The Bartender's Mail Order Bride (5 page)

“
P
apa
, please, can we go?” Meg heard outside her door on the morning of the wedding—her wedding.

“Girls, it’s a very small affair and I don’t believe they’re expecting everyone.” Her father’s response to her twin sisters, Saffron and Sage, was clear and strong. If it had been her he was speaking to, she’d know that there was no room for argument.

But Saffron and Sage had experience convincing their father with a power born of doubling up on him, as she suspected all twins did.

“Suzanne invited us herself when we were in the mercantile yesterday, and she said she’s expecting all of us. Planning for it,” Saffron told her father.

Meg’s stomach twisted at the thought that her entire family might actually be at her wedding—and for a second, she wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. She hadn’t had the courage to tell her father yet, and was hoping that he would find out afterward, when it was all said and done. She was of legal age by several years and didn’t need his permission, and she knew she wouldn’t get any other kind of blessing or understanding, as he didn’t want her to have suitors at all, let alone get married to someone he thought she barely knew.

As she slowly packed her belongings in the bags that were hidden on the far side of her bed, she thought again of Samuel and how happy they would be. In her dreams, awake or asleep, she pictured the two of them, a happy family, maybe with a couple of children, in Samuel’s lovely house in town. She’d seen it once when she’d been in town with her brother Hank and he’d needed to drop something off.

There was something then and there about the white, clapboard house that had captured her fancy. It was full of beautiful furniture that she’d assumed had come from New York, where she knew Samuel to have been born and raised. Some of the furnishings were things she’d never seen before, having been born and raised in the West, but she remembered thinking that it was lovely, like something you’d see in a big family house, but also comfortable—because it was Samuel’s home.

She quickly put her hands behind her back to hide the skirt she was folding when she heard the knock on the door.

“Yes?” she said, her heartbeat quickening.

“It’s me, Clara. May I come in?”

Meg quickly stuffed the skirt in her bag and kicked it under the bed before saying, “Of course, Clara. Come in.”

Clara smiled as she entered and Meg’s heart tugged, happy that Clara would be at her wedding.

“I was wondering if you were going to Samuel’s wedding this afternoon. And if you are planning to attend, I’d be happy to fix your hair for you this morning.” She smiled as she sat down on the side of the bed.

Meg’s hands flew to her braids. She hadn’t even thought about what to do with them! If Clara hadn’t offered, she’d have shown up just as she looked now. She sighed with relief and said, “Oh, Clara, that would be wonderful. I do plan to go, and I need practice at fixing my hair on my own.”

Clara stood and laughed. “There’s no rush, Meg. Plenty of time for you to learn, but I’m happy to do it today and give you another lesson. Back in a bit? I’ll gather my hairpins and combs.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful, Clara. I very much appreciate it.” Clara smiled again and shut the door behind her.

Meg went to her jewelry box on the vanity and opened it, rummaging for two tortoise-shell and pearl combs she knew were there somewