Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) (5 page)

Read Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) Online

Authors: Carra Copelin

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Fifth In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #Arkansas, #Philadelphia, #Society, #Massachusetts, #Tornado, #Father, #Threats, #Stranger, #Family Life, #Two Children, #Wife Deceased, #Farmer, #Common Ground, #Goals

“Because I choose to do so, that’s why!” he bellowed. Ora Lee had always questioned why he did the things he did. No matter what his decision was, it always seemed to be wrong, in her opinion. He didn’t want to start off this marriage with the same problems. This was his land, his vision, his legacy, and he’d do whatever he darned well pleased. Reaching for her, he said, “Come on.”

Laurel stood her ground in the middle of the corral and pulled her arm from his grasp. She pulled harder than she thought and fought to regain her balance as she came close to falling on her bustle. Luckily, she remained upright and managed to side-step a pile of horse manure in the process. That could’ve been disastrous since she wore her only good pair of shoes.

“Why are you yelling at me?” she asked. “I’m not questioning your decisions, Griffin. I don’t know you, and I’m simply trying to understand.”

He glared at her for a few seconds, his body taut as an over-wound clock spring. As suddenly as he’d sprung to anger, his demeanor visibly softened. “You’re right, of course, but I have my reasons. Shall we move on?”

“Yes.” She placed her hand in his and followed him from the corral to a location out beyond the barn. She had no idea what had set him off, but she guessed it had something to do with his authority being challenged. She hadn’t met a man yet who liked for that to happen.

He led her around tree stumps, over a few fallen logs and through a thicket of vines, and then stopped. “The drought has everything fairly dry and it’s sure been prettier, but there.” He stood straight and tall and pointed.

She looked up, and saw nothing but his back and broad shoulders. When she maneuvered around him, the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen lay before her. No wonder he’d wanted to show her this place. She’d thought the house was in a valley, but the river was further below them. Unlike the Merrimack River, where factories and shipping yards lined the banks, the Arkansas River was flanked by lush forests and thick undergrowth. She had a hard time imagining it could be more beautiful. From up here, anyway, it looked like a green carpet rolled out to meet the water.

“How beautiful,” she whispered. Glancing to her right, she noticed a bench carved into a fallen log. “Do you come sit out here often?”

“No,” he spat out. “Not anymore.”

She looked up at him and watched the muscle work back and forth along his jawline. Someone had really squashed his self-esteem. If she had to guess, she’d bet his previous wife had worked hard to undermine his authority, otherwise he wouldn’t feel so compelled to assert himself now. While she didn’t like domineering men, seeing ones that were riddled with self-doubt due to over-bearing wives, were equally disturbing.

“Look, I realize we don’t know each other yet.” She hoped she was doing the right by saying something to him. “Something or someone has treated you badly in the past, but I haven’t and don’t deserve your biting tone.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked out over the valley below. “Unfortunately, I’ve had my guard up for so long it may take me a while to get out of the habit of snapping. I promise to work on that.”

“Apology accepted.” She gave him a smile, placed her hand in his, and then she leaned into his side. “Thank you for bringing me here. This is most certainly one of the prettiest places I’ve seen. If it’s all right with you, could we head back to the house, now? I’d like to get out of these clothes and perhaps have some tea?”

“It’s probably been long enough,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you?”

“Um, yes, of course,” he spoke louder this time. “I don’t know about tea, but there should be coffee.”

She made a mental note to make sure the cook put that item on the list for the next trip into town. She much preferred tea over coffee. There were other things, she was sure needed to be made note of and she’d start on them the first thing in the morning. Her excitement began to build as they headed back to the house. By the time they reached the corral, she was practically humming.  

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Laurel followed Griffin to the front entrance of the house. From the outside, it didn’t appear to be anything fancy, but it did look sturdy. Substantial. A porch stretched along the entire front and two large windows bracketed either side of the massive front door. She guessed from the height and pitch of the roof there were two stories within. The view was lovely and, after a good sweeping, she could envision a swing in one corner of the porch where they might sit together and catch the breeze on a summer night.

“Such a lovely home, Griffin. I can hardly wait to see the inside.”

“I just hope you aren’t disappointed.”

“I can’t imagine I would be.” She jumped as a loud crash sounded beyond the door.

Griffin stepped in front of her and swung the door open wide. “Clem! Otto! What’s going on in here?”

Laurel followed carefully behind him, looking around the large room. She was taking in the disarray, when the two boys she’d met earlier rolled across the floor in front of her. They stopped only when their feet got tangled in her skirts.

Griffin steadied her and then hauled Otto from atop Clem and held him by the shirt collar. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Clem told me I didn’t stand a chance of getting me a pretty girl like your missus, so I clocked him.” He struggled to pull out of Griffin’s grasp. “It ain’t true.”

“Dang sure is,” Clem taunted. “You’re ugly as a mud fence.”

“Gentlemen,” Laurel interrupted. “I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but you
are
identical twins.” The two boys stared at each other causing her to smile to herself. Had they really not noticed before? “If one of you is ugly then the other is, also. I happen to find you both very handsome.”

“You do?” The boys asked in unison.

“Yes, I find you—”

“Boys, the day’s getting away from you. If you’re going to get your chores done, you need to get to them.” He let go of Otto, and then reached down to right an over-turned chair. He handed Clem a red plaid shirt and said, “Get things picked up so dinner can be put on the table.”

“Yessir.”

“Laurel, I hate to leave you, but I need to check around and be sure the stock is put up for the night. I’ll be back in as soon as I can.”

“I’ll follow up and be sure dinner is ready for you when you come in. Will it just be you and the boys?”

