Leora: Bride of California (American Mail-Order Bride 31) (4 page)

“To my office. Mark and Lydia will meet us there. Then we’ll go to Mrs. Pleet’s for lunch and cake.”

“Cake?”

Theron smiled. “It is our wedding day. Mrs. Pleet made us a special cake.”

Now a tear escaped. “That was sweet of her.” If only she could say the same for the rest of the people that thought it their civil duty to witness her wedding. Thank Heaven it was over.

They entered Theron’s office through a side door at the back of the church. Mark and Lydia greeted them with happy smiles and Leora felt herself relax another notch. At least they were glad to see them married. Unlike the rest of the town …

“Congratulations, Theron,” Mark said and shook his hand.

Lydia hugged Leora. “Congratulations, dearie. I’m sure the two of you will be very happy.”

Leora smiled and willed the rest of her tears to stay as they were, unshed. “Thank you – that means a lot to me.”

They took care of the necessary paperwork, then made their way to the boarding house for lunch. For the first time, Leora noticed Mark had a limp – she’d seen he used a cane, but had thought it no more than a walking stick. She wondered what had happened to him, but the thought soon left once they reached the house as Mrs. Pleet fussed over the four like a mother hen over her chicks. “I had to leave before that Mrs. Rutherford and her brood of vipers said anything,” she complained.

Lydia looked at Mark, then Theron. “Who is she? The local busybody?”

Mark stifled a laugh.

“It’s like I told Leora yesterday,” Mrs. Pleet said. “Her husband owns the bank and most folks in town owe him. She thinks that gives her the right to bully folks.”

“
Not
very neighborly,” Mark commented archly.

“There’s not much one can do about it,” Theron said. “I’ve tried to avoid dealings with her until now.”

“I think you might have more than your share now that you’re married,” Mrs. Pleet warned.

“Why’s that? She obviously doesn’t approve of my choice of a bride, but that’s none of her business.”

Leora felt her cheeks grow hot. “I think
I’m
the one who’s going to have to deal with her.”

“Nonsense,” Theron said. “It’s true that, as my wife, there are folks who are going to want your attention and there’s a lot of work involved. But you needn’t concern yourself with the likes of Mrs. Rutherford. She’s more bark than bite.”

Leora took a deep breath. She hadn’t had to deal with anyone like Mrs. Rutherford before and hoped that it stopped at the wedding, but if Mrs. Pleet was implying what she thought she was, then she hadn’t seen the last of the woman. Drat.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things when the time comes,” Mark said with assurance. “Now, how about that lunch?”

“Right you are, Rev. Wingate!” Mrs. Pleet said and hurried to the kitchen.

They had a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches, followed by cake and coffee. The cake Mrs. Pleet had baked was a simple white cake with white frosting, but she’d decorated it with flower petals and mint leaves. “Where did you get flowers at this time of year?” Leora asked.

“Oh, we’ve got a florist in town,” Mrs. Pleet explained. “He mostly ships down the mountain to Sacramento, but we have enough customers here to keep him busy.”

Leora stared at her. She and Lottie had never had dealings in Lawrence other than buying food. Things such as florists and the hothouses where they grew their flowers in the cooler months weren’t a concern. But as a pastor’s wife, she’d need to know about those sorts of things.

She forced a smile as she realized how unfit she was for the tasks ahead. How busy was a pastor’s wife? What were her duties? Thank the Lord she could read and write!

Soon lunch was over and the Wingates were bidding Theron and Leora goodbye, anxious to get back to Napa via the afternoon train. Leora wished they could stay – Lydia had a strength that she envied. The woman was older, wiser and, Leora could tell, had been through a lot as a pastor’s wife, not to mention life in general. Leora wanted to glean some of that strength, or at least talk with her and find out what exactly a pastor’s wife’s duties were, but she wasn’t going to have the chance. She’d have to rely on her husband to teach her.

What was wrong with her? Why did she fear him showing her what to do? Because it was new territory for her, that’s why. Unfamiliar territory, which would mean plenty of opportunities to mess things up. Just like she always did …

Four

When you worked in a mill, there was a certain learning curve starting out, but once an employee knew their job, the daily routine hardly varied. Leora, her sister Lottie and their friends worked from six a.m. to six p.m. six days a week. Supervisors roamed the mills making sure that carders, spinners, weavers and doffers were fully engaged in their tasks. Breaks were few and they barely had time to relieve themselves before a supervisor accused them of malingering.

But that was then, this was now, and now she was a pastor’s wife. To some it probably didn’t sound like much, but to Leora it was everything.

She hadn’t thought about what the job would entail during the journey west. She’d been too busy wondering how Lottie and the others were doing with their new husbands. When she did think about Theron, she thought of him in ways to make sure she wouldn’t be disappointed when she saw him for the first time. Thankfully, he was far from a disappointment, but she should've also thought of what her new responsibilities would be.

