Winning The Mail-Order Bride. Lauri Robinson
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He thought that might be the saddest thing he’d ever heard. “It doesn’t take long,” he said. “And it’s worth it.”
Glancing down at the cup she held with both hands, she nodded before looking back up at him and smiling softly.
“Considering this will be your first full day in Oak Grove, I can’t think of a better way for you to start it.”
“I can’t either.” Her gaze shifted, straight ahead, to the center point where the earth met the sky.
A small hump of yellow had formed and was pushing the orange glow higher. They stood there, silently, sipping their coffee and watching as the yellow continued to rise and form a half circle that slowly grew into a majestic ball with a center so bright it looked white.
As happened every morning, yet still a miracle in itself, the sun soon rose completely above the ground, shooting its glorious rays in all directions. Then slowly, yet too fast to actually define precisely how or when, the sky in all directions turned a crystal clear blue. He’d seen many sunrises, but this one seemed to be the most beautiful one ever.
Hearing her sigh, Brett glanced her way. The full smile on her lips made his insides rise as gently as the sun just had.
“That was beautiful. Simply beautiful.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them to look directly at him. “Thank you.”
In all his years he’d never suddenly been struck with a want so strongly, but right now he wanted to pull her into his arms to hug her. And kiss her.
Not sure how to make those desires disappear, he took a step back and glanced toward her house. After clearing the lump from his throat, he said, “Those boys of yours will be hungry again this morning. Boys always are. They’ll want to start exploring Oak Grove too.”
“How do you know so much about boys?”
“Because I was one,” he said. “And I had several brothers. Seven actually. Four older and three younger.”
“Your poor mother—she must have had her hands full.”
“She did, but she also had a broom and wasn’t afraid to use it on any one of us.” Memories of home made him smile. “I guarantee none of us wanted to make her mad enough to use it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
He couldn’t stop a short bout of laughter. “You’ve only heard a part of it. You see, if any one of us got Ma mad enough to use the broom, that meant Pa would use the belt on us for making Ma so mad.”
“Oh, my.”
“For the most part, she didn’t use that broom for nothing but sweeping up the mud we hauled in on our boots, and Pa didn’t use that belt for anything but holding up his britches.”
“Learned early, did you?”
He winked one eye. “About the same time I learned to walk.”
Her giggle was soft, but the sparkle in her eyes said he hadn’t imagined it. He nodded toward the house. “You got two good boys in there, ma’am. Plenty to be proud of. Polite and well behaved.”
She nodded and started walking toward the house. “Thank you. I sincerely hope they behaved yesterday, and I apologize again for their arriving so unannounced. For myself too.”
“I won’t accept any apologizing. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
They rounded the house and she held up her cup while stopping near the steps. “Thank you for the coffee and the sunrise. You’ve made my—our arrival something we’ll never forget.”
Sensing there was more behind her words, things he shouldn’t press her on, Brett gestured toward the basket on the back stoop. “I gotta go see to my horses, but if you need something to go along with those eggs, feel free to take what you need from my kitchen. The door’s open.”
“The eggs are more than enough, Mr. Blackwell, thank you.” She then glanced at her cup, which was still half-full.
“The pot’s on the stove,” he said while turning about. “Help yourself to more coffee if you want.” Although he knew she wouldn’t help herself to more coffee or anything else, he wished she would. His heart was lighter this morning than it had been in a long time. A very long time. Because of her.
As he walked past his house, he set his cup on the porch rail and then headed over to feed his horses. It was during that time, while forking hay into the corral, that he realized the mercantile wouldn’t be open today. Most every business in town observed the Sabbath. The town had passed a special ordinance for a few to be open, mainly Rollie Austin’s hotel and eatery.
Brett set the pitchfork aside and then walked around the lean-to that held his forge. Wally Brown, who oversaw the feed store for the most part while Brett saw to the blacksmithing, usually gave the horses their grain, but not on Sundays. Besides working for him, Wally worked for the livery. He had living quarters in the barn loft over there and kept an eye on things overnight.
Brett unlocked the front door and, once inside, walked directly to the window that faced his house, and Fiona’s a short distance farther away. He’d watched the sun rise with many people over the years. Family. Men he worked with at home and on the railroad. Friends while hunting. Companions while traveling. Yet never once had he appreciated sharing one more than he had with her this morning. It wasn’t just because he’d had someone standing beside him. It was because it had been Fiona. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did.
If she was one of the women from Ohio the Betterment Committee had paid to come to Kansas, Fiona didn’t have to marry Josiah. She should have the opportunity to get to know all the men who’d contributed, including him.
Except he wasn’t in the running any longer, was he? Not if his mother sent him a bride. Maybe he should go see Teddy, have him send another telegram.
Turning away from the window, he crossed the space and sat down at his desk. His mother may not have gotten his first telegram yet. That was doubtful. One specifically for her would have been delivered minutes after it arrived.
There wasn’t a whole lot he could do about that, but he could talk to Josiah and find out exactly how Fiona had come to agree to marry him.
No longer caring if Josiah was up or not, Brett exited the building, locked the door and headed up the street.
A peaceful quiet filled the streets, and as he walked past, he noticed a sign in the hotel’s window that said the eatery was closed until after church this morning.
Josiah’s law office was two doors down from the hotel. Like many other business owners in town, Josiah lived in the quarters above his office. Even before he built his buildings, Brett had been thinking about the time when he’d have a family. Not wanting them to live above a feed store, he’d gone ahead and ordered enough lumber for a house as well as the feed store and blacksmith shop.
Brett walked past the law office door with Josiah’s name painted on it, turned the corner and then walked around to the back of the building, where he promptly knocked on the back door.
He knocked a second time before hearing movement inside the house, and then someone telling him to hold his horses.
It wasn’t his horses he was trying to hold on to. His temper was rising far quicker than normal.
Josiah pulled aside the curtain to peek through the glass before he opened the door. “What are you doing here at this time in the morning?” Josiah asked, pulling open the door.
“We need to talk,” Brett said, stepping over the threshold, forcing Josiah to step back in the process.
Straightening his vest, pulling it down over his thick waist once he’d caught his footing from jumping backward, Josiah asked, “About what?”
“Fiona Goldberg,” Brett said, shutting the door with a solid