“As far as I know.”

As far as he knows, my great-aunt Ida
.

“This is no way to run a household,” she whispered at his back as he abandoned her. “I will not keep a house this way.”

The large room, which obviously served as the parlor and dining room, was stifling, so she left the door open behind her. Glancing about at the disorder, she found another chair laying on its side, an over-sized oblong table, probably from the dining room, covered with sundry items, and the fireplace, which over flowed with half-burned logs and ashes. If the rest of the house looked like this, and there was no reason for her to expect it didn’t, she had a lot of work ahead of her.

She made her way to a short hallway and found the kitchen on her right. What she discovered was just as dismal. Dirty dishes, pots, and pans were stacked everywhere, some held rotting food, some she was certain could never be used again. A fairly nice stove sat along one wall, but it would take a lot of elbow grease to make it shine again. The sink and the floor could do with a good scrubbing, too.

As she turned to leave the kitchen, she parted the curtains hanging below the counter beneath the sink and squealed as a feathered creature flew at her. She waved her hands wildly above her head as its claws snagged her hair, and when she hazarded a peek, the tail feathers of a chicken fluttered out the open window.

After her heart settled back into her chest, she gathered her wits and realized there probably wasn’t any house staff, and if there wasn’t, how did she proceed? It suddenly dawned on her she was here under false pretenses, and they were both at fault. He hadn’t plainly stated his situation and she had presumed certain things due to her upbringing. He obviously couldn’t afford to hire anyone to cook and clean, for who would choose to live like this if they could?

She couldn’t take a chance on him finding out she’d misled him as to her abilities and she wouldn’t go back to Philadelphia and live under her father’s thumb. No, she could do this. She was smart, and a fast learner. Why, after the tornado had hit Lawrence, hadn’t she gone back to her job at the mill to continue living on her own with no one’s help just her own know-how? Confident she could learn what she needed to get this house in order, she headed outside to see Mr. Griffin Benning. He had a little explaining to do concerning his own part in the deception.

 

***

 

As Griffin suspected, after seeing the inside of the house, Clem and Otto had laid on their collective duffs for the day and a half he’d been gone to Flat Rock Point. The outside wasn’t in any better shape. He’d promised them each a dollar to get things ready for Laurel. He’d wanted to make a good impression on his new bride.

For some reason he couldn’t figure out, she thought he had servants. He’d tried two times to tell her she had the wrong idea, but both times he’d been interrupted. Had he made a mistake marrying a city girl from the east coast? Should he have tried harder to find a local girl who knew his situation? The Widow Jenkins popped into his mind and he shuddered. No, as far as local went, he’d done right placing an ad for a wife from anywhere but here.

He looked up from the stall he was repairing as the barn door swung open. In marched his wife of twenty-four hours. Her look was determined and seemingly agitated. He thought it better to head her off.

“Laurel, I apologize for the shape the house is in. I had asked the boys to clean before we came home.”

“I’m not so much worried about the state of the house, as I am concerned you’re being taken advantage of by your staff.”

He stared at her, wondering which tack to take. He could make up several stories to tell her but, in the end, honesty had always served him best. “I’m sure you’ve realized by now, there is no staff. I haven’t had a housekeeper since Ora Lee passed away.” He gave her time to digest the information and to give him a piece of her mind. When she didn’t, he continued, “I just didn’t see the need to spend the money for someone with only me and a few of the other men here.”

“I see.”

He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but so far her personality seemed very different from his former wife’s. Ora Lee would’ve turned on her heel and boarded the first train to Little Rock. He took it as a good sign that Laurel hadn’t budged from her original spot.

“Now, if I’ve misunderstood your reply that you could run a house, and I need to—”

“No!” She looked about her and tucked in a few stray locks of her hair. “No, let’s see how it goes, give me time to get used to the place and where you keep things.”

“That’s fair.” He slid a piece of wood under the outer edge of the stall door to hold it level. Before he turned his attention back to the broken hinge, he said, “The boys and I will bring your trunks and cases in after dinner, if that’s all right with you?”

“Yes, thank you. How soon do you want to eat and is there anything, in particular, you want me to cook?”

“Doesn’t have to be fancy, just filling. Me and the boys aren’t particular. You’ll find meat in the smokehouse, vegetables that aren’t canned are in the springhouse, and you can go from there.”

He went back to work on the stall and wondered what she would fix them to eat. He hoped she was a decent cook, but in all reality he’d eat anything put before him as long as it wasn’t prepared by him or the boys. He was tired of eating his own sorrowful cooking. He looked forward to her first meal with great anticipation. Almost as much as he looked forward to their first night together. He hadn’t pushed her last night at the hotel, but now that they were home, he planned on getting to know the new Mrs. Benning on a very personal level.

 

***

 

Now what did she do? Laurel stood in the kitchen with her hands on her hips surveying the damage. So much had to be done to get a meal on the table, but that wasn’t her main problem. She had never put a whole meal together in her life and she hadn’t been able to admit the truth to the man she married. Even though she’d never actually said she could cook, she’d left him with that impression, and now she had to produce.

All right, enough standing around. Let’s get to it.

She removed her gloves and stuffed them inside her reticule, removed her jacket, and then placed them on the counter in the corner. She pushed her sleeves past her elbows and set about putting things to rights in the room.

First, she took the dirty, rancid smelling pots and set them outside on the back porch to be dealt with at another time. Once she had cleared off the burners of the stove, she actually discovered a couple of relatively clean pots and a pan and she started some water to boil. She found some cleaning solution under the sink and as the water warmed, she began soaking plates, cups and silverware for washing.

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