A Bride in Store (7 page)

“You should’ve come home last night for dinner.” Irena didn’t look at her. She likely disapproved of her being out so late but kept her opinions to herself. A good trait for someone running a boardinghouse.

But Eliza had nothing to be ashamed of. She sat and grabbed a muffin. “I didn’t want to leave the store until the displays were just right, and then I had to clean up.”

“Was William helping you?” A faint hint of censure colored her voice.

“He left to look for Axel around three. That’s another reason I stayed late. I wanted to be there when Axel returned.” She picked the nuts off the top of her muffin. “But William didn’t find him.”

Irena only hummed, as if she’d expected that answer.

Was no one else concerned about her missing fiancé? Why was William the only one trying to locate him? What if Axel was dead?

Her hostess finished setting the table and said a brief word of prayer, but didn’t mention Axel’s disappearance to the Lord.

Eliza took a bite, but even the sugary muffin wasn’t sweet enough to make her feel better. Did Mrs. Lightfoot know anything about her future husband?

Irena leaned over the table, letting her scarf swing forward so she could get a forkful of eggs to her mouth.

“This may be rude of me, but why don’t you remove your scarf to eat?”

Irena held up a finger, probably indicating she hadn’t finished chewing. “I’ve found it easier for my guests.”

“But not easier for you.”

“Well, no.” She chuckled. “However, my job is to make you comfortable.”

“Does it bother you if people stare?”

“Oh no, honey. I used to accept money so people could stare at me. I’m quite over that.”

“Then, if you don’t mind my saying so, I’m uncomfortable staying with you for nothing yet physically inconveniencing you. If you’d like to take off your scarf, I’d probably stare for a bit. I’ve never seen a bearded lady, but I’m sure the oddity will wear off and then I’ll think nothing of it.”

“Well, that was honest.” Irena laughed. “I’ll tell you what, as long as you stay honest, I’ll take the scarf off. If you find you can’t get past the distraction, let me know. I’d much rather have company than eat with ease.”

“All right.” Eliza touched the bandage swathing her whole head for a two-inch gash. She hadn’t taken it off because the stitches looked even worse. “I do believe I’ve been given a taste of what you must feel. I get lots of second glances as I walk down the road. Makes you sensitive to the rest of your appearance—though I’ve never been one to care about fashion and the like.”

Irena fiddled with her scarf’s knot tucked behind a pile of salt-and-pepper curls. “You do dress rather . . . dowdy.”

“I don’t think anyone’s come right out and said that to me before.”

“I figure if
you’re
going to be forthright, I’d make this a completely honest relationship.” She finished untying her scarf but didn’t drop it. “Ready to commence staring?”

Eliza cupped her hands under her chin like a child eager to see something spectacular. “Ready.” She winked.

Irena wound her scarf around her hand but cut eye contact. Her beard was grayer than her hair, close-cropped and neat, yet sparse.

“My former fiancé cut his beard much like that, but my brother lets his grow scraggly. Half the time his mustache hangs in his mouth.” Eliza shuddered. “Yours looks so much better.”

Irena looked up and swallowed hard. “Thanks, I guess.”

Eliza shrugged and picked up her fork to spear some eggs. “So if we can be honest with each other, and I ask a question, can I expect a truthful answer?”

Irena laced her fingers atop the table. “I believe I’m about to regret this honesty thing already, but at my age, I’m afflicted with tell-the-truth disease anyway. You young’uns need lots of help, though you hardly listen.”

“I do want advice though.” She set her silverware down. “Why do I get the impression something is wrong with Axel?”

Irena scratched at a sideburn. “In what way?”

“No one’s worried or surprised that he’s disappeared.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know Axel personally.” She rubbed her nose. “I’ve heard a bit about him, but I avoid believing or spreading prattle. The gossips will tell you I turn into a wolf at night or that I became this way by consorting with the devil.” She gave a weak smile. “You’ve written to him and talked with William, so you know more than I do from better sources, and nothing I’ve heard has been too alarming.”

