Adelaide: Bride of Maryland (American Mail-Order Bride 7) Page 4

  Chapter Five

  Adelaide stood in the center of the bedroom, eyeing the bed covered with a simple quilt and fluffy pillows. A fireplace against the wall behind her smelled of soot, but the quilt smelled clean and fresh. It was a nice room, not ostentatious like the ones in her mother’s new house, or sparse with broken furniture like Mary and Samuel’s. It was a perfect combination of homey and rugged. A shirt lay over the back of a chair near a window draped with lace curtains. She lifted the man’s shirt, a hint of the outdoors mixed with leather flooded her senses, a manly aroma that did something to her insides.

  The door opened behind her and John entered. “I hope you’ll be comfortable in here until we're able to add on to the house. We’ve been living with it like this a little longer than I’d originally intended. I know it’s strange to have help under the same roof, but Stella and Billy are like family. Once we have a larger home, they’ll have their own space.”

  “I think it’s perfect,” Adelaide offered. Despite the fact he obviously didn't want a wife, John still cared about her comfort. He seemed to be everything the letter said he was. A kind man, he gave her no cause to worry.

  This was it, he was her husband. She had to submit to him in a way she’d never been able to submit to any man before. She’d have to try to curb her tongue and listen to what he had to say, instead of running off and doing what she wanted. “I know you were trapped into marrying me, but I hope I will be a good wife.” She took a steadying breath and placed her bag on the chair. Not sure how the wedding night was supposed to go, except for the scant details Mary gave her, she wanted to show her willingness to be a good wife. Afraid he’d see the scars on her neck, she turned down the flame in the lamp before she faced him. With trembling fingers, she undid the top button of her dress then another and another, until it fell open and she let it flow to the floor. Her body shivered and her heart raced, but she continued to undress.

  John stood there watching, his eyes transfixed on her every move. She reached for her ties of her underclothes, but he stepped forward and stayed her hand with his own. “No.”

  Her head felt light and her stomach twisted. “I thought… We are married. If I have done something wrong…”

  He pressed his forehead to hers and kept her hand clasped in his own. She felt something hardened in his lower region and it took her a moment to realize what. According to what Mary had told her, that was supposed to happen. But instead of proceeding with what she understood came next, he only breathed. Once, twice, three times.

  He stepped back and swallowed hard enough she could hear it. “I don’t require you to lay with me. One day, if you want to, then we will, but I will not take a woman who does not want me.” He turned on his heel and marched to the door. “Sleep here. This is your room now.”

  The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in a strange home. She wanted to wilt to the floor and cry. Had she made the wrong choice? Would she forever be a woman with no worth? Just a wife in name only? No, she’d refuse to be worthless.

  She paced the floor, her mind rolling over the last few weeks. Everything had happened so fast, too fast. Had she been as reckless about her future as her mother had accused her of being? Had he seen her scars and been repulsed by them? Dear God, what if she had married a man who would keep her hidden away so no one would ever see the monster he’d married?

  The moon was high in the sky by the time she pulled herself together and slid under the quilt on the bed. The chill in the air made her long for warmth. Yet as tired as she was from her travels and the stress that day had brought, her mind continued to race until she fell into a fitful sleep.

  When she awoke at dawn, she heard men and horses outside. Remaining out of sight, she stood by the window and listened as they discussed the plan for the day.

  “We need to get to work repairing the barn and corral.” John’s voice sounded muffled beyond the window, but the deep quality was distinctive.

  “I think it best we stay together in groups near Salter’s land," Billy advised. "At least for the next few days. There’s safety in numbers. We’ll go check the fences this morning and then return for the repair work this afternoon.”

  “Yes, I think you’re right,” John responded.

  She slipped back into her dress and combed her hair before heading out to the main room. Stella was washing dishes at the large basin in the kitchen, but turned and placed a plate of fruit and meat with bread on the table when she saw Adelaide. “It’s not much since Cook is off today, but it’ll fill your belly until next meal. I didn’t expect you up so early. I thought you city folk slept in.”

  She managed to eat a few bites of meat and bread before her nervousness got the better of her. “What can I do to help today?”

  “Oh, nothing, dear. You can just relax. I’m sure you’re tired after your long train ride. The men will be off checking fences for hours, and I’m just going to follow Cook’s directions for some simple stew. Why don’t you go take a walk around? I’m sure you’re curious about the homestead. Just don’t wander too far away. And don’t cross onto Salter’s land.”

  So, she really was useless. Not a wife, not a housekeeper, not even a cook. John had no need for any of them. She couldn’t even be a decoration, not with scars marring her neck. “Why did he marry me?” Adelaide asked. She had to know, or she wouldn’t be able to rest.

  “Ah, you must’ve heard the men teasing about him sleeping in the bunkhouse. Can’t say as it surprised me, though.”

  Adelaide forced her hands to stay at her side instead of twisting her hair around her neck to hide her scar. “I thought a man and women were supposed to be…together on their wedding night.”

  “Most weddings, sure, but this ain’t exactly typical. I mean, you don’t even know each other at all.”

