“Can you get the eggs for me?” Angel asked. “The bowl in the pantry is empty.”
“Sure.”
“Better go put on shoes, though,” Angel said, turning back to the biscuits. Now, did she already put in the soda? Yes, she was sure she did. It was the salt she hadn’t put in yet.
Luke came back downstairs with his shoes and his twin brother. Chattering noisily, they grabbed the basket by the door and raced down the stairs to collect eggs from the hen house.
Since Matt and Mark had school, they wouldn’t be in any hurry to come downstairs. Before she was able to mix the biscuits she heard Julia-Rose yell, “Mama,” from her crib. As she rinsed her hands off, she caught the thud of Nate’s footsteps crossing the room to get the baby. She sighed with relief when she heard the sounds of Nate talking to Julia-Rose, and hopefully putting on a fresh diaper.
The biscuits baked in the oven as the boys returned with the eggs. So far, so good. She cut bacon from the slab and tossed it into the pan. Then she remembered the coffee. Filling the pot with water, she put it on the stove and dumped in coffee. Nate was just coming downstairs with Julia-Rose.
“Are the boys up yet?” She asked.
“Yes. I just woke them. They should be down in a minute.”
Nate was already dressed for the day. He got the baby settled in her chair, went to the stove and picked up the coffee pot.
“I’m sorry, it’s not ready yet,” Angel said. “I just put it on.”
“That’s okay.” He sat at the table, and opened the morning newspaper.
She washed the eggs off, and cracked a dozen into a bowl. After scrambling them, she remembered she needed to heat up a pan. She pulled open doors looking for the pan she saw Mrs. Darby use every morning.
“Need some help?” Nate regarded her over his newspaper as she opened and closed doors.
“No, I have everything under control.” She smiled brightly, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her apron. Finally she spotted the pan and put it on the stove. Just then the coffee boiled over, making a loud hissing sound. Nate jumped up and pulled it off the stove, as Julia-Rose started banging the table with a spoon.
“What’s burning?” Matt asked as he entered the kitchen.
“Oh goodness, the biscuits!” Angel grabbed a towel, opened the oven door, and took out the dark brown lumps.
The bacon sizzled, and splashed grease on her hand, making her jump. “Ouch.” She waved her hand around.
“You okay?” Nate asked starting to get up.
“It’s fine,” Angel bit back, licking the burn.
“Try putting cold water on it.”
Ignoring his suggestion, Angel dumped the eggs into the well-heated pan and stirred.
“Matt, go get the plates, and the butter from the pantry,” Nate said. “Luke, you and John go get forks.”
Angel pulled the pan with the partially done bacon off the stove. Then she grabbed her stirring spoon as the eggs started to brown on the bottom.
“Boy it stinks in here.” Mark said as he sat at the table.
Angel scraped the eggs onto a large plate, and put the limp bacon on top of them. She set the pan with the biscuits on the table and ran to the pantry to get the jam. Nate poured coffee in both their cups, black liquid swimming with coffee grinds.
They all sat down, and Nate offered a prayer.
They need a prayer to eat this mess.
Luke reached for a biscuit and tapped the table with the edge. “These are like rocks.”
“Never mind,” his father said. “Just take some eggs and eat your breakfast.”
She looked at the disaster on the table. The bacon wasn’t cooked, and the eggs dry, rubbery and brown. The biscuits, as Luke said, resembled rocks, and the coffee was full of grinds. Apparently sensing the tension in the air, the boys took what they could eat, and kept quiet.
Angel sat with her head bent, hands in her lap, and tried hard not to cry. Julia-Rose pounded the table with her biscuit. The burnt lump didn’t break.
“Bye, time for school,” Matt said as he jumped up and yanked on Mark’s sleeve.
Mark picked up his books. “Yeah, gotta go.”
Angel’s head jerked. “Wait, I made lunch for you.”
The boys reluctantly took the pails she handed them and raced out the door.
Angel sat again, her head resting on her elbows.
“Boys, why don’t you get your chores done?” Nate nodded to the twins.
“I’m still hungry, Papa,” John said.
“Here.” Nate took a couple biscuits, slathered jam on top, and handed them over. When each boy had a biscuit, they raced out the back door.
Nate peered at her just as two tears slid down her cheeks. He pushed his chair out from the table, and patting his leg, said, “Angel, come here.”
She swiped at her face, walked over to him and sat on his lap.
“Don’t worry about the breakfast, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re probably just out of practice, what with the traveling, and being laid up. It’s a new stove, and strange kitchen. It will be better by tomorrow.”
Angel put her face in her hands and wailed. “No. No. It will never be better. I’m not out of practice. I never did anything to be out of practice for.”
Nate frowned. “What do you mean?”
Still holding her hands over her face, she peeked through her fingers. “I can’t tell you.”
“Yes, you can tell me. What are you talking about?”
Angel figured it was better to get it over with. Obviously, the time she’d spent with Mrs. Darby didn’t do anything to make her into a wife. This was merely the first of a string of ruined meals she would produce. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head, looked Nate in the eye and said, “I’m not a real wife.”
“I know, but don’t worry, tonight I plan to take care of that.” He laughed softly as she squirmed.
“No.” She felt the heat rise in her face. “That’s not what I meant.”
She placed shaky fingers over her mouth as if to keep the words in. “I’m an imposter.”
Chapter 8
Nate raised a brow. “I’m not sure I know what you mean. Could you explain?”
She peeked at him from under lowered eyelashes. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re not Angel Hardwick Hale?” He grinned.
“Yes, I am, but I’m not a mail-order bride.” She wiped the sweat from her hands on her apron.
