The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (2 page)

Chapter 3


Y
ou’re awfully quiet
,” Clara said as the buggy approached the gates of Archer Ranch.

Meg was startled out of her thoughts and looked up at the house she shared with her brother, Hank, Clara, her father and her five sisters.

“Am I?” Meg said, but she knew Clara was right. Ever since they’d left the Occidental, all she could think about was Sam’s face at the news he’d not gotten any bride applicants.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Clara gave her a sideways glance from under the brim of her blue bonnet, a color that Meg had always thought made her eyes stand out and her red hair even more lovely.

Meg sighed as she turned back to the house, absently twisting a lock of her fine, strawberry blonde hair around her finger. She looked at Clara again, wondering if now would be a good time to ask her how she always looked so pretty.

Instead, she said, “I was just thinking about how sad this was for Sam, no brides.”

Clara shook her head slowly. “It is a shame. If any of them would just meet him and give him a chance, I am sure that they wouldn’t be so hesitant. He’s a fine man.”

A sigh escaped Meg and she caught herself, not wanting Clara to know that she had any stronger feelings than she’d already mentioned about Sam or his predicament. She knew if she mentioned how she felt, it would be something she could never take back, and she still wasn’t sure she was open for the teasing she knew she’d get. And Sam would be married, soon, anyway.

But I like Sam, too,
she thought, her hands fiddling with the ties of her bonnet. The buggy slowed a bit and Meg noticed the little white house that Clara and Hank shared, the very one her mother and father had lived in when they were first married.

The garden surrounding it was bursting with flowers they’d planted when Clara arrived, and she smiled as Clara turned toward the garden and said, “Look at what a little love and effort can do.”

“Yes. You and Hank have been happy there, haven’t you?” Meg said quietly, watching the garden as they passed.

“Oh, yes, very.” Clara patted Meg’s hand as she pulled the buggy up in front of the house.

“Were you nervous when you came from Chicago, after Sadie asked you to marry Hank? You two had never even met.”

Clara laughed as Ben, the stable hand, reached up to help her down out of the buggy. “Yes, you would think so, wouldn’t you. But honestly, I was quite anxious to see and learn about something new. I didn’t even know what a wrangler was before I arrived. Now, it seems, I’m married to the best one in the state.”

Meg smiled at the thought of how well things had turned out for Clara and Hank. “I’m very happy for you two,” she said, quite sincerely. She
was
happy for them.

Clara removed her bonnet and ran her hand quickly through her hair. As Meg took off her own bonnet, Clara looked at her, her head cocked to one side.

“You know, Meg, before you know it, you’ll be thinking about getting married. In fact, you’re old enough to be married now, and I’m a bit surprised you haven’t welcomed suitors yet.”

Meg frowned and looked down at her dress as her hand flew to her hair, again curling a stray lock around her finger.

“I’m not pretty like you are, Clara. I know I’m old enough to be married—maybe even time I should be— but I didn’t learn much from Mama about being…knowing…well, how to be beautiful, like you.”

Clara’s eyes grew wide and she reached out for Meg’s hand and laughed. “Oh, goodness. You are old enough. In fact, we’re close to the same age, so it’s about time you start thinking about it.

“Like I said, I don’t really know much about girl things.” She took another look at the dirt on the shoes she wore every day, suddenly embarrassed that she’d gone out in the same shoes she wore to do her ranch chores. What had she been thinking? No wonder Sam never noticed her.

As they stood on the porch and watched Ben lead the horses and the buggy back toward the stables, Clara reached out and took a bit of Meg’s hair in her hand.

“You know, I have some time before supper. Would you like me to show you a few things to do with your hair? Easy things?”

Meg’s eyes brightened as her heart fluttered. “Oh, would you? That would be so kind. I know that I just work here on the ranch, but I’d be very grateful if you’d teach me a thing or two. Just in case the need ever arises,” she said, heat creeping into her cheeks.

Clara laughed and wrapped her arm around Meg’s shoulders, turning her toward the house.

“Go wait for me in your room and start brushing your hair out. I’ll run down to the casita and grab some combs and pins,” Clara said over her shoulder as she headed down the drive.

“All right,” Meg said with trepidation as she closed the door behind her.

She sat down at the vanity in her room and took a good look at herself in the mirror. Her brows furrowed as she moved closer to the mirror and searched her eyes as she reached for a brush.

By the time Clara knocked on her door, she’d removed all the pins in her hair and had counted at least a hundred brush strokes. Her hair glistened and she went to the door and smiled as Clara bustled through, her arms full of ribbons and boxes of combs.

