Mail Order Runaway Read online

  It almost seemed like she didn’t care to talk about her family—or her life back in Boston—at all. He found it odd, since so much of her letters revolved around her work, her family, and her best friend, Elinor. Ever since she had arrived, her conversation focused primarily on their wedding plans, his farm, and their life together.

  Of course it has, his conscience prodded. She’s a woman! Women spent most of their growing-up years thinking about boys and marriage and the future. While you can’t stop thinking about the wedding night, she’d probably dreamed about every detail of the wedding and your life together. Stop judging the poor girl by your own masculine standards.

  What did it matter, anyway? Maybe as time went on, she’d talk more about her life back East. And if she didn’t, that was her prerogative—she might have her reasons for focusing more on the future than on the past. In time, she’d probably share that with him. It was only fair to give her time to adjust to married life, and to living intimately with a man who was, essentially, a stranger to her.

  All that mattered was he had a winsome, amiable wife—a woman he considered himself unbelievably lucky to have—sitting by his side. It was all a man like him could really ask for.

  “Adelaide…I know it’s still early…it’s not even time to milk the cow yet…but I just can’t help it. I’d really like to be alone with you.”

  She sat up and looked at him. He waited for a shocked response, or reluctance, but it didn’t come. “What about supper? I know we ate late, but shouldn’t I prepare something for us to have before we go to bed? And what about the animals—and milking the cow, as you said?” Her expression was one of confusion more than reluctance.

  “We could just…spend some time alone together…then I could take care of the animals, and you could whip us up a little something before bed. Eating dinner so late, I doubt either of us will want a full supper. I just…really want to be with you.”

  The confusion melted away, replaced by a shy smile. She blushed, averting her eyes. “Oh.” She peeked up at him through her thick lashes, and his heart beat faster.

  His beautiful bride was already worming her way into his heart, with every smile. It wasn’t just that she was attractive—Heaven knew the woman could make any man’s heart do back-flips—she was so much more. She stirred feelings that he never thought he’d have for a woman. He’d thought marrying a mail order bride would be nothing but an arrangement of convenience, but it was shaping up to be so much more.

  He took her hand and helped her up, and they walked inside together—into his house, which had already become their home.

  Chapter 13

  Tuesday, September 2, 1890

  Elinor washed up the last of the dishes. It was easy to find her way around Gideon’s kitchen, because he was a neat and orderly man, and had put things in the most sensible places. It was not unlike the way Mrs. McGilvray had organized her own kitchen—except that the McGilvray clan had far more dishes and cookware than one could shake a stick at.

  She was in high spirits. Not only had she spent a glorious evening with her husband the night before—who, she had discovered, was very patient, gentle, and passionate, much to her delight—but she had awoken in his arms, feeling very content indeed. And to top off the sublime morning, she had managed to make a decent breakfast. The abundance of eggs had made the choice simple—bacon and eggs. She’d helped make it at the McGilvray house when she’d stayed overnight on occasion, and it was Addie’s turn to cook breakfast. The bacon had come out a little dark, but not quite burned, and though the eggs were a little rubbery, they didn’t taste too bad.

  Their quick meal the evening before had been the last bit of the leftover barley soup, the crusty bread, and some cheese. It turned out that they’d been hungrier than they thought. Apparently they’d “worked up an appetite,” as Gideon had joked. Elinor shocked herself with the thought, and she could feel the color rising in her cheeks.

  “Thank you for breakfast,” Gideon whispered in her ear as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.

  That only made her blush all the more. “Did you like it?”

  There was a pause. “I always enjoy eggs. I wouldn’t have chickens if I didn’t.” He kissed her quick, on the cheek, then pulled away.

  She frowned, then turned to look at him. He’d already turned away, to grab his hat from the peg on the wall. “That’s not the same thing as enjoying my eggs.” She knew she was asking for trouble—he hadn’t seemed to hate the meal, so why force the issue? But she couldn’t help herself.