She had an idea, of course. She knew preachers visited the sick and the poor, preached on Sunday and perhaps organized a function or two. But nothing had prepared her for Mrs. Rutherford and her expectations. Heck, she still wasn’t sure what those expectations were!

A memory hit, and she remembered when she and Lottie had first started working at the mill. She’d done something stupid, trivial but stupid, and the supervisor, Mr. Egan, got in her face and yelled at the top of his lungs. It was one of the most horrifying experiences of her life.

Now, years later, she couldn’t remember what she did to deserve such a scolding. All she remembered was Mr. Egan bellowing and threatening to take her outside to the whipping post. Someone explained to her later that Mr. Egan was from the South and no such whipping post existed. Too bad they waited until the end of her shift to tell her. She’d spent the day agonizing over a prospective beating that was never going to happen.

But his words had cut her to the quick, and she’d become a real perfectionist when given a task for fear of reprimand. Mrs. Rutherford and Mr. Egan would have made a fine pair.

“You’ll come see us won’t you?” Mark asked Theron as they shook hands.

“When we get the chance. It might be a while before we get out your way.”

“Maybe next spring?” Lydia suggested and smiled at Leora.

Theron glanced at the women and nodded. “We’ll see what happens after Easter.”

They finished their goodbyes, and Theron and Leora headed back to the church while the Wingates went upstairs to prepare to go home. “Did you notice it?” Theron asked as they walked.

“Notice what?”

“The house where you’re going to live, of course. It’s behind the church.”

“No, I didn’t. I was too nervous.”

“I understand – besides, most people think the parsonage is the house next door. Sometimes it’s hard to tell because of where it sits.”

“At least you don’t have to walk far to work,” she said with a smile.

“One of the benefits of my job.” He took her by the hand and held it until they reached the house. Instead of walking down the same path they’d taken to get to his office, he led her around the other side of the building. The church sat on a corner, the house behind it yet facing the street, with the two buildings sharing a backyard.

Theron led her up the porch steps, then searched through his pockets for his key. He found it, opened the door and, before she could say anything, swept her into his arms. “I was kind of hoping for an audience, but I guess our wedding was enough for them.”

“It was enough for me, too,” she said.

He flashed her a brilliant smile. “I could always give you an encore, Mrs. Drake.”

Mrs. Drake
. The words made her heart swell as he carried her across the threshold. Once inside the house, he set her on her feet but didn’t release her. He gazed into her eyes a moment, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her again.

Instead he licked his lips and looked away. “I’d better show you around. This, of course, is the parlor …”

Feeling disappointed, Leora studied her surroundings. The house appeared small from the front, without even a front hall. The parlor had a fireplace at one end, a staircase at the other near the front door. Beyond the parlor was a dining room and beyond that, the kitchen. “How many bedrooms are there?” she asked.

“Two, but that’s all we need for now.”

Leora blushed. He was right – who knew when they’d have children or how many? She followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen. “Oh my goodness.”

“What?”

“It’s so
big
,” she said and turned a full circle. If her guess was right, the kitchen was bigger than the parlor.

“Yes, this is one of the things I like about this house. There’s plenty of room back here. Even better, we have a water closet,” he said and pointed to a door.

“Indoor plumbing?”

He shrugged. “Another benefit.”

She smiled with delight and looked around. There was a sink with a water pump, plenty of counter space, a couple of hutches, a stove and a kitchen table that could seat at least eight people. “My, do you use this room for entertaining?”

“Sometimes. This and the dining room, of course, for meetings. My office is too small, the sanctuary too big. So this serves.”

She gave him a sheepish grin. “I did mention I don’t cook well, didn’t I?”

“Except for your excellent soup, I recall,” he said in a teasing tone.

“Oh, yes, that. Mrs. Pleet offered to teach me a few recipes.”

He took her hands in his. “And you’ll not find a better teacher.”

“She also mentioned a sewing machine?”

“Yes, right over here.” He led her back into the dining room. “There in the corner. I haven’t the slightest idea of how it works but I’m sure Mrs. Pleet does.”

“I do believe Mrs. Pleet and I are going to be spending a lot of time together,” she said.

“I suppose I can spare you.”

His comment made her chest tighten. But was it a good thing or a bad thing? “Does that mean you’re going to keep me busy?”

“It means, Mrs. Drake, that I’d like to spend time getting to know you.”

“Oh yes, that,” she said in relief.

“
That
?” he remarked with a chuckle. “Personally, I think
that
is very important.”

She blushed a furious red. “Yes, I know, I’m sorry. I was thinking of something else.”

“What?” he asked and brushed a wisp of hair off of her cheek.

A flare of heat went up her spine at the contact. How could such a simple gesture be so intimate? “I thought you meant working for you.”

“Working
with
me, you mean. There’s a big difference between the two.” He let go of her hand and leaned against the dining room table. “Let me make myself clear, Mrs. Drake. You will always work with me, alongside me, never
for
me.”

“My, I’m afraid that’s a new concept. I’ve worked since I was sixteen, but always for someone else.”

