Bid for a Bride Read online

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s soothing work, and I can feel the progress. I like knowing something is getting done.”

  “Well, it’s gorgeous work.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. Pa and I keep the stains, paints, and lumber in the other shed. Would you like to see it?”

  “No, that’s alright. I was more interested in the furniture.”

  Someone knocked on the door, so she turned. John stood in the doorway and waved.

  “Morning, Pa,” Brian said and walked over to him.

  She was about to ask Brian how he knew it was John but figured he probably picked up on some scent.

  As if he read her mind, Brian turned in her direction and said, “Ma will start talking. Pa knocks.”

  “Oh.” Well, so much for that guess. She was beginning to find how he picked up on so many things intriguing.

  John placed his hand under Brian’s and made some more of those signs she saw him make the day before.

  “Yes, we ate,” Brian said. “Lucy’s a great cook.”

  Her cheeks grew warm from the compliment.

  John smiled at her and used more signs.

  Brian laughed. “I think so. Lucy, do you enjoy cooking?”

  Looking at John, she nodded. “I like it well enough.”

  After John used a few more signs, Brian said, “Ma doesn’t care for it. She hoped that you liked it enough so that you’d help her improve her meals.” He directed his face to John. “Ma doesn’t cook that badly.”

  John shook his head and did more signs.

  “Oh, right. You said she doesn’t like it. I understand.”

  John continued to sign.

  “Lucy, would you like to stop by their house for coffee and cookies? Ma actually enjoys making those.”

  “In that case, it would be wrong to miss it,” Lucy replied.

  John waved her toward the house and stepped aside.

  Taking that as her cue, she walked passed him, said thank you, and left the small cabin. The two men joined her, and as soon as they reached the house, Eliza opened the door.

  “Well, come on in,” she said.

  Lucy walked in first, followed by Brian who set his walking stick by the door.

  “How are you feeling today, Lucy?” Eliza asked as she shut the door once John walked in.

  Lucy glanced at Brian and smiled. “Much better. I like where you live. Nice and quiet. Peaceful.”

  Brian pulled out a chair. “Will you have a seat?” he asked Lucy.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Don’t mind me,” Eliza told the men. “I’m going to be jumping up and down getting the snack. Sit down and rest. We had a big day yesterday.”

  Brian sat to Lucy’s left and John sat next to him, leaving the seat to her right empty.

  Eliza set out the cups and poured coffee into them. “Today John and I were planning to pick up your buggy. In fact, we were going to head out after this snack. Did you and Brian want to come along? You could pick up some items from the mercantile. I’m sure there are supplies you’ll want for your new home.” She nudged Brian in the shoulder as she passed by. “You might as well learn that once you married Lucy, that house became hers to do with as she wishes.”

  Brian laughed. “I don’t mind, Ma. At least she can see what’s in it.”

  John slipped his hand under Brian’s and signed to him.

  Brian glanced in Lucy’s direction. “When Pa and Ma met, she insisted they paint all the rooms in the house.”

  Eliza set the coffee pot back on the cook stove and shook her head. “Really. I didn’t insist,” she told John. “You wanted me to pretty the place up. Why else would you have planted those flowers all around the house?” She looked at Lucy as she picked up a plate of cookies. “He didn’t plant any flowers by that cabin I stayed in. His plan all along was to marry me and have me live in this house.”

  John shrugged, turned to Eliza, and raised his eyebrows.

  “I know it worked,” she told him before she put the plate on the table and sat down. “Lucy, would you like to paint your new home? That Willy has some paints on hand.”

  Lucy thought about the wood walls of Brian’s place. “Well, I wouldn’t mind something off-white. It’d lighten up the rooms.”

  John signed under Brian’s hand, and Brian said, “Pa says you have good taste.”

  “Oh, come on now,” Eliza told John. “You didn’t mind it when I wanted to paint this kitchen yellow.”

  He winked at her.

  She smiled and turned to Lucy. “What kind of curtains would you like?”

  Lucy thought about it for a moment. “A light blue might be nice.”

  “There you go,” Eliza told John. “She does want some color. You’d want white for everything.”

  Lucy hid her amusement and couldn’t help but wonder if she and Brian might one day share the easygoing relationship his parents did. She’d like to have that kind of closeness eventually. She glanced at him as he reached for a cookie.

  To her surprise, he held it out to her. “Would you like one?”

  She took it, thanked him, and bit into it. “It’s good,” she told Eliza.

  “It’s one of the few things I make without periodically burning it,” Eliza said. “It’s not that I try to be a bad cook, but I don’t have whatever it is women are born with to be good cooks.”

  “Lucy did a real fine job of making pancakes this morning,” Brian spoke up as he selected another cookie.

  “Yes,” Eliza began, “I tried those a couple times. I never can figure out when to turn them. Hence why I burn those. You know what I like? I like making scrambled eggs. That’s easy. You just stir them and they pretty much cook themselves.”

  Lucy finished her cookie and drank some of the coffee. She listened for the most part as they talked while she ate a couple more cookies and drank the rest of her coffee. It seemed the day’s plans had been set, and she rather enjoyed the notion of picking out things to make her new home with Brian a more cheerful one.