  He put his hat on and pulled the brim down, obscuring most of his face. “The eggs were just fine. Now I’d better get to working on the chores.”

  “Gideon Cartwright,” Elinor put her hands on her hips, still dripping from washing the dishes. “You tell me the truth—you didn’t like them, did you?”

  He sighed, pushed his hat back, and looked her in the eyes. “They were fine, as I said. I didn’t lie.”

  “But…?”

  He sighed again, looked out the window, as if he wished he could escape. “They weren’t bad, I swear. But…I guess…I thought they’d be…better than fine.”

  His soul-crushing words reverberated in her ears. After all her hard work, she wanted to be angry. But how could she be? He was expecting excellent cooking from a girl who had grown up cooking and cleaning for a large family. Mrs. McGilvray had been a fine cook, and Addie was almost as adept, from the few meals Elinor had sampled.

  Elinor turned away and sighed, looking out the window. Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything—” Gideon apologized.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Elinor murmured, trying not to sound like she was crying. “You didn’t make the eggs, I did. And I asked for your opinion. You were being honest, and that’s nothing to apologize for.”

  “They really were fine, there was nothing wrong with them—”

  “Yes there was. They were rubbery, and the bacon was burned.”

  “Not burned, so much as…dark. But bacon isn’t bad when it’s dark…just…crispier.” He came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to turn and look at him. “Listen, you’ve had a long journey, you’re in a new kitchen, and you haven’t cooked a meal in a few weeks, at least. I’m sure you’re just getting used to things. I’m sure over the next week or so, you’ll find your footing, and you’ll be back to making those tasty meals that you told me your Ma taught you.”

  She stepped into his arms and accepted his comfort, though that just made her feel even guiltier. The poor man deserved a superb cook. She’d just have to try even harder. The problem was, the eggs were probably the thing she knew how to cook best. She didn’t remember all that much from what she’d learned watching Addie and Mrs. McGilvray cook, and her own mother wasn’t the best cook even back before they had servants. And she certainly hadn’t put up with Elinor’s questions about cooking, or anything else, for that matter. The only thing worse than the drudgery of housework, in Mrs. Travers’ eyes, was having to be patient and teach a child how to do it.

  I’ll just have to get to the library as soon as possible, she thought, and get myself some handy receipt books. She wondered if she could sneak in a book that would teach her the basics of cooking, without Gideon seeing it.

  “Why don’t you take your mind off the cooking by working on something that makes you happy?” he asked, and kissed the top of her head. “Try out your present! That new sewing machine comes with an instruction booklet and all the attachments you need in a little tin, inside one of the drawers. You could make whatever you want—an apron, curtains, anything you like. Actually, curtains would be much appreciated—Nina took the curtains with her when she married. Said she made ‘em, so she could take ‘em.”

  Elinor said nothing. There was no chance she could figure out how to sew by herself, much less use a newfangled machine.

  “
Did you pack your sewing kit?” He asked, pulling away to look at her.

  “I—”

  “Because if you didn’t have room for it, that’s no trouble. I thought that you might not have the space to bring a full sewing kit, so I bought a box with seven different colors of thread in it, plus some other sewing necessities. I figured you’d be eager to try it out right away. I don’t know if it contains everything you’ll need, but it should have the basics, according to Mrs. Sanders at the mercantile—who, I might add, doesn’t know I ordered the sewing machine through the Montgomery Ward catalog. So make sure you don’t mention having a new machine, when she’s around.”

  “I won’t mention it,” she said. “But I…I don’t have any fabric to work with. I’ll have to get some the next time we go into town.”

  “We can go today, if you need to. I don’t mind, if it makes you happy.”

  “No, you’ve been into town so many times this week. I think right now I would rather go out to the barn with you, and watch you do your chores, while I get to know all the animals.”

  He laughed. “Why do I get the feeling getting you to tear yourself away from the animals is going to be a chore in itself?”

  “Because,” she giggled, “it probably will be.”