Eliza frowned but let the topic drop. She’d not push Irena to gossip just for honesty’s sake.

Yet if Irena had heard positive hearsay, she wouldn’t have evaded the question.

Eliza walked into the Hampden Mercantile even though she was rather late for work. The muffins she’d consumed—and she’d eaten
quite a few after Irena refused to divulge anything about Axel’s reputation—rolled around like lead shot in her gut.

She was crazy, just like Ruth had said, except her friend back home had only worried Axel would be gap-toothed and pockmarked. Not some irresponsible wastrel who flitted in and out of town without breathing a word to anyone.

A gap-toothed man, if responsible, would be the better option.

Surely a convenient marriage couldn’t be worse than choosing from the Pennsylvanian men who’d come courting after her fiancé jilted her. But none of those had any interest in her business ideas, and Axel had. He’d promised her a store, offered her exactly what she’d wanted her whole life.

Yet what if the man was something worse than ugly?

She stopped midstride. What if he didn’t return because he’d died? She would be stranded in Salt Flatts with no store and no husband.

Kathleen walked out of the back room with a stack of bolted fabrics.

“Here, let me help you.” Eliza rushed over to take several bolts off the top.

“Thanks.” Kathleen smiled but then frowned when Eliza pulled off the rest. “Just because I’m in a family way doesn’t mean I can’t handle the inventory.”

Eliza gave her friend’s overly large abdomen a pointed glare. “No need to tax yourself.”

“You’re as bad as Carl.”

“Then at least Mr. Hampden’s got his head on straight.”

Kathleen pshawed. “Acting like an invalid won’t get things done around here.” Her waddling steps made the boards creak beneath her. “Say, what are you doing here anyway? It’s past nine.”

Eliza dropped the bolts onto the fabric table and began to place them with like colors, keeping her gaze on her sorting task. “I had a talk with Mrs. Lightfoot about . . . Axel, and well, I didn’t get
any real answers and thought maybe you might have some, but then . . .” She looked up and scanned the store’s few customers. “Maybe I should come back later.”

Kathleen leaned heavily upon the table. “Well, if you’re wanting to ease my burden, what better way to make Carl do everything than keep me busy talking?” She smiled mischievously, but Eliza couldn’t smile back.

“Do you think I could find a job in Salt Flatts if I don’t . . . end up marrying?”

Kathleen’s face sobered. “I don’t know. You already think you’re incompatible? How long has Axel been back in town?”

“He’s still not here.” She picked at some loose threads on a bolt of gingham.

“Then how can you be certain—”

“Surely if anyone in this town could understand how hard it is to marry someone you’ve never met, it’s you.” She leaned closer and whispered. “William mentioned you were a mail-order bride like me.”

Kathleen grinned. “No need to whisper. There’s more than one woman in this town who’s come that way. And not many ended up with who they were intended for.”

“They didn’t?”

“No. Let’s see. . . . Me, of course, and well, the man I jilted, Everett Cline, was jilted by more than me. I think maybe three? Perhaps more. Kind of a town joke.”

“Three? Poor man.” How sad to be rejected so many times by desperate strangers.

“Ah, but he got one that stuck.” She smiled. “And I think Axel’s mother was a mail-order bride too, or tried to be—wanted to marry William’s pa.”

“So I’d not be the only one to jilt a man who brought me here through a mail-order bride service?” The heaviness clotting her breath broke up, allowing her lungs to draw in more air than she’d managed all morning.

“No, but why would you? I thought you wanted a store. No other single men around here own one. Well, except for William, but it’s more Axel’s store than his.”

Then there was William. She’d known he’d held an interest in the store, but how much sway did he truly have? He didn’t want to move the counter, didn’t greet the customers, created sales off the cuff . . .

If she married Axel, would William treat her as if she held half of Axel’s percent? Or would he fight her every suggestion, just as he did now? Was Axel the kind of man to back up his new wife over his childhood friend if they disagreed? It wasn’t as if she had won Axel’s affection—their marriage was a business deal.

