The Substitute Bride (19 page)

She smiled, and her vision blurred. “Yes, even Tippy.”

He burrowed closer to her, and she could almost feel the weight lifting off his shoulders. “Lizzie?”

“What?”

“Can we go home?” When he turned his face to hers again, the setting sun kissed his cheeks. “I wanna see the chickens go to sleep.”

Elizabeth nodded for a moment, her heart too full to speak. “Tomorrow, Robby, after the first meeting of the ladies’ club. We’ll go home tomorrow.”

T
ed had given Elizabeth five days to come to her senses, but she and Robby hadn’t returned. He’d handled his household himself. To ask his in-laws’ help would expose his wife’s defection and give Lily another excuse to harp about raising his children, as if he couldn’t handle the job.

He dropped Anna and Henry at Rebecca’s on his way in to town, hoping she’d give them a decent meal while he dealt with his wife. Elizabeth shouldn’t play socialite while he worked himself into an early grave. And, while she was at it, make him the laughingstock of the whole town.

His children had capsized his even-keel boat. Henry tested his patience. Anna opposed his authority. Only by the power of prayer had he met the challenge. Each day left him exhausted. His respect for mothers multiplied. Especially for Elizabeth, who’d managed his children and his household without the benefit of experience or the connection of blood.

When she’d married him, she’d taken on a momentous task. And now she’d run away, leaving him to handle it alone.

He’d planted the rest of the garden—taking on her chores as if he didn’t have enough to do—and attended to his children,
feeding them…something. Each day things had gotten worse around the house, more disorderly and chaotic.

Now standing outside the parsonage waiting for Jacob to join him, hands hung limp at his sides, he faced the truth.

He missed Elizabeth the way Adam must’ve missed his rib. Something essential had been ripped from him, draining him of vitality. Every word out of his mouth took supreme effort. If he’d thought he had trouble sleeping with Elizabeth at home, he’d found it impossible now that she’d gone. His decision to act, to enlist Jacob’s help, wasn’t just about his children.

Jacob opened the door, plopped his hat on his head and strolled toward him, his gaze somber. “Not sure Elizabeth is going to appreciate my interference.”

“Probably not, but I’m hoping your presence will carry some weight.”

“Have you forgotten she insisted I add
try
to the obey vow?”

“Hardly.” He sighed. “I must’ve misunderstood God’s call. How can I pastor a church when I can’t handle my wife?”

Jacob laid a hand on Ted’s back. “All in God’s timing.”

“I hope God’s timing includes my wife’s return. Today.”

Jacob chuckled. “You and Elizabeth are an exact match for the other.”

“Match? Maybe as in struck and in flames. A man can get burned.”

“I suspect this situation with Elizabeth is providing something you need to learn before you lead a congregation.”

“Well, her absence is teaching me plenty.” He stopped in his tracks. “You won’t believe this. The gossip must’ve reached Agnes. She drove to the farm yesterday, bringing my favorite cherry pie and offering her condolences on my broken marriage.”

Ted would’ve liked to refuse the pie but it meant something edible for supper. Besides, he couldn’t blame this disaster with his wife on Agnes.

Jacob shook his head. “Shame on Agnes for trying to tempt a man when he’s down.”

“Worse, Henry toddles around the house, looking for Elizabeth, calling ‘Mama.’ Anna cries at the slightest provocation. Even Rose’s hanky no longer consoles her.”

Well, he wouldn’t let his children continue to suffer. He strode down the street, itching to settle things with his wife.

“Don’t look so grim, Ted. You’re attracting attention.”

Sure enough, a flock of neighbors were converging on them. Why hadn’t Ted remembered today was Saturday and the streets would be crowded? He lengthened his strides, eating up the ground on Main Street, trying to outrun them.

“If you expect me to help get your wife back home,” Jacob said, panting, “you’ll have to slow down.”

“Sorry.” Ted shortened his steps, moaning when the others caught up faster than a pack of starving wolves.

Jim Johnson skipped backward in front of them. “Where you going in such a hurry, Preacher? Did Mrs. Mitchell pass?”

“No.”

“Where, then?” Jim persisted.

Jacob shot Ted a look of apology. “We’re on our way to the ladies’ club to try to convince Ted’s wife to come home.”

Ted gaped at Jacob. When a man shared a confidence, shouldn’t he expect his pastor to keep it private? But no, Jacob had blabbed Ted’s personal life to this mob. Not that any of these men had overlooked the fact his wife would rather sleep on a cot in one tiny room than stay home where she belonged.