“You should pick up your chin up off the floor,” Clara said, laughing as she set her treasures down on the bed.

Meg smiled as she realized that she hadn’t seen any of these kinds of things since her mother had died a few years before. With seven children and a ranch to run, there had never been much time to learn to do things like this, and although Meg remembered her mother as always being beautiful and very well put together, there hadn’t been time for her to learn the same.

Clara smiled and brushed her hands together as she finished laying things out on Meg’s bed. Turning to her sister-in-law, she said, “Are you ready?”

Meg’s heart skipped a beat, and she smiled gratefully at Clara. “Yes, I think so.” She let Clara guide her back to the vanity, urging her to sit on the bench so they could both see in the mirror.

As Meg sat down, her hands clutched together in her lap, she caught Clara’s eye in the mirror.

With a gentle smile, Clara said, “Meg, you are a beautiful young woman. Yes, woman. I know you might not think of yourself that way, but you’re almost my age. It’s time we do away with pig-tails.”

Meg watched her cheeks turn crimson in the mirror as Clara began to brush her hair. “I guess I hadn’t thought of my pigtails like that. It was just an easy way to keep my hair out of my way.”

“Oh, I understand. I wore them in the bakery for the same reason, but now—goodness, now you’re a grown young woman. It’s time to think about suitors.”

“I’m not sure Papa would like us talking like this,” Meg said, her fingers still twined together in her lap.

Clara put her hands on Meg’s shoulders and bent down toward her ear, looking her in the eye in the mirror.

“Nutmeg Archer, your father loves you. He may not be thinking that way yet, but he’s going to have to get used to it. You will have suitors and so will all the other girls. So we might as well get started.”

“Thank you, Clara.” Meg sighed, knowing deep down that Clara was right. Whether her father was ready or not, it was time.

Chapter 4


C
oming
,” Meg said to Maria when she knocked on her door and called her for supper. Clara had spent a great deal of time on her hair, showing her how to use different kinds of combs, how to sweep it into a bun at the back of her neck and how to braid it as other women did—not in pigtails, though.

“You’ll have a steady stream of suitors now, Meg, if you want that.” Clara smiled kindly at her as she left to get ready herself for dinner.

Meg’s stomach clenched at the thought. She hadn’t even met many men as she’d been busy at the ranch, mostly, and there was no one interesting at church on Sundays. She didn’t venture out much more often than that except lately, now that Sadie and Clara had come from Chicago, aside from her daily trips to the mercantile to deliver milk and eggs.

Besides, since Hank had been off the trail these past few months and Sam had come fairly regularly to visit him, she really only had eyes for her brother’s good friend.

She didn’t know a whole lot about his job as a bartender, and it still confused her a little that women would think that wasn’t a respectable profession. What could be not respectable about anything in the Occidental? She couldn’t even imagine, and having listened to his stories as the family sat on the porch, she was even more confused that any woman who read the
Groom’s Gazette
wouldn’t jump at the chance to be his bride.

She sighed as she thought of his long, strong fingers, his black hair and striking blue eyes. She blushed at the thought of his strong arms under his shirt as he served drinks to customers and polished the wood at the bar until it gleamed.

She jumped as her youngest sister, Pepper’s, voice came through the door shortly before it opened and she poked her head inside. “Maria said don’t make us wait.” Her eyes grew wide at the sight of her sister. “What happened to you?”

Meg’s hands flew to her hair as she whipped around and glared at her sixteen-year-old sister.

“And what do you mean?”

A grin spread across Pepper’s face as she stood in the doorway. “You look like someone else. Like someone pretty,” she said, laughing as she dodged the pillow Meg threw at her.

“Don’t listen to her.” Clara swept into the room and grabbed Meg’s hands, pulling her out the door toward the dining room. “They’ll get used to it.”

But Meg thought
she
might never get used to it as she walked into the dining room behind Clara and was met with utter silence, with every eye in the room turned in her direction.

Hank and her father both stood when they saw her, their eyes wide and seemingly stunned into silence.

“What?” Meg said as she hurried toward her chair at the table and felt all eyes following her. Even Maria stopped mid-stride as she came through the kitchen door carrying a plate of enchiladas in her hand and, as usual, she was the first to speak.

“Miss Meg,” she said slowly as she set the plate in the middle of the table. “You look beautiful. Doesn’t she, Mr. Archer.” She pointedly looked at Meg’s father, Beau Archer, who sat slowly but didn’t take his eyes off of his oldest daughter.

