Bid for a Bride Read online

  “At least this rug is decent,” Eliza said as she bent to inspect the red and white circular rug beneath the table and two chairs. “If you want more furniture, let us know and we’ll make it. Well, when I say ‘we’, I mean John and Brian.”

  Lucy noticed the room off to the side of the parlor.

  “That’s the children’s room for when that time comes,” Eliza said. “I painted the room yellow when we built this place, but if you want a different color, we can repaint it. The same is true for all of the other rooms.”

  Lucy didn’t see any furniture in it.

  “Of course, you can use the room for whatever you want,” Eliza added.

  Lucy nodded, having no idea what she’d do with it, but then, a baby was a real possibility. She pushed aside the unwanted thought and turned back to the kitchen.

  The men returned with the blanket and pillows.

  “Is there anything you need?” Eliza asked Lucy. “John and I can run back to our place and get something.”

  Lucy glanced at everything around her and shrugged. “I don’t think there’s anything else we need.” Then she glanced at Brian. “Do we need anything else?”

  Brian shook his head. “I already have everything I need.”

  “Alright then,” Eliza said as she set the kerosene lamp on the kitchen table. “John and I will be on our way. If you think of anything, don’t be afraid to holler.”

  Lucy thanked her again.

  “I’ll see you to the wagon,” Brian said. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” he told Lucy.

  She nodded but then remembered he couldn’t see her. Before she could speak, he headed out with his parents. She stood there for a moment and took in her surroundings. It was definitely a bachelor’s place. She guessed Eliza came over to clean it up, but the things in his place spoke of a man who lived by himself and after all she’d been through with Adam, that was a great relief.

  She glanced at the carpet bag which held her things and wondered where she ought to put them. Should she put them in the only bedroom with a bed? Deciding she’d ask Brian about it when he returned, she turned her attention to the box of goods on the table and put those away in their respective places on the shelves.

  Chapter Six

  It wasn’t long before Brian returned. Lucy turned from the shelves and waited to see what he’d do. He set the walking stick by the front door and closed it.

  “It’s still cool enough at night to leave the door and windows closed,” he said and turned in her direction.

  “You know where I’m standing?” she asked, surprised.

  “I can smell you, and I hear you breathing.”

  She nodded. “I think it’ll take me some time before I get used to your talent.”

  He chuckled. “It’s not a talent. It’s just something that comes naturally to me because I’ve grown up listening and smelling what is around me.”

  “Well, I consider it a talent. I could never do it if I closed my eyes.”

  “My parents say the same thing.”

  Wiping her hands on the lower part of her dress, she cleared her throat and asked, “Where should I put my things?”

  “In the bedroom. Over here.” He stretched out his arm along the work table and grabbed her carpet bag. Then he led her to the bedroom. “Some of the drawers are empty, and you can use the closet if you wish. I hang my church suit in there so it doesn’t wrinkle.”

  She wondered how he knew if his clothes wrinkled but figured he probably touched them to find out. She’d have to stop thinking like a seeing person and start thinking as a blind one if she was going to best understand him. Picking up the kerosene lamp, she followed him, noting it was dark out now.

  He placed her carpet bag on the dresser and smiled in her direction. “I’ll let you put your things away. You’re a better judge of what to do with them than I am.”

  Biting her lower lip, she watched as he went to the kitchen. Were they going to share this bed tonight? He mentioned not being intimate until they had time to know each other better. Maybe he didn’t remember saying it.

  Slowly opening her bag, she debated the best way to broach the subject with him. He returned to the room with the blanket and pillows. Sighing, she put her things away while he spread the blanket out over the bed and fluffed the pillows before setting them at the head of the bed. He picked up his old pillow and stood in the room.

  “Don’t know what to do with it?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

  Shrugging, he said, “I’ve never had this problem before.”

  She laughed and took it from him. “Might as well put it in a drawer. You have plenty of space.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  As she bent to open the drawer, he left the room. She wondered where he was going but resisted the urge to follow him. Once she finished putting the pillow away, she decided to put the carpet bag at the bottom of the closet. When Brian came back in, he no longer had his hat and bandana on. She stood quietly in the room while he sat on the bed and took his boots off. After he set them under the small table by the bed, he began to unbutton his shirt.

  Drumming her fingers on the knob of the closet door, she asked, “Will we be sharing a bed then?”

  “I don’t have anything else to sleep on.” He stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “If it bothers you, I will sleep on the floor.”

  She thought over how to best express her concerns for a good moment before speaking. “Well, no. I don’t think you should sleep on the floor. It’s not comfortable down there, but if I am expecting Adam’s child…” She took a deep breath to settle the sudden nausea in her stomach at the thought and continued, “I’d rather know.”

  “I meant what I said at Addy and Frank’s house. I don’t expect us to know each other as husband and wife until you’ve had time to adjust to your new life. You’ve been through too much already. I don’t want to add to it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded and turned his attention back to undressing.