Orville Radcliff whooped. “Yes sir. The mare leaped the fence and moved on to greener pasture.”

Will Wyatt guffawed, clutching at his belly. “Can’t handle your woman, Ted, without bringing in the clergy?”

“Appears she’s got a new man in her life.”

Ted stopped in the middle of the street. He and Elizabeth
might have their problems but she’d never get involved with another man. He shot a glare at Orville.

Jim scratched his head. “Who’d that be, Orville?”

“Not sure which, but one of the Moore brothers. Leastways they hang around her like flies on horse dung.”

Ted wanted to slug someone, hardly God’s way. But these men were having themselves a good old time, at his expense. And smearing Elizabeth’s good name. Well, he wouldn’t tolerate it. “Don’t you have business to attend to? Supplies to buy? Milk to sell? Instead of making a nuisance of yourselves?”

Orville grinned. “Shore do, but this showdown’s gonna be a whole lot more interesting.”

“I’m going along because I want to know what my wife is doing at that club,” Will said.

Great. Ignoring the occasional elbow jab in the ribs, Ted strode on, determined to keep his life from falling apart. In front of the shop, now whitewashed brighter than a baby’s first tooth, he turned to the men. “I’d like to speak to my wife alone. Well, with Jacob here, but otherwise, alone.”

Will folded his arms across his chest. “Reckon that’s a decision for the ladies.”

Ted opened the door. Women gathered at the tables while his wife stood at the podium, unaware of his presence. The ladies had come as Elizabeth had predicted. And from all appearances, they were enjoying the meeting. Elizabeth had captured their hearts just like she’d captured his.

His gaze swept the room. Shelves on the back wall displayed a few books. Red-checked cloths covered small tables with wooden folding chairs decked out in red-and-white-striped bows at the back, fancied up for a party of their own. A pot of violets sat in the middle of each table. White curtains fluttered in the breeze. The room was cozy and clean, with a smidgen of style that shouted Elizabeth.

His breath caught. Why hadn’t he grasped how much she meant to him?

Wearing one of her new dresses, the blue gingham, hair coifed like the first time he’d laid eyes on her, Elizabeth made a fetching sight. His treacherous heart skipped a beat. Beautiful—and devious—that described his wife.

He walked in, the pastor on his heels. The room, abuzz with chatter, quieted. Doffing hats, the men crowded in behind him.

“Why, Ted. How nice of you to show an interest in the club,” Elizabeth said, polite and sweet, as if she hadn’t left him a week ago. “But this isn’t a convenient time. We’re in the middle of a meeting.”

Heat scorched Ted’s neck. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but this was when I could get away.” He spun his hat in his hands. “I’m here to ask you to come back home. Jacob’s along to remind you our vows said ‘till death do us part.’ There’s no ladies’ club escape clause in those vows, right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded. Couldn’t he at least thump the Good Book for emphasis? The man was worthless at spreading guilt. By now, his pa could’ve had Elizabeth on her knees. His lungs squeezed. Not that anyone should pattern himself after John Logan.

Ted surveyed the tight-lipped women. By the looks they shot him, he’d already ruffled their feathers. He was on his own with his rebel wife and a roomful of supporters eager to have his hide.

“Who are these men?” Elizabeth motioned to the crowd that had followed him. “The Break-the-vows posse?”

Cecil hooted and slapped his leg. “Ain’t she something?”

The rest of the men chuckled. Ted clenched his jaw. It appeared Cecil and Oscar spent more time with his wife than he did. He gave the group a scowl. With a final snicker, they quieted.

Orville Radcliff cleared his throat. “Reckon you could call us a posse. It’s got a nice ring to it.” He hitched his pants up a notch. “Say the word, Ted, and we’ll hog-tie her for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Though the idea had crossed his mind. Ted took a step closer. “I can handle this on my own.”

Elizabeth strode from behind the podium, eyes glaring. Had she read his thoughts?

Oscar snorted. “You’re in for it, Ted.” He plopped a foot on the rung of a chair. “Mercy, my bunion’s killing me.”

Elizabeth held up her hand. “Don’t take another step.” She parked her fists on her hips. “I won’t have your dusty clodhoppers messing up our freshly mopped floor.”

“It’s time they gave a thought to the work they make,” Gertrude Wyatt agreed.

Ted yanked off his boots, first one then the other, then stood there feeling like a fool in his stocking feet, his big toe poking through his sock. He covered it with the other foot, but not soon enough, from the smile on Elizabeth’s face.