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat, looking down at his empty plate and then to Maria, their housekeeper who had come from Mexico to help take care of the family many years ago. “Yes, Maria, she looks beautiful.” He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to Meg, his eyes soft. “You look beautiful, Meg.”

Clara smiled and looked around at Meg’s five sisters, her eyes settling finally on Hank, who still stared at his sister as if he’d never seen her before.

“Meg wanted some tips on how to fix her hair in other ways, and while we were at it we added a little fancying up,” she said. “Doesn’t she look lovely, Hank?” she said to her husband, who seemed startled to hear his name.

“What? Oh, yes. She looks lovely.”

“I think she looks silly,” Saffron said, reaching for the plate of rice on the table after Maria nodded, confirming that the table was complete and that they should start eating.

“Saffron, do not say that,” Maria snapped, her eyes flashing at the twin. “Meg is a grown young lady now. It is time she dress and behave as one.”

“Why?” Pepper said. “Why would you fix your hair up to go milk the cows? Pigtails are smarter.” She took the dish of beans from Rosemary on her right, plopping a heaping spoonful on her plate and passing the dish to Tara on her left.

Mr. Archer lifted the platter of enchiladas, helping himself to a portion as his eyebrows furrowed. As he passed the plate to Hank on his left, he sat back in his chair, surveying Meg once more.

“What is it, Papa?” Meg asked as her eyes held his. She hadn’t guessed she would get this kind of reception from her family. It was as if she was a complete stranger. That they only saw her as the little girl milking the cows.

“It is just a surprise to see you looking so grown up, Meg,” he said as he picked up his fork and began to eat.

“Well, I
am
grown up.” Meg’s heart tugged at his words. It seemed that her entire family looked at her as a little girl, and didn’t see her as who she really was—a grown woman of marrying age.

“She definitely is grown up,” Clara cut in, smiling at Maria as she nodded in agreement. “She’s only a year younger than I am, and Hank and I have been married for months now.”

Her husband appeared puzzled as he looked from his wife to his little sister and back again. His fork stopped in mid-air and Meg noticed his ears go crimson as he turned to look at his father.

Clara hid a smile behind her napkin and she winked at Meg. Meg tried to smile in return but felt her stomach knot as she realized that her family didn’t think of her as an adult, and never may.

“That’s different, Clara,” Saffron said, turning to Meg. “Meg doesn’t need suitors. We’re happy here the way things are. Aren’t we, Meg?”

Meg had always been closest to her sister next in line—Rosemary had always been the one she shared secrets with, and Rosemary shared hers with Meg in return. They’d grown even closer since their mother died, and a sense of embarrassment washed over her as she realized that she hadn’t shared with her how she felt about Sam Allen. Or about being interested in suitors.

“I…I…well, I’ve been thinking, and it might be time for me to entertain suitors. Mightn’t it, Papa?” She turned a hopeful gaze at her father, not at all certain how he would respond.

She turned her eyes to her hands in her lap as he said, “Now, Meg, let’s not rush things. Really, Clara and Hank were only married a few months ago, and that was a big change. I…well, another big change like that might be too much. For your sisters.”

Meg caught Maria and Clara sharing a knowing glance, and her heart tugged as he spoke the words that sounded so final.

“Who would want to be her suitor anyway?” Pepper asked, reaching for the plate of enchiladas for seconds.

“Pepper, stop,” Maria admonished. “And, Mr. Archer, I think that Meg’s
sisters
would be fine with Meg having suitors. It’s you and Mr. Hank I’m not too sure about,” Maria said over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen.

“Papa, I really am old enough,” Meg said, turning to her father at the head of the table. Her napkin had been folded and re-folded several times and she hadn’t eaten a bite although the rest of her family was almost finished. If she couldn’t get her father to agree to the idea of suitors at all, she had no chance of trying to get Sam Allen to notice her, but new excitement was growing inside her as the prospect became more and more real.

“Meg, you really want suitors?” Rosemary said softly from the far end of the table, her eyes troubled as she looked at her big sister.

Meg gazed at Rose, nodding slowly as she smiled at her sister. “Yes, Rose, I think it’s time, just like Clara said. It will be fun, and you’ll be next.”

Rose smiled at Meg and gave a small nod, a gesture Meg knew to mean she would support her decision, and she gave a small nod of thanks in return, her eyes sparkling.

“So, it’s settled, then,” Meg said, turning back to her father.

Beau Archer set his napkin on his empty plate, pushed back from the table and stood, taking a long look around the table at his family. His gaze stopped on Meg last, and her smile faded as he said, “No. Not yet. It’s not time yet.”

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