“Angel, you’re not making much sense. Now, tell me what the problem is. It’s getting late and I need to leave for work.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Oh Lord, this is not going to be easy.
“All right.” She chewed her lower lip. “This is the first meal I’ve ever cooked in my life.” When he didn’t react, except to raise his eyebrows a bit more, she continued. “I come from a wealthy family. I grew up with servants. I think I fell out of the bathtub because I never took a bath by myself in my whole life.”
His expression didn’t change, but his eyes grew darker. He nodded. “Go on.”
She squirmed, and wished he would say more than that. “My father owned the bank where he worked. When he got sick, he left his assistant in charge, and he did something illegal. Papa trusted him, and signed all the papers Mr. Reynolds brought him. After Papa died, missing deposits were discovered, and all of Papa’s money, even the money from the sale of our house, went to the bank.”
“Yes?” Nate dragged the word out.
“My stepmother, Sylvia, made arrangements to go live with her sister in Virginia, and she contacted the Mail Order Bride Agency, and put my name in so I would have a place to go.” The last part she whispered.
“What made your stepmother think you would go along with that plan?”
“She said there wasn’t any room for me at her sister’s house, and given the scandal surrounding my father, no man in our circle of friends would have me.”
Nate lifted her from his lap, and stood. He walked to the sink and leaned against it, his legs crossed at the ankles, his hands in his pockets. “Are you telling me you have no idea how to cook, clean, do laundry, take care of children, or anything else?”
“Yes, that’s right.” She wrung her hands. “I am so sorry my stepmother did this to you.”
He frowned. “What about the letters?”
“Sylvia wrote them. I didn’t know about any of this until the day before I left. She handed me the packet of letters you had sent, the same time she gave me the train tickets.”
Her stomach clenched as she waited for his anger to erupt. He looked at her with no expression for a minute, and then shook his head.
When he said nothing, she added, “I can try to get a job, and pay back the money you spent. I’m not quite sure what kind of a position I could get, but there must be someone in town who could use help, and then after I’ve paid you back, I’ll save for my stagecoach fare back to New York . . .”
Her voice drifted off as she stared at him, wiping the tears from her face. He stood perfectly still, making her wonder if her revelations had caused his mind to snap, and she should grab the baby and run.
Nate closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with a thumb and forefinger, as if the pain in his head was incredible.
“Are you mad?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure what I am right now. I just need time to think.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Since I have a family to support, I have to leave for work now. Get Luke and John to help you. They may not be strong enough to do much, but they know what has to be done.”
Staring at her for a moment, he leaned down and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Still shaking his head, he stooped to kiss Julia-Rose, then walked to the door.
“By the way.” He put his hat on, and reached for the doorknob. “Be sure to get an ‘okay’ from Dr. Penrose today.”
He hadn’t taken her up on the offer to find a job. And he didn’t order her out of the house, so with a sense of relief, she went to the pantry, and brought out the loaf of bread Mrs. Darby had made yesterday to go with today’s supper. She sliced off a piece, smeared it with jam and cut it into little pieces. Julia-Rose grabbed at one of the small squares before she could even put them on the table. Poor baby must have been starving.
Julia-Rose looked up at Angel with her baby smile and cooed, “Mama.”
“Yes, you’re right, little one.” Angel pushed the baby’s hair back off her forehead. “I am your Mama, and I
will
do this job.”
Now that her confession was out, a sense of peace descended, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It surprised her how much she wanted this to work. After only a week of her new life, the old one seemed somewhat frivolous. Shopping, parties, teas, and visiting made up her days. Evenings included musicales, concerts and balls. She hadn’t realized how tired she’d become of it all.
Even the men who’d pursued her were tiresome. Conversation was never serious, always light chatting, with the suggestion of naughtiness underlying the bantering. Friends who’d married grew tired of their mates rather quickly, and began to eye other men almost as soon as the requisite two children had arrived.
No doubt this life would be hard work, but the rewards just as great. If she took it slow, and gave herself time to learn everything. Mrs. Darby had given her a good start, and she’d catch on. In the meantime, things couldn’t possibly be any worse here than they were before she’d arrived. She hoped, anyway.
Nate rotated his shoulders as he sat behind the counter in his gun shop. He stared into space as he ran the conversation with Angel through his mind. She sure had him fooled. It had crossed his mind to wonder why she would have all those fancy dresses. And if he had been more observant, he would have guessed her hands were not those of someone used to hard work.
That she apologized for what her stepmother had done, and didn’t feel sorry for herself being thrown into this situation, said a lot about her character. Given her spirit and her willingness to try, this just might work. He groaned, thinking about all the burned meals and ruined clothes in his future.
Of course, her being a beauty, with a curvy woman’s figure to go with it, he may be able to overlook any deficiencies she might have. He chuckled, thinking how getting a glimpse of his wife’s body, during Dr. Penrose’s examination, changed his mind about wanting a plain woman.
He’d also had time to see her with his children. Julia-Rose, Matt and the twins were already taken with Angel. Mark remained a bit of a holdout, but seeing as how he had been Amy’s favorite, he had felt her death more than the rest of them, so that was to be expected. One thing he was certain of. Based on events so far, life with his new wife would not be dull.
After Angel had cleaned up from breakfast, which involved mostly throwing it away, she got out the list Mrs. Darby made for her and saw that today was major laundry, not the little bit she did every day to keep up.
She went out the back door and called John and Luke. They ran up the steps, giggling and pushing.
“Did you do your chores?” she asked when they finally quieted down.
“Yes, ma’am. All done.” John poked his brother in the back.
“Okay, good. Can you help me with laundry?”