The other men complied and then fanned out against the wall in their stocking feet, all except for the pastor. His shoes gleamed, as if dirt didn’t dare cling to his footgear.

“I worked hard on those floors,” Cecil grumped. “But Elizabeth’s biscuits are worth it. Why, I’d scrub the streets for a daily batch.”

Ted’s gaze darted to his wife. She was cooking for other men?

“I told you it was one of the Moore brothers,” Orville said. “They may be getting up in years, but they ain’t dead.”

“Who said I was dead?”

Elizabeth patted Oscar’s shoulder. “You’re not dead. Not the way you eat biscuits.”

“I see the womenfolk’s point, gents,” Cecil said. “You traipse in here without a thought to the mess you’re making. As the man in charge of the town’s streets, I have my hands full, I’ll tell ya. I can sympathize with the ladies.”

Elizabeth nodded. “A point well taken, Mr. Moore.”

Cecil scratched his head. “What are you saying, missus?”

“I said you make a good point. As the street maintenance supervisor, you’ve seen the thoughtless behavior of your gender.” Elizabeth gave Cecil a big smile. “The women of New Harmony are in your debt, sir.”

Cecil puffed up like a rooster. “You can count on me.” Then he scratched his head. “Now that gender part, I’m not sure—”

“She’s referring to men, Cecil. Shouldn’t you be on our side?” Jim said.

“I’m on the side my biscuits are buttered on.” Cecil patted his stomach.

“What I want to know is why my wife’s sitting instead of getting our supplies at Sorenson’s?” Will Wyatt said.

Gertrude stood with her hands on her hips. Mercy, they all acted like Elizabeth. “I work hard all week, taking care of you and the children. I need time away. Like you—hanging out with the men, playing checkers and telling those tall tales of yours—only we’re actually using our minds to solve the town’s problems.”

Will’s eyes about popped out of his head. “I’ve never known you to speak to me that way.”

Suddenly the men and their wives stood toe to stocking toe, ready for battle, except for Cecil and Oscar who had no wives, only bunions to keep them company. The whole thing had gotten out of hand.

If Jacob was right and God intended him to learn something from this standoff, He’d given Ted a whole series of sermons on marriage. But right now, Ted wanted life to return to normal, when the house had been peaceful—well, if not peaceful, interesting.

Ted edged closer to his wife. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes shining. His stomach knotted. Maybe keeping her on the farm was unfair. “Can I speak to you alone?”

Her eyes softened.

Around them couples argued. Ted could barely think above the din. A piercing whistle shrilled, shutting down every sound. All eyes swiveled toward his wife.

Elizabeth removed two fingers from her mouth. “Let’s adjourn the meeting and serve refreshments,” she said demurely. “Mrs. Johnson made the cake.”

Soon the men joined their wives, sipping tea. Ted took a chair at an empty table. Elizabeth finally made it to his side carrying a slice of cake and cup of tea. She set them in front of him then took a seat.

He cleared his throat. “Where’s Robby?”

“Over at the mercantile, helping unpack supplies.”

“How’s he doing?”

She smiled. “Oh, Ted, Robby’s better. He’s been afraid the farm, the dog, everything would disappear like our house in Chicago. I reassured him. He still misses Martha and Papa and grieves for Mama. But he’s able to talk about his feelings now.”

“I’m glad.” He took her hand. “You were right about that. Right about a lot of things.” He sighed, hoping he could make her understand how her leaving had turned his world upside down. “Anna and Henry miss you. A lot.”

Moisture gathered in her eyes. “I miss them, too.”

Hope for his marriage filled him, swelling in his chest until he wanted to shout with the joy of it.

“What about you, Ted? Do you miss me?”

He missed her, all right. More than parched ground missed rain and the grass missed the morning dew. He missed her like he’d lost a limb, a piece of his heart.

But he couldn’t tell her that with Oscar and Cecil at the next table hanging on his every word like hungry dogs waiting for a scrap to fall.

“Of course I do. Last night’s dinner was a disaster, worse than any meal you fixed.”

She pursed her lips. “I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel.”

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He lowered his voice. “I miss you. More than you could imagine.”

Jacob appeared at their table. He clapped a hand on Ted’s back. “Well, looks like you two are working it out. I’d better get back before Lydia sends out a search party.”

In accordance with the pitiful help the pastor had been, Ted felt like subtracting a chunk from Sunday’s offering.

He took Elizabeth’s hand. It felt right in his—soft, feminine. Inside that delicate frame resided a strong, intelligent, vital woman. Already she belonged to the town more than him. He knew she could do anything she set her mind to.