  She closed the closet door and went to the dresser to retrieve her nightgown, trying not to notice that he’d taken off his shirt. Even if he was blind and she’d seen Adam naked, she didn’t want to undress or see Brian without his clothes on, at least not tonight.

  Reaching for the kerosene lamp, she said, “I think I’ll visit the privy before retiring for the night.”

  “Do you want me to show you where it is?” he asked, standing up.

  “No. I saw where it was when we came here. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Alright. If you need anything, holler and I’ll go out there.” He stepped to the window and opened it. “I can hear you if you call for me.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. After all, it’s just us.”

  Without another word, she carried the lamp and nightgown with her and went outside. The cool night air greeted her, and for a moment, she stood on the porch and took in her surroundings. Insects buzzed and an owl hooted from a tree nearby. The path to the outhouse was marked with a rope, so she followed it. When she reached the outhouse, she opened the door and frowned. It was smaller than it looked from the outside which meant there was no room to change clothes. Sighing, she placed the nightgown and lamp on the ground and hurried to relieve her bladder.

  As she sat there, it suddenly occurred to her just how dark everything was. She tried not to let her mind wander in directions where it shouldn’t, but the memory of the darkness reminded her of the night before her wedding to Adam.

  She’d lingered too long at the lake and fell asleep until the sun was nearly set. It would be her last time in her favorite childhood spot, and after spending a long week preparing for the wedding, she wanted time alone to rest. The house wasn’t too far, so her parents could see where she was, which might have been why they didn’t bother her. She stirred from her slumber, briefly aware of the sound of someone approaching.

  Lucy shivered, her mind returning to the present and reached out around her for something
to wipe with, mentally cursing herself for not taking the time to inspect the outhouse better before she entered it. She opened the door, only a little relieved by the light from the kerosene lamp showing her a newspaper with a few torn pages. After she was finished, she hurried out of the outhouse and threw her clothes off, trying not to think of every little sound that echoed through the still night.

  She’s not here. I’m safe.

  But these assurances did little to ease her mind, and she could hear animals—squirrels maybe—scamper around from one tree to another.

  It’s not footsteps.

  She grabbed her nightgown and pulled it over her head when she heard what had to be footsteps that could easily come from a human. Uttering a muffled cry, she yanked the nightgown down and snatched the lamp and her clothes before she rushed toward the house. She glanced behind her and almost tripped on a tree branch.

  There’s nothing to be afraid of out here!

  But even as she thought it, the memory of her sister’s hands clamping down on her shoulders jarred her into a faster run until she bumped into something solid. She screamed and would have fallen back if a hand hadn’t reached out to steady her.

  “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

  It took her a moment to realize it was Brian who spoke to her.

  “Nothing.” She gasped and swallowed. “I was imagining things, and then I heard things that weren’t really there.” Not there with them in the present, but she didn’t want to rehash the past.

  “I should have insisted on coming out here with you,” he said. “Ma says the darkness can be a frightening thing for a woman. Do you need to wash your hands?”

  Taking a deep breath, she renewed her grip on the kerosene lamp. “Um…yes. I should.” She held up the lamp. Where was the well? She remembered seeing it, but at the moment, she couldn’t remember its exact location.

  He gently took her by the arm and led her to the well.

  Glancing down, she noticed he didn’t have his walking stick with him, but she guessed when he was close to the house, he didn’t bother with it. That, or he was in a hurry to get to her. Either way, she was glad he came out because the distance to the house seemed abnormally long in the dark.

  When they reached the well, she quickly washed her hands, using the bar of soap close by and said, “I’m ready to go back to the house.”

  She moved closer to him and was greatly comforted when he put his arm around her shoulders so that she could lean against him for support. When they got to the bedroom, she dropped her things in the corner of the room. Those clothes needed washing, which was something she’d deal with another day. She doubted she’d be up to washing them tomorrow, but she would find a better place to store them until she was ready to do the laundry.

  Brian settled into the bed and shut his eyes. Taking that as her cue that the day was officially over, she turned down the lamp until it was dark in the room and climbed in next to him. His body was nice and warm, and she suddenly realized how chilly she’d gotten outside.

  “Brian?” she whispered, turning to him.

  “Yes?” he asked, his voice soft.

  “Will you hold me?”

  He drew her into his arms, and she snuggled up to him. She liked his solid strength and gentleness. After everything she’d been through, it was a much needed relief. Settling her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and soon fell asleep.

  ***

  Brian stirred in the bed and slowly inhaled. It took him a moment to figure out what was different. The enticing aroma of pancakes and coffee made his mouth water in anticipation. Then he noticed that Lucy was humming to herself. He remained in bed and kept his eyes closed in case she peered in at him from the kitchen and knew he was listening to her.

  The previous day’s events happened so fast that they seemed to blur into each other, but he was already in love with her. He didn’t think he’d love anyone after Annabelle told him she didn’t want him to court her. However, that was a good four years ago, and time had eased that heartache. Now he found old feelings stirring that he once thought he’d never experience again.