Eliza looked out the mercantile’s front windows, watching the town’s busy street. “William mentioned the day I arrived he’d been jilted too.” With everyone jilting everyone else, maybe she should be less worried about deciding whether or not to jilt Axel, but whether or not she could keep him from jilting her.

“William?” Kathleen frowned for a second, then shook her head. “Oh yes, Nancy Graves. For a second I thought you meant a mail-order bride had jilted him.”

A desperate woman like herself was surely beneath the notice of a man as handsome as William. He’d never have to consider marrying a stranger. At medical school, he’d likely find plenty of attractive city girls interested in courting. Though why
had
he been jilted?

“Why did this Miss Graves leave him? I mean . . . unless he has some terrible dark side I don’t see, what reason would his fiancée have had to call it off?”

“No dark side.” Kathleen repositioned herself with a groan. “Couldn’t make up his mind about going to school quick enough for her taste. She really wanted children, if I recall correctly, and married a widower with a slew of them.”

“She must not have loved William very much then.”

“I think that’s what hurt him the most. They were together since they were young’uns.”

“So why doesn’t he go to school? Is it just because he hasn’t enough money?”

“I’m sure that’s part of it, but three years ago, when his mother gave birth to his twin sisters, they came too early and William was the only one there.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her stomach for a moment and made a little hissing sound. “Something went wrong. He saved his mother, but lost one baby, and the other has . . . problems.”

“That’s awful.” She bit her lip. Talking about babies being born early and having problems was likely not the best conversation to have with Kathleen at the moment. “Though I’d think that would make him more eager to learn what to do in an emergency.” Would he be able to help Kathleen if she and the baby were in crisis?

“He blames himself for not riding off for the doctor—which he refuses to acknowledge would have been the worse choice. He couldn’t have known how bad it was going to be. But then Dr. Forsythe had the audacity to tell him if he’d taken a few minutes to make sure the babies were breathing well before helping his mother, the girls could have been fine.”

How terrible to feel responsible for a sibling’s death. “Why would the man say such an unkind thing?”

“That’s Dr. Forsythe for you—facts and statistics, no compassion. Told William what page in his book to read about what was wrong with his little sister and that nothing could be done. William blames himself for not having known.”

“Yet he still doctors against his will.”

Kathleen gave her a half smile. “Because, unlike Dr. Forsythe, he cares.”

“And his fiancée left him while he grieved his mistakes?” At Kathleen’s nod, Eliza tried not to scowl. “This woman doesn’t live in town anymore, does she?”

“No, she moved away after she got married.”

Good, because she didn’t want to serve such a woman. Not that it was likely this Nancy person would visit the Men’s Emporium . . . where Eliza ought to be already. “So you don’t know anything about Axel’s character that would make you advise me not to marry him?”

Kathleen pulled at a loose thread at the end of a bolt. “I’m not going to say the young man has no flaws. Who doesn’t?”

She narrowed her eyes. Would Kathleen refuse to talk about Axel too? “What are his faults exactly?”

“Well, he was a rather smart-mouthed youth. My husband used to natter on about how the boy was more of a hindrance at barn raisings than a help. . . . But truth be told”—she leaned closer to Eliza—“I’m not sure my husband is good enough with a hammer to know.”

She straightened back up and shrugged. “When Axel got that inheritance after his grandfather died, he tried to put it to good use, buying some property and setting himself up with a store.

“He should’ve asked for advice, so I guess he’s a bit headstrong, but at least he didn’t throw the money away at a tavern or bet it all on some silly scheme. He tried, then realized he needed help, and begged William to join him. Then he realized that wasn’t enough, so he sought you out.”

“I guess no one can go through life without learning some lessons.” She certainly shouldn’t have mouthed off so badly to her brother about how he’d fail to run the store as well as she could. Oh, why had Father gone with convention and left all his property to his lazy son instead of her? She bit her lip. Because she’d been a silly girl, moonstruck by attention from a handsome man. A handsome, swindling man.