  After they got through eating, they got the wagon ready and headed for town. As before, Brian held her hand, and she leaned against him. The contact was beginning to feel more comfortable, more familiar. This time, she took better note of her surroundings as they traveled down the beaten path.

  As the town came into view, there was the moment where she recalled her first time entering it, when Adam came to get rid of her. She tightened her hold on Brian’s hand, and he placed his other one on top of hers.

  Eliza looked over at her. “I think we should get the paint first. Then we can pick up the fabrics for the curtains. Addy makes curtains, unless you can do it yourself. Can you make curtains?”

  “Yes,” Lucy replied. “I can sew just about anything.”

  Eliza laughed. “Why, aren’t you a marvel. Addy tried to teach me how to sew. I can make something basic like a pillowcase, but other than that, I’m not very good. I once made a shirt for Brian when he first came to live with us, and one sleeve was much shorter than the other. From then on, I let Addy do the sewing or ordered items in the catalogue at the mercantile.”

  “I remember that shirt,” Brian said.

  “I thought since you were a boy, it would be easier to make you a shirt than try to make one for John,” Eliza replied. “Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, I suppose.”

  Lucy relaxed her hold on Brian’s hand as they entered town. Brian wasn’t Adam. He wasn’t going to leave her. With a relieved sigh, she scanned the buildings, grateful Addy had insisted on giving her the tour of the place.

  After John parked the wagon, they got out and went to gather paint. Eliza led the way, explaining to Lucy that William Jafferty went by the nickname Old Willy. “He’s one of the friendliest people you’ll ever meet,” she rambled on.

  Beside her, Lucy noticed Brian smile, and she smiled too, though probably for a different reason than Brian did. She was enjoying the way Eliza could talk about
anything and make it sound interesting. She’d never come across anyone as engaging as Eliza before. Eliza had a way of putting people at ease and making them feel as if they were important.

  They stopped at Old Willy’s place, and Eliza knocked on the door. A woman holding a one-year-old child on her hip opened the door. “Good morning, Daphne,” Eliza said and leaned forward to ruffle the little boy’s hair. “My goodness, every time I see you, you get bigger. I hardly even recognized you.”

  “Yes, well, he’s been getting into everything.” Daphne laughed and bounced the baby on her hip.

  Eliza straightened back up. “Daphne, Brian married Lucy yesterday. Lucy’s from Minnesota.”

  “Oh yes. I heard we had a new person in town,” Daphne said. “How are you, Lucy?”

  “Fine,” Lucy quietly replied, surprised by the commotion going on inside the house. If she counted right, four children ran around the kitchen to get things ready for an early lunch.

  “Did you come to talk to Willy about some paint?” Daphne asked, reaching up and stopping her child before he could pull her hair.

  “Actually, we did,” Eliza said. “Is he around?”

  “He’s out back in the shed. You can go on to the backyard if you wish. It’d be easier than coming through the house.” Daphne glanced over her shoulder and sighed as one of her children screamed. “Rachel, let Bob put that dish on the table.”

  “But he keeps picking it back up,” Rachel complained.

  “Let him do that. It won’t kill anyone.” Daphne looked back at the visitors. “It’s like this all the time. After awhile, you don’t even notice all the noise.”

  Lucy wondered how that was possible but decided to take the woman’s word for it.

  “Well, you and Willy are doing a fine job of raising them,” Eliza said. “They’re well-behaved in public, and that’s where it counts the most. That way, you look good.”

  Daphne chuckled. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “We’ll go on back to the shed and see about that paint. Now, you be good to your mother,” Eliza told the children before leading the way to the shed.

  After they collected enough paint, they went to the mercantile where Lucy got to select the supplies she needed for making curtains and chose what she wanted to make for meals.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you to cook with me on occasion,” Eliza told her. “You’re picking some mighty fine things that I’d love to eat but can’t make well enough for it to be edible.”

  “I don’t mind,” Lucy replied. “To be honest, I’d like it.”

  “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

  She chuckled. “No. I mean it.”

  Eliza gave her a quick hug. “You know, ever since Brian got to be the age where he could court girls, I had this dream of being friends with the one he ended up marrying. Sometimes I don’t make it to town except once every month or two, especially in the winter. And as much as I enjoy John and Brian, it’s not the same as having another woman to talk to. I really like you, Lucy. I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine.”

  Blushing, Lucy said, “I agree.” Uncertain of what else to say, she turned back to the shelf in front of her and selected more items for her basket.

  When they finished shopping at the mercantile, John borrowed a horse from Frank and hooked it up to the buggy, and Eliza took the reins of the wagon so they could all go home. Though Lucy had plenty of room now on the seat, she sat close to Brian and held his hand.

  Chapter Eight

  Two weeks passed and the first thought that came to Lucy’s mind when she woke up was in a week, she would know if she was expecting Adam’s child or not. She didn’t want to think about it. Sometimes, during the day when things got busy, she was able to forget her worry and pretend the impending problem didn’t exist. Closing her eyes, she turned to Brian and snuggled up to him. His deep and even breathing notified her that he still slept, but that wasn’t anything new. More often than not, she woke before he did.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. Usually, she didn’t dare touch him anymore than that, but on this particular morning, she brought her arm around his waist. It was something she’d done with Adam during their brief time together. She couldn’t help but note the differences between the two men, and not just in the way they approached marriage.