  Lucy stopped humming, and the approaching sound of her footsteps alerted him to the fact that she entered the bedroom. He felt the bed sink slightly as she sat next to him. “Brian?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

  Smiling, he opened his eyes. “Yes. You have a nice voice. I heard you humming.”

  “Why, you’ve been sneaky, being awake without telling me and all.”

  He noted the amusement in her tone and chuckled. “It’s not every day I get to wake up to such lovely company.”

  Her hand closed around his, and the bed shifted before he felt her lips on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Brian.”

  Touched, he squeezed her hand and then brought it to his heart. “I’m glad you’re here.” He hesitated but decided to ask the question he’d wanted to ask her ever since she agreed to be his wife. “May I touch your face? It’s how I get an impression of what people look like.”

  “Alright.”

  His heart pounded as he reached up. His fingers brushed hair first. Curious, he traced it to the nape of her neck where she had it pulled back into a bun. “How long is your hair?”

  “It goes down to the middle of my back,” she softly replied.

  “It’s thick. Do you ever wear it down?”

  “Mostly just to wash it. It tangles something awful if I don’t pull it back into a bun.”

  “I bet it looks nice though. It’s too bad I can’t see it.”

  Actually, it was too bad he couldn’t see her face either. There were a few times in his life when he wished he could see, and this was one of them. He’d heard she was beautiful, but he had no idea what that meant, except people enjoyed looking at her. But then, Harvey said he thought Madeline was beautiful and to hear the townsfolk talk, you’d think the woman ought to put a bag over her head. Beauty, he had learned early on, was subjective. Still, he fancied that when people said Lucy was beautiful, she really was.

  He brought his fingers to her cheeks and traced the curve of them upwards, making sure he didn’t poke her in the eye as he brushed her eyelashes and eyebrows. Her forehead was smooth. Bringing his fingers back down, he traced the small arch of her nose and the curve of her lips, noting the lower lip wasn’t too much larger than the top one. Her chin jutted out only a little, and it didn’t have a cleft in it like Annabelle’s did. That was a good thing. He didn’t want to associate Lucy with Annabelle. Then he brought his fingers back to her cheeks and decided she had high cheekbones.

  Finished, he lowered his hands and settled them back on her hand which was still on his chest. “You’re skin is soft. You don’t spend a lot of time out in the sun, or you carry a parasol with you when you do.”

  “What would my face feel like if I did spend a lot of time in the sun?”

  “Leathery. Rough. I spend some time in the sun without my hat. Do you feel the difference?” He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek and forehead before he pressed it to her own face. “I don’t spend too much time in the sun, so it’s not too different.”

  “I feel it, but you’re right. The difference is subtle.” She chuckled and touched his jaw. “Now, this stubble feels rough.”

  Grinning, he said, “I can take care of that with a razor.”

  “You shave yourself?”

  “Yes. How did you think I did it?”

  “To be honest, I thought your ma did it.”

  “No. I just feel where I need to shave. It’s easy.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. You make it seem that way, but I bet if I closed my eyes, I’d have a terrible time shaving.”

  “You have a beard?” he teased.

  “Oh, you!” She laughed and patted his hand. “All silliness aside, I came in to tell you that breakfast is ready.”

  “Then I shall dress and shave.”

  “Alright, but don’t take too long. Pancakes don’t stay warm for long.”

>   He smiled as she stood up. Her footsteps retreated to the kitchen, and he got out of bed to get ready for the day.

  Chapter Seven

  After breakfast, Lucy walked with Brian to the work shed which had a table, a dresser, and the beginning of a bed frame. “These are for Harvey and Ingrid’s child. He turns three and will be moving out of the crib. It’s a good thing too since they’re about to have another one.”

  She nodded then remembered he couldn’t see her response. “That’s good news for them.”

  He smiled and tapped his walking stick on the floor as he walked over to the table. “They had a hard time having the first one, so we’re all happy for them.”

  Sighing, she wondered what it would feel like to be excited over the impending birth of a child. She considered what she would feel if this was Brian’s child she might be carrying, and noted the difference in her mood. Her heart would be lighter.

  “Lucy, what’s wrong?”

  She turned to him, surprised he detected her change in mood so easily.

  “Your sigh,” he explained. “There was a hint of sorrow in it.”

  “You don’t miss anything, do you?” Tracing the unfinished dresser, she marveled at the precision in the cutting. “What part of the furniture work do you do? You don’t cut the design, do you?”

  “You’re avoiding the topic,” he gently said.

  “Because I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked at him, wondering if he’d press the issue.

  After a moment of silence, he said, “I smooth the surface of the furniture, sometimes stain and paint them, and help deliver them.”

  She exhaled, glad he agreed to change the topic. Maybe in a few days she’d feel comfortable enough to discuss it, but she wasn’t up to it now. She cleared her throat. “Do you always have something to work on?”

  “Pa and I do very well, but there are brief periods when there’s no work. Once in awhile, I assist him on a house repair in town, but for the most part, I stick with the furniture.”