  They walked outside hand in hand, and were almost to the barn when they heard a wagon approach. Turning toward the road, Elinor could see a couple in a wagon.

  “It’s the Pruetts,” said Gideon. “You remember them, don’t you? You met them at the reception.”

  “I think so.” She shielded her eyes from the morning sun and squinted. “Yes, I think I met them briefly. I met so many people yesterday.”

  “Orville and his wife, Constance, are great people. Couldn’t ask for better neighbors. He has helped me out in a pinch more than once, and I’ve tried to return the favor. Constance is a very friendly sort, and she’s a fantastic baker, as well as an excellent seamstress, from Nina said. You too should get along just fine.”

  Elinor felt her heart sink into her shoes. A fantastic baker? An excellent seamstress? She may have been able to hide her faults as a homemaker from Gideon so far, but how could she possibly hide them from a woman who had a reputation for excelling at those very skills?

  The wagon pulled up to the house, and Gideon dropped Elinor’s hand.

  “Hello there,” called Gideon with a wave. “What brings you folks out today?”

  Orville set the brake, and tipped his hat back. “Excuse us, for disturbing you folks, especially only a day after your wedding, but Constance here just wouldn’t leave me alone unless I stopped by to say hello.”

  “I saw that you left your Bible at church yesterday, Adelaide,” said Constance. “I picked it up and figured I’d bring it over to you as soon as I could. I know I read mine every night before bed, and I’d hate to be without it.”

  “I told her it could keep, but she insisted you might want it. Even though I think it was just an excuse to come socialize. I told her you too would want time alone together.”

  “I know that,” she chastised her husband. “I told you we wouldn’t stay.”

  “Oh, but won’t you?” Elinor gestured for the house. “I could make us some tea.” She knew Gideon would expect her to invite the woman in. Perhaps if she steered the conversation away from housekeeping skills, she could enjoy the visit.

  Constance glanced at her husband. “Oh, we shouldn't. We don’t want to be a bother.”

  “Tell you what,” said Gideon. “Why don’t Orville and I go take a look at my hay, while you ladies have a cup of tea? There’s no rush to get my chores started today. I already milked the cow while Adelaide made breakfast. The rest can keep. What do you say, Orville? You said you were planning on coming to get a few tons, didn’t you?

  “Well, I sort of was hoping to get a look at that hay of yours. That blasted neighbor of mine doesn’t rotate his own cattle in his pastures properly, so they keep busting through to get to my fresh grass. Since I grow mostly wheat, I’ll need every single square foot of hay from my southern field to keep my cows fed if this winter turns out to be nasty. But at this rate, I’ll be lucky if I’ll have enough hay stored to get my cows halfway through winter.”

  “Really,” interrupted Constance, “I honestly didn’t want to disturb you…just to bring the Bible.”

  “Aw, don’t worry about that. We were just heading out to say hello to the animals. Elinor is very fond of them. I told her I am worried she married me for my animals, and not my good looks.”

  “Ha! Who told you that you have good looks?” Orville chuckled and hopped down from the wagon. “Now let’s see that alfalfa of yours. I expect it’s a fair crop, seeing how well it was growing back in July.”

  “It’s superb. Best yet, if you ask me. And don’t worry, I keep my stack topped off proper, so it sheds the rain fine. Most all but the top and sides will be dry as you need it. In fact, we haven’t had much rain since cutting, so I’ll bet it’s all dry.”

  The two men walked toward the enormous two-story rectangular stack of hay past the barn.

  Constance had already climbed down from the wagon and was following Elinor into the house.

  “Black tea, or herbal tea?” Elinor asked as they walked toward the kitchen.

  “Do you have peppermint tea?”

  “I think I saw some.”

  “I’ll have peppermint, then. My stomach is a little unsettled from the wagon ride.”

  Elinor fetched teacups and put the tea kettle on the woodstove.

