Anna to show Robby her room?” she whispered. “She wouldn’t even let him look at it.”

“She’s acting like…Anna.” He smiled. “I’ll talk to her. But you and I need to relax and give the children time to get used to the idea of being a family. We need to be careful not to pick sides. In the meantime, we’ll ask for God’s help, then leave it in His hands.”

“I’ll try.”

“I know how disappointing this is for you. Give Robby time to adjust.” He patted her hand. “I’m going out to milk.”

She walked Ted to the kitchen door. He turned to Robby. “Good night, Robby. Sleep well.”

Robby had finished his snack. As Elizabeth led him to her room, she felt a prickle down her back. She’d married Ted to give her brother a home, to give Robby the security he lacked. Never once had she considered that he wouldn’t be happy here.

But Anna wasn’t about to accept Robby any more than she’d accepted Elizabeth. And her brother missed Martha and Papa more than she’d expected.

But then she remembered Ted’s words. She needed to pray. To give it time.

Please, Lord. Work this out for Robby’s sake. For Anna’s sake. For all of us.

With Tippy loping alongside him, Ted wrestled the slop jar while Robby gripped the pail, not much help, but doing what Ted had asked. His gaze lifted to the sky. Not a cloud in sight. “Looks like another dry day.”

Robby nodded.

“Not good for the crops. We need rain.”

Robby nodded again, looking jumpy, as though he wanted to hightail it back to Elizabeth.

“You like pigs?”

“I dunno.”

From the sad expression on his face, the poor kid must think he was heading to the gallows instead of the pigpen. Earlier Ted practically had to hogtie the youngster to get him to release his hold on Elizabeth’s apron strings.

Ted stopped and waited until Robby looked up at him. “Way I see it, you have two choices. You can keep on saying no more than two words to me or you can try and enjoy yourself here.”

Robby toed the ground. “I’m probably not gonna stay, anyway.”

His words pretty much summarized Ted’s childhood. Sympathy rose in his chest. He’d find the same patience he had
with Anna. His daughter chose to fight while Robby chose to shrink from connection. He’d do all he could to bring this boy to life.

“My family went from place to place and I know how hard it is to fit in.”

Robby glanced up at him, then quickly away.

“I know how difficult it must’ve been for you to leave your life and family in Chicago to come to an unfamiliar place. I’d like to help you feel at home here…if you’ll let me.”

Robby didn’t say a word, but his eyes glimmered with tears.

He’d no doubt been the pet of the family. Having to share Elizabeth’s attention must hurt. But sitting on the sidelines, feeling edgy, lonely and overwhelmed only made things worse. He’d involve Robby in the work on the farm. The best remedy for what ailed him. Time in the fresh air and sunshine wouldn’t hurt, either. He’d run the boy ragged.

“This morning, you and I are going to feed this slop to the pigs. By the time we’re done, breakfast will be waiting for us. And we’ll give those pigs a run for their money.” He chucked Robby under the chin. “Now don’t you go telling your sister I mentioned slop and her breakfast in the same breath, or we’ll both find ourselves in the doghouse.”

As if against his will, the corners of Robby’s mouth twisted up. “Yes, sir.” He cocked his head at him. “Slop?”

“That’s what we call what’s in this pail. The pigs get the potato skins, eggshells, every scrap of edible food left from our table. They love us for it. And we love them for using our leftovers to grow side meat and chops.”

The boy looked puzzled. Better to leave him in the dark for now. “God knew what He was doing with every creature He made. Not that we always appreciate them all. Any animal or bug you could do without?”

Robby shrugged.

At the pigpen, Ted hauled the bucket over the fence, hopped it and then helped Robby scramble over the slats. Tippy sat on his haunches, watching. With Robby’s help, Ted dumped the slop into the trough, then stepped back and called the pigs. “Suey! Suey, pig, pig!”

Ted heard them before he saw them. They left their foraging in the woods and trotted toward them, snorting, grunting and shoving toward the trough. Noses plowed through the mixture, fighting their neighbors for a share. “They’re not much for table manners,” Ted said.

“No, sir.”

“They remind me of Henry going after your sister’s biscuits.”

Robby almost smiled.

“Sometimes you’ve got to be like those pigs, Robby, and push your way in.” Especially with a girl like Anna.

Ted motioned to the nearby pen. “Never climb that fence. That old boar isn’t above adding boy to the menu.”

“Yes, sir.”

Back at the house, they washed their hands at the pump. “Better take your shoes off. If you don’t, your sister will tan my hide.”