  Adam’s chest was covered in dark hair, and his body had been thicker—not overweight but built stronger. Brian’s chest had hair, but it was finer and there was less of it. Brian was also leaner than Adam had been.

  Her fingers traced over Brian’s skin, slowly going from his side to the center of his chest, noting where the fine hairs began. He was softer than she expected. The mass of hairs formed a line that went to his belly button, and that’s where she stopped for it suddenly occurred to her that Brian was chuckling.

  “That tickles,” he said.

  “Sorry.”

  She pulled her hand away, but he caught it and brought it back around his waist. “I like it.” He rubbed her back. “Are you happy here?” he softly asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s peaceful and quiet.”

  “I notice you like those things the most.”

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Was it that way where you grew up?”

  “Not exactly, but I had my secret spot.”

  “Did you go there a lot?”

  “As often as I could.” Eager to change the subject, she said, “I think the paint’s made the house brighter and more cheerful.”

  He smiled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Lightly stroking his chest, she continued, “I’m sure you’d like it if you could see it.” It was only because his parents helped them paint the house that it got done as quickly as it did. “Your parents are nice. I think I’ll give your mother a break from cooking and invite them over here to eat.”

  “She’ll be glad for the excuse to skip cooking a meal. She never cared much for it but with me and Pa, she didn’t have a choice.”

  “The poor woman.” She chuckled. After a couple minutes of silence, she sat up. “I should get breakfast started. What would you like to eat?”

  “Anything you feel like making will be greatly appreciated.”

  She sighed but grinned as she stood and walked to the dress hanging in the closet. “You are a hard one to please, Mister Evans.”

  He smiled, sat up, and reached for the comb on the small table by his bed.

  Pausing, she watched him as he combed his hair. She liked to stop and watch him from time to time. The fact that he couldn’t see her staring in his direction gave her enough courage to do so. He was a good looking man. He managed to keep himself better groomed than some men she’d seen, but he had a cowlick that would pop up despite the care he took in combing his hair. One such cowlick insisted on lying at an awkward angle today. She looked away and grabbed her dress before she laughed. She thought it was cute, but he’d probably misread her laughter and assume she was finding amusement at his expense.

  Once she had the dress off the hook, she brought it over to the bed and gathered her folded undergarments from the top of the dresser. “I think I’ll make muffins this morning,” she said as she slipped out of her nightgown.

  “My mouth waters just thinking about it,” he replied and set the comb back on the table. He stood and walked to the dresser to take out his clothes for the day. “You’re spoiling me.”

  She chuckled and shrugged into her chemise. “I’m spoiling you by feeding you?”

  “I usually just have coffee for breakfast and wait for lunch to eat.”

  “That’s no way to start your day.”

  “Like I said: you’re spoiling me. Now I’ll get used to eating when I wake up.”

  While she put on two petticoats, she couldn’t help but peak over at him as he took off his nightclothes. It was a natural thing for a husband and wife to do—to watch each other get dressed and not think anything of it. But she hadn
’t had the nerve to watch him up to that point, and the thought of seeing him naked, even for a brief moment, made her pulse race.

  She wondered if he experienced a certain degree of shyness about being naked in front of her. He didn’t show any signs of it as he disrobed completely. He just set about to the task of pulling on a fresh pair of underwear before grabbing his pants.

  Her face flushed and she turned her attention to getting dressed. The male body intrigued her since it was so unlike her own. The problem was, she never got a good view of it to fully mark the differences between male and female. With Adam, everything had happened in dim lighting, and even if it hadn’t been dark, she would never have had the nerve to look. Perhaps if they’d been legally married for any length of time, she might have worked up the courage to look. Not that any of that mattered now.

  Once she fastened the last button on her dress, she headed out of the bedroom and went to fix breakfast.

  ***

  Lucy inserted the needle into the blue fabric for the curtain she was making and pulled the thread through. Glancing up at Eliza who arranged yellow flowers in the vase in the kitchen, she smiled. Eliza, she learned, enjoyed fussing over flowers. She pulled the needle through the curtain again. The sunlight came in through the window parlor and hit her legs, making them warm. It was very relaxing.

  Eliza finished with the flowers and picked up a tray holding a teapot and cups to bring to the parlor. “This is so exciting! I enjoyed tea when I was back in Omaha but rarely have a reason to drink it here.”

  “John and Brian won’t drink it?” Lucy asked, pulling her needle through again.

  “They humor me a couple times a year, but they prefer coffee.”

  “And Addy?”

  “From time to time, she’ll drink tea with me, but she also prefers coffee. You’re the first person I’ve met in this town who likes tea.”

  “I grew up drinking it. My mother was a mail-order bride whose parents came over to New York from England. She said they drink it all the time over there. When she came out to marry my father, she insisted that she still get her tea.”

  Eliza laughed and set the tray on the table in front of Lucy. “Now that’s a smart woman right there.”