  “It was so nice to meet you yesterday,” said Constance. “I wish we could have talked longer, but it looked like everyone wanted a bit of your time.”

  “Yes, it was confusing. I’m sure I won’t remember half the names I learned.”

  “That’s understandable. It’s a whole new state and a lot of new faces. It’ll all become familiar soon enough.”

  “Will you want honey or sugar?”

  “I think sugar goes better with peppermint.”

  “I agree, but I’m having chamomile, so I’ll have honey.”

  “Does Gideon collect his own honey? I know he’s talked before about getting his own hive.”

  “You know, I don’t think so, because this is store bought. But I’ve read a bit about beekeeping—it’s intriguing.”

  “You should consider it,” said Constance. “Once we got our five, our production went up threefold, especially in our kitchen garden.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Elinor. “I know bees can be quite a boon to a gardener.”

  They chatted amiably about Constance’s kitchen garden, while Elinor prepared the tea, and set the steaming cups on the table, along with the sugar bowl and little honey pot.

  “So I hear you like to sew. Gideon told us you make all your own clothes. I have to admit, I’m jealous. My sewing can’t hold a candle to yours.” Constance gestured to Elinor’s day dress which, though plainer than most of her dresses back home, was too fine for housework. “In fact, if I didn’t know you’d sewn it, I’d have sworn it was made by a professional seamstress.”

  Elinor froze, nearly gagging on her first sip of tea. The woman was perceptive, as she had feared.

  “Then again,” Constance laughed, “I suppose you are a professional, since you worked in a shirtwaist factory. I was thinking—would you like to join our sewing circle? I’m sure Reverend Yates’ wife would love to have you—she hosts one at her home, once a month.”

  Elinor’s hands shook, jittering the china cup against its saucer. “I…that sounds fun, but…”

  “What’s wrong?” Constance frowned, setting her teacup onto the saucer. “Was it something I said?”

  Yes, far too perceptive. “It’s just that…” She glanced toward the door. Elinor took a deep breath. She could keep on lying, or she could fix things so that she wouldn’t need to lie. “If I tell you something, will you keep it between us?”

  “Sure,” Constance replied, “as long as it
’s not something that I feel I need to tell my husband. If it’s just women-talk, I don’t see any reason to share it.”

  “Well… I may have…exaggerated a bit in my letters to Gideon. I liked him so much, and I thought we were such an admirable match, that I didn’t want to disappoint him in any way and risk him choosing someone else.”

  Constance raised her eyebrows. “What exactly did you exaggerate about?”

  “I…I may have told him that, that I am an expert seamstress. And I’m not.”

  “You exaggerated your sewing skills?”

  “Actually, perhaps more than exaggerated.” Tears stung her eyes.

  “You didn’t make that dress, did you?”

  She shook her head miserably.

  “Adelaide, do you even know how to sew?”

  She looked away, embarrassed. “I know a little bit. Just what I learned as a girl. But it’s been a very long time, and I’ve forgotten most of what I learned.” Elinor could feel herself blush to her toes. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest, waiting for Constance’s response.

  “Oh my,” Constance breathed. “That is quite a dilemma you’ve gotten yourself into, my dear.”

  “I know,” Elinor sighed, sitting back in her chair. “I don’t know how I could let all this happen. I…I just knew he was the one and I… wanted him to think I would be a good wife. Not just a good wife, but a good farm wife. What farm wife can’t sew?”

  “You’re not the first girl to walk unprepared into a marriage, and you won’t be the last. I’d be happy to give you a few lessons, if you’d like.”

  “Oh, could you?” Elinor clasped her hands together like a little girl. “I would be ever so much in your debt.”

  “Of course! What are neighbors for?”

  “I hate to trouble you—I wouldn’t even ask if I weren’t so afraid of disappointing Gideon. He deserves the best wife possible.”

  “I daresay you’re right, he’s a fine man. But you didn’t ask—I offered, so don’t even torture yourself over it. Why don’t I come over here right after the dinner hour, on Monday?”