Inside, Henry sat in his high chair, smearing oatmeal on his hair. Ted glanced at Robby. “Does my son remind you of anybody?”

“Yes, sir,” Robby said, and his eyes almost twinkled.

The boy’s conversational skills could use work, but the amused expression on his face looked promising.

Whereas his daughter eyed him warily, her mouth turned down as she finished laying out the flatware.

Elizabeth poured the milk. Her questioning gaze met Ted’s.

“Your brother was a big help, Elizabeth.” Ted glanced at Anna. “With two children to lend a hand around here, the work will get done a lot faster. Perhaps Anna and Robby could handle the egg gathering.” Maybe they’d find a way to get past all this timidity and hostility.

Anna crossed her arms across her chest. “I can do it by myself. I don’t want his help.”

“We all need to rely on others, Anna,” Ted said.

“I don’t.”

Robby’s face flattened, his gaze throwing up a wall between him and Ted’s family. In the blink of an eye, Anna had undone what little progress Ted had made.

A
vanilla cream cake. What should have been a simple creation. Elizabeth had fretted over the layers as if they were newborn babes. That morning when she’d examined her handiwork, she’d realized she’d created a cake not merely for the Sumner’s silver anniversary party, but for her husband.

To show Ted she could master more than biscuits. That she was a wife he could admire. Her heart skipped a beat. If she could, she’d have tossed the cake into the slop jar. Because no matter what that adage said about the way to a man’s heart—

She had no intention of letting one vanilla cream cake take her any closer to Ted Logan.

The entire town had been invited to the ice cream social, including Richard and Lily, who’d moved into the boardinghouse and showed no signs of leaving. Elizabeth had been practicing her cake baking on Rose’s parents, even learned a few tips from Lily, who delighted in being the superior cook. She and Lily had gotten off on shaky footing, but Lily’s willingness to pitch in and her kindhearted treatment of Robby had eased the tension between them.

With the fields planted, the men crouched before ice cream
freezers, wearing smiles on their faces, hats shoved back on their heads, eagerly cranking the handles that transformed the glob of eggs, cream and sugar into a luscious treat. Around them, children played kickball, marbles and jacks and giggled their breathless way up and down the hills.

“Looks like everyone is having a good time,” Elizabeth said to Ted.

“You look mighty happy yourself.”

She gave him a smile, surprised to realize she was. “I love parties. And I’m hoping Robby will make a friend.”

With Henry in his arms, Ted reached up to help her out of the wagon. “I’ll have to remember your love of parties.”

Looking into that handsome smiling face, she marveled that Ted wanted to please her and strived to help Robby feel at home. As he helped her down, the warmth of his touch shot through her. Her insides felt like a cup poured full to the brim, ready to spill over.

Surely this couldn’t last.

Anna joined the other children while Robby plodded along with Ted and slouched nearby as Ted set up then cranked his own freezer, with Henry perched on his knee.

Elizabeth carried her basket to a long table covered with a white cloth flapping in the gentle breeze. Women gathered around it, putting out their cakes.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Gertie Wyatt squinted up into the sky. “Not a cloud in sight. All this sunshine gives me the willies.”

Ruth Johnson set out a cake frosted with a burnt-sugar icing. “It’ll rain, Gertie. Always has.” She raised her eyes to the heavens. “Though sooner’s better than later, Lord.”

Gertie opened her basket, lifted a cake sprinkled with coconut. “Remember when that evangelist came here for a prayer meeting? We had terrible storms all week. But all that rain didn’t douse his fire-and-brimstone sermons.”

“Yeah, that podium pounding cost us our building fund besides.”

“It’s the Sumners’ anniversary. Let’s enjoy the party.” Rebecca Harper shifted Faith in her arms. “I hear enough dreary talk at home.”

Elizabeth put her basket beside the others and lifted the lid. Inside rested her masterpiece, a towering cake with peaks of white frosting gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Rebecca peeked inside. “What a beautiful cake. You’ve outshone all of us.”

“Don’t be silly.” Elizabeth looked around at all the marvelous cakes, secretly pleased by Rebecca’s appraisal.

Ted came up behind her just as she lifted the cake plate from the picnic basket. The top layer slid toward her. Elizabeth tipped the platter to reverse the momentum, but that only sent the layer toward the ground. She yanked it back and the top layer slid across the bottom, coming to a stop against the front of her dress. “Oh!”

“Let me get a knife,” Rebecca said, handing Faith to Ted, then turning to her own basket. Rebecca slipped the spatula under the wayward half and lifted it back in place, then smoothed the frosting over the crack in the top. “There.”