  “That didn’t seem to make a difference to those other men, and I don’t think it would’ve made a difference to Salter.”

  “First off, Salter isn’t like most men. Count yourself blessed you didn’t marry him.”

  “I do. I’m just sorry John has to suffer for it. Why did he do this?”

  Stella placed her towel on the table and sat down beside Adelaide. “Oh, dear girl, it has nothing to do with you. I shouldn’t be telling you about this―we don’t speak about it here―but you’re his wife so you have a right to know. And Lord knows that boy ain’t never gonna talk about it with you.” Stella squeezed both Adelaide’s hands. “First off, he hates going into town because it reminds him too much of what happened there.”

  She held her breath, waiting. She hoped the story would shed some light on who John was, but at the same time, she was afraid to know more.

  “I’m gonna try to make a long story short here, so stay with me. John came from a poor family. His mother and father died when he was just a young thing and he did his best to care for his baby sister. The boy has always been strong. He managed to leave Kansas and make it to Texas where he worked driving cattle north to the train stations for transport east. On one of his trips, he met Salter and eventually found work on his ranch. The work was tough, but John's a smart boy and earned Mr. Salter’s respect quickly. He thought he’d finally found a stable place to put down roots, and he sent for his sister. Set her up with a family in town, not wanting her to be exposed to the men on Salter’s ranch. I think even back then he tried to protect her from Salter." Stella sighed. "While his sister was safe in town, John learned all about raising cattle and all the business stuff that goes with it. He’s always wanted to make enough money so he’d never have to let his sister face starvation again. He didn't want his sister or his future family to ever have to go through what he had as a child.

  "Unfortunately, the family in town he’d been sending money to, paying to care for his sister, decided to keep the money and sell her to Salter. Didn't take that animal long before he set her up as a saloon girl. Girl was barely in her teens. It wasn’t until one of the men told John about a woman he'd had at the saloon
with a scar on her left arm that he realized his sister was working there. He immediately went to get her out of there, but she knew it was already too late. She was ruined. There ain’t a man who would value her after what she’d done.”

  “What did he do?” Adelaide asked quietly.

  “He went back countless times, trying to convince her. Finally, the sheriff arrested him and rode him out to Salter’s ranch. A day later, his sister's body was found. She’d been beaten to death. Murderer got away, too.”

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” Adelaide’s heart ached for John.

  “That isn’t even the worst of it. Salter had been one of her regular clients. He’d basically bought her, paying the family more money than John had sent to care for her. That’s why she’d ended up in the saloon in the first place. Salter was her first client.”

  “What?” Adelaide couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re telling me that the man last night was the one who did all this to John?”

  “Yes.”

  Hatred liked Adelaide had never felt in her heart stung her chest.

  “You see," Stella continued, "that’s why he wasn’t with you last night. He never wants to be like Salter. He also never planned on marrying.”

  “Why?” Adelaide asked.

  “Because he never wanted to be responsible for someone again. He felt like he’d failed his sister. Despite Billy and me pushing him, I don’t think he would’ve ever married.”

  "Then why did he send that missive through the agency?"

  Stella gave her a sheepish look. "Well, ya see, that was Billy and me’s doing. We were trying to help him get over himself, but now it’s turned out like this."

  Adelaide bowed her head. “That’s my fault. I’ve allowed my own cowardice to trap a man into a life he didn’t want.”

  “Ha, I have a feeling you’re anything but a coward, deary. Besides, what people want and what they need is seldom the same thing.” Stella patted her hand and rose from the table.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Adelaide said.

  Stella went back to preparing her stew, so Adelaide headed out the door. “There has to be a purpose for me here,” she mumbled to herself. If she wasn’t a real wife to John, then there had to be something else she could do to earn her keep. Something she could do to help ease his burden and thank him for taking her in when he'd wanted nothing to do with her.

  The land that stretched out beyond the house looked vibrant in the sunlight. Animals of all types raced around―cows, horses, dogs, cats, mules, chickens, and all sorts of other little creatures―no doubt loving the freedom of so much space.

  She wandered over to the barn then around back to the corral. Some of the fence boards were split and weathered. It also appeared as if they were trying to expand the area, making the corral larger. Several holes were dug where posts would eventually go. Saws, planks of wood, and shovels lay on the ground abandoned.

  She scanned the area around the barn but saw no one. Had all the men, every last one of them, been needed to check the fencing along the border of Salter's property? It must be quite the undertaking, she thought as she pulled her hair back and tied it at the nape of her neck. Then she pulled up her sleeves and lifted one of the wood poles that had already been cut. It was heavy, but manageable. She’d lifted boxes at the factory on occasion, feeling it was unnecessary to ask for assistance when it was something she could do herself.

  She managed to drop the base of the post into the hole and kick enough dirt around it that it stood. Well, sort of. The dog she'd seen on the front porch joined her, dancing around barking before he found a stick and dropped it at her feet. She picked it up and threw it then retrieved the shovel. It took her five times longer than it would an able-bodied man, but she managed to pack the dirt around the pole tight enough that it stood solid and upright.