He reached for her hands and pulled her toward him. “Then you’ll be gratified to know that we’re going to be partners in this. That’s what a helpmeet is. You’ll remember that, won’t you?”

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

He gave her hands a squeeze. “Come on, I’ll show you the upstairs.”

She followed him up the staircase to the second floor. The first of the two bedrooms he showed her was quite large. “Good heavens, you could fit six beds in this one!” she exclaimed. “This must be over the parlor and dining room.”

“Yes, and it looks huge because it’s empty. Mark my words, you put a few dressers and beds in here and you’re looking at room for four.”

She tried to picture four beds along with a couple of dressers. The thought made her smile. “Four … you’re sure that’s all? Lottie and I had bunk beds.”

“I think I’ll stick with worrying about one bed for now.”

She blushed, knowing he meant when they had their first child. “At least we’ll have the space. What about the other bedroom?”

He led her to the end of the hall and the second bedroom. It, too, was quite large, even fully furnished. A bed sat at one end with a dresser against the wall on one side, a wash stand on the other. There was a small nightstand with an oil lamp upon it, and she had a sudden image of reading in bed with her new husband. At the other end of the room was a desk, chair and a small bookcase. A rocking chair sat in a nearby corner and Leora sighed at the sight of it.

“Do you like it?”

“I love rocking chairs. I’ve always wanted one, but could never … afford it.”

“Why don’t you try it out?” He motioned toward the chair.

Leora smiled in delight, went to it and sat. She ran her hands along the chair’s arms as she rocked, reveling in its smooth motion.

“Well? How is it?”

She rocked a little faster. “I love it! What a lovely spot for reading.”

“Yes, it is. I like to sit in that chair and read my Bible when I’ve got time.”

Leora stopped rocking. “Your job keeps you quite busy, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. At least I’m not the only preacher in town, or there’d be a terrible amount of work.”

“Hmm, plenty of people for Mrs. Rutherford to play with,” she commented dryly.

“You’ll get used to her. Besides, as my wife you’ll be too busy to worry about Mrs. Rutherford and her shenanigans.”

“It sounds like I have a lot to learn.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about being a preacher’s wife.”

“That’s okay, I don’t know anything about being a preacher’s wife’s husband, so we’re even.”

She laughed at his joke. He’d made her feel better about her lack of experience. “I’ve only ever worked in a mill – I don’t know anything else.”

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know – you won’t have to worry about a thing.” He stepped in front of the chair. “In fact, I can think of a thing or two I’d like to teach you right now. Would you like to learn?”

She nodded. “What sorts of things?”

He pulled her to her feet, put an arm around her and drew her into his chest. “This is how I hold my wife,” he said tenderly.

Leora swallowed hard – she wasn’t expecting him to embrace her
that
way. “What … what else?” she asked, her voice cracking.

His other arm came around her, imprisoning her within his hold. He lowered his face to hers. “Well, this is how I kiss my wife,” he said, and gently brushed his lips across hers. But he didn’t stop there – the next kiss he delivered was more demanding, and set Leora’s knees to shaking.

By the time he was done, she felt like warm jelly. She gasped for breath, glad he was holding her the way he was or she’d probably fall flat on her face. “Goodness!”

Theron chuckled. “Did you learn anything?”

She nodded and swallowed hard. “I think … I think I’ve learned that when you do
that
, I need to sit down.”

He laughed and eased her back into the rocking chair. “Here, sit.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll go downstairs and make us some coffee.

She nodded, feeling incapable of coherent speech. Perhaps she’d better have a cup of coffee – if a simple kiss could do this to her, what about … she sat ramrod straight and gulped. Oh good heavens, tonight was her wedding night! She immediately started to fan herself. It was just as well Theron was downstairs in the kitchen and couldn’t see her. She was probably as red as a beet!

Leora put her fingers to her lips and felt a jolt of heat at the memory of his kiss. What, she wondered, would tonight bring?

* * *

Leora awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon and sat up with a start. “Oh no!” Theron was downstairs making breakfast. Her first full day as Mrs. Drake and she was already slacking!

She jumped out of bed, realized she hadn’t a stitch of clothing on and blushed with embarrassment … until she remembered the night before. Theron Drake was indeed a good teacher and, considering he had no more experience than she did in the subject, she was surprised at what a natural he was. Then again, wasn’t he supposed to be? Shouldn’t she be as well? They’d naturally enjoyed each other in ways she, for one, didn’t think possible.

Just the idea made her warm all over, as well as chase away any logical thought she might have left. Finally she shook herself. Best not to think about last night or she’d never get anything done. She dressed, washed her face, fixed her hair and hurried downstairs.

When she reached the kitchen, Theron had two plates set out on the table and was spooning eggs onto each of them. “I missed it,” she lamented.

He looked up from his work. “Missed what?”

“Making you breakfast.”

“On the contrary,” he said as he put some bacon onto each plate. “As you’ll be making me breakfast most mornings, I thought today I’d make yours.”