Ted eyed Elizabeth’s dress. “You look mighty delicious covered with frosting, Mrs. Logan.”

The women chuckled.

He stepped closer. “Better even than wearing biscuit dough,” he murmured in Elizabeth’s ear.

Scrubbing at her dress, Elizabeth’s hand stilled. She didn’t want her husband drooling over her like she was a confection made only for him.

Winking at her, Ted handed Faith over to Rebecca then wandered back to the men.

Rebecca grinned. “You’re perfect for Ted.”

“A perfect wife wouldn’t be covered with frosting.”

“You must not have seen the look in his eye. He’s smitten.”

Elizabeth’s gaze followed Ted. Her heart took a little dive. Did he care about her? What did it matter, really? She wasn’t perfect for Ted. She couldn’t fill Rose’s shoes and was a sorry substitute for Sally. She’d married to give Robby a good home and now that he’d arrived, her brother wasn’t happy the way she’d expected. She had no idea why. Or what to do about it.

“Elizabeth Logan, you’d better do something with this girl!” Cynthia Atwater stomped over with Anna, her hand clamped on Ted’s daughter’s shoulder.

Tears streamed down Anna’s face, her eyes wide with fright, her breath coming in hitches. All conversation ceased.

Elizabeth grasped Anna’s hand and caught her gaze. “What’s wrong, Anna?”

“She took a big hunk out of my cake, that’s what’s wrong.”

Anna shook her head, her body shaking even harder.

Robby tapped Elizabeth on the arm. “Anna didn’t do it.” He swallowed hard. “I ate the cake.”

“Robby, I saw you over with the men. You couldn’t have done it.” Her brother’s bravado waned. But his attempt to save Anna warmed Elizabeth’s heart. “Thanks for trying to help,” she whispered into his ear.

Elizabeth knelt and pulled Anna into her embrace.

“I didn’t do it,” Anna said against Elizabeth’s neck, her voice soft, pleading with Elizabeth to believe her. “Honest.”

This wasn’t the Anna with attitude; this child needed a defender, deserved one. Anna had her issues but she wasn’t a liar.

“She was right there when suddenly a big hunk of my angel-food cake disappeared. My Betsy saw her take it. Do you have any idea how many eggs it takes to make that cake?”

Elizabeth rose and tucked Anna against her side. “I’m sorry about your cake, but Anna says she didn’t do it. I believe her.”

Mrs. Atwater’s hands rested on her heart-shaped hips. “She’s not above a prank like this, I’ll tell you. Why, she’s got a mouth on her, that girl. Everyone knows it.”

Anna hung her head, tearing at Elizabeth’s heart. “She’s a girl with…opinions. Perhaps at times she needs to express them in a milder way, but she does not lie.”

Mrs. Atwater harrumphed. “And what am I going to do with a cake that’s half-gone?”

Rebecca marched down the table to Mrs. Atwater’s cake and turned the missing part to the back. “It’s only missing a chunk. There’s plenty left.”

“This isn’t just any cake. This is a prize-winning recipe.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mrs. Atwater’s daughter, who ducked behind her mother’s skirts, but not quickly enough. “Are those crumbs on Betsy’s mouth?”

Betsy poked her head out and scrubbed a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t eat the cake, Mama. I didn’t!”

“Let me see that hand, daughter.” Mrs. Atwater examined the small palm, dusted with evidence. “Betsy Marie Atwater! You’ve embarrassed me in front of my neighbors and accused Anna of something
you
did.”

“Your cake is tempting,” Elizabeth said softly. “Betsy probably couldn’t help herself.”

Betsy’s head bobbed like a small sailboat on Lake Michigan during a storm. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Apologies were given to all concerned. Betsy and her mother fell into each other’s arms, crying. The ladies went back to unpacking their baskets.

Elizabeth felt a tug on her hand. She knelt in front of Anna and ran her palms over the little girl’s damp cheeks. “You okay?”

Anna nodded, opened her mouth, shut it again.

“What?”

“You believed me.” She leaned close and kissed Eliza
beth’s cheek, her eyes filled with regret for the trouble between them.

A lump swelled in Elizabeth’s throat until she could barely speak. “You’re a truthful girl. I had no reason to doubt you.”

“I…I say…mean things to you.”

“I know how hard it is to lose your mother, Anna. I understand. I understand it all.”

As if they’d been given an order, Anna and Elizabeth flung their arms around each other, sharing the pain of their losses. When they pulled away, they shared something else—a new harmony.

Anna spun to Robby. “Want to play with us?”

Before he could answer, she led him to a group of children kicking a ball across the way. Anna glanced back one last time and gave Elizabeth a smile, her gaze filled with warmth, something close to adoration.

Tears pricked the backs of Elizabeth’s eyes. Her heart swelled with conflicting emotions that battled for control. What was she going to do now? She cared for Henry and Anna, cared more than she wanted to admit. She’d opened that door to Ted’s children leading into her heart.

But she wouldn’t open it for Ted. He didn’t merely want a mother for his children. He wanted a wife. To kiss. To hold. To share his life. But loving a man could destroy her.

She pivoted, all but running into Ted, who blocked her way.

“I heard you stand up for Anna. I can’t thank you enough.” He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “When I met you at the depot that day, I was afraid you wouldn’t fit. But you’re a terrific mother.” He cupped her jaw with his large hand, his expression intense, full of longing. “A wonderful wife.”

Elizabeth pulled away. Ted’s words might have meant something if she shared his wish for intimacy. But she didn’t.

She wasn’t a wonderful wife at all.

Around Ted, neighbors gobbled ice cream and cake, having a good time. Good people doing the best they could with very little other than love and hard work—two things that had been foreign to his family. New Harmony was such a welcoming place. Such a family place. But Ted didn’t see the other families. He saw only his own. That Elizabeth had defended his daughter in front of the whole town rumbled through him.

His mother had been an ineffectual woman who’d never taken a stand. Not for her children. Not against her husband. Not for herself. He’d hustled over, ready to defend Anna. Certain with all the grief Anna had given her, Elizabeth wouldn’t uphold his daughter. He felt like one penny short of two cents. His wife and daughter might clash at home, but when the chips were down, Elizabeth reminded him of a mother bear with a cornered cub.

“You’re looking mighty sober, Ted Logan,” Rebecca said. “An ice cream social is no place for that face.”

He smiled. “Guess you’re right.”

“Now what you need to do is ask that pretty wife of yours to join you in the three-legged sack race. Lily can watch Henry and Anna.” She took Henry out of his arms and gave Ted a little push toward Elizabeth.

“What about you and Dan?”

“He wouldn’t miss the chance to be in the sack with me.”

Ted laughed and headed toward his wife. Though he found her surrounded by women, he saw only her. The prettiest, most vibrant of them all.

The ladies stepped back when he arrived, opening a path to his wife. He took her hand and led her aside. “Want to enter the sack race?”

“What do we get if we win?”

He tugged on the brim of his hat, a smile curving his lips. “I heard the prize is a slightly dented angel-food cake.”

Her eyes lit with mirth.

Couples donned the feed sacks, not an easy task with the volume of the women’s skirts and petticoats. A chorus of giggles and chuckles peppered the starting line.

Ted grabbed a sack from the pile and laid it out on the ground. “Step into it.”

Elizabeth did as he asked. “Wish I had on my pants.”

Grinning, he joined his left foot to her right then pulled up the sack until it reached her waist and divided her skirts. “I’ll hold it while you arrange your skirts. I don’t want you to step on your dress.”

Everyone lined up. The starter raised his hand.

He tucked her close in the crook of his arm. “Hold the sack with one hand and me with the other.”

Her arm inched around his back slowly, as though she expected him to bite. Her gaze slid to his mouth then quickly returned to his eyes. “Which…foot do…we start with?” she stammered.

“Start on the foot in the sack. We’ll try to swing them out together.” He tucked his arm around her waist and gave it a squeeze. Their eyes met and collided, but only for a moment. “We’ll go as fast as we can without falling. If we fall, we’ll lose for sure.”

The hand went down, a shout went up. In unison Ted and Elizabeth threw out their sacked legs. Gripping each other like their lives depended on it, they lurched ahead. Ted held Elizabeth tight, keeping her on her feet. The Wyatts went down beside them but they kept going, laughing from the exhilaration but never taking their eyes off the finish line. They sped along with only the Harpers in close competition.

At the rope stretched across the ground, Ted lunged, dragging Elizabeth with him. They stumbled over the line, inches ahead of the Harpers, and landed in a heap on the grass, laughing while their neighbors clapped their approval.

Ted gave Elizabeth a quick kiss on her forehead. “We make quite a team, Mrs. Logan,” he said, then extricated them from the sack and tugged her to her feet. “I’ve never had a better partner.”

As he had earlier, he read the panic in her eyes. Why was Elizabeth afraid to get close?