  As the sun rose into the sky, sweat dripped from her hairline, but she ignored it. This was something she could do, something to focus on besides just lying around feeling useless and drowning in thoughts of her failures. She'd fooled herself. No man would ever want her, not with the scars on her neck, so she best learn how to do more with her life.

  After hours of cutting new posts, placing them in the ground and packing dirt around them, her hands became sore and blistered. By the fifth pole, her hands began to bleed. When a bell sounded, she leaned against the back of the barn, spasms running up her back. How do they do this all day, every day? she wondered.

  The thump of horse hooves sounded, along with the shouts of men, warning of their approach. She brushed the dirt from her skirts and untied her hair. Her stomach roared with protest, so she stepped away from the barn toward the house. She should have eaten more. The dog returned for the umpteenth time, but she didn’t have the energy to bend down and pick up the stick. “Maybe later, boy,” she said as he continued barking at her.

  She rounded the barn and ran into a strong chest, sending her stumbling backward. Hands gripped her arms to keep her upright.

  “Adelaide?" John’s voice soothed her weary body. “Are you okay?”

  She straightened as tall as she could managed and wrenched from his arms. “I’m fine. Did you have a good morning?” With her chin high, she nudged past him, but he grabbed her arms and held her against the side of the barn.

  “What happened to you?” He brushed the hair from her face and scanned her body. “Did someone hurt you? Why are you so dirty and sweaty? Oh my Lord, what happened to your hands?”

  She looked down to realize the blisters covering her palms were bleeding. Clenching them into fists to hide the evidence, she bit back a wince of pain. “Nothing.”

  John looked around then spotted the new poles she'd installed around the corral. “You did that? Why would you do that? You hurt yourself.”

  She pulled free, anger, and resentment at his words making her want to smack him. Not sure why she felt that way, but she wasn’t going to take his reprimand for her hard work. “I have to be good for something around here, don't I? If you don’t want me in your bed, I’m going to have to earn my keep some other way.” She shoved past him to find all the men standing at the front of the barn. Heat flooded her cheeks and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, but she kept her head high and marched past them. Maybe they could appreciate her help, even if their boss couldn’t.

  Every step she took threatened to make her fall flat on her face from exhaustion, but she wouldn’t allow it, not until she was out of sight from the men. Especially from John Rivers.

  She marched up the front steps of the house, into the bedroom, slammed the door then collapsed onto the wooden floor. Her legs shook, her hands burned, her back ached, and her soul cried, cried for her failure as a daughter and now as a wife.

  She stifled her tears, unwilling to let the men hear her weakness. “No, I’m not going to crumble,” she mumbled. Willing herself to stand, she wiped her tears away.

  The door creaked open behind her and she grabbed the bedpost for support, but winced in pain. The door clicked shut and hands slipped under her knees, tipping her back until she was staring up at John’s face.

  “No, I don’t need your help. I’m fine,” Adelaide protested.

  “Stop being so stubborn, and I’ll stop being such a donkey’s ass.”

  His words caught her off guard and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m not allowing you to take all the blame in this. And I’m certainly not going to allow my wife to kill herself out there. Now, sit down and be quiet while I look at your hands.”

  Adelaide opened her mouth, but he gently set her onto the bed and held one finger to her lips. “You had your say. I heard it, and all my men heard it. I think it’s my turn. Now, stay put for a minute and don’t move from this bed. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared then returned with a ceramic bowl full of water and some rags. “Stella, I’ll take my lunch in here,” he called back over his shoulder. “And make a plate for Adelaide, too, please.”
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  With a solemn look on his face, he placed the water bowl on the side table and sat by her side. “I owe you an apology, and if I don’t give it to you, I’m too scared to face Stella out there.” He smiled, a gruff but handsome smile. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t a good wife.”

  She held her hands out for him to treat. “I know you didn’t want to get married, so I won’t expect you to be a husband to me, but I will find a place here.”

  He sighed. “Stella’s right, I don’t know how to talk to women.” He slid a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I honestly didn’t want to make you uncomfortable last night. You did nothing wrong. Listen, we don’t know each other, but I’d like to change that.” He wrung out a rag in the water and examined the palm of her hand. “I’ve never seen a woman do that before.”

  “Do what?” Adelaide dared to look at him, really look at him in the light. He was even more handsome than she’d first thought. His full dark hair curled at the edges around his forehead and neck. His dark brown eyes were haloed by black, thick lashes and high cheekbones.

  “All that work. Did you not take any breaks?” he asked, a hint of pride in his tone.

  A warmth covered her and she sat a little taller despite the twinge in her middle back. “No, I worked from the time you left until you returned.”

  He shook his head. “As I said, never known a woman to do that kind of work. Stella’s right, you're tough. What did you do before you came here?”

  A knock at the door saved her from having to explain about fleeing from the man she was promised to. And working in the factory to support herself. Would he judge her for abandoning an obligation?

  He glanced at the unopened door. “Come in.”

  Stella entered with two bowls in hand, followed by Billy with two mugs. She paused at the bedside. “Ouch. You want me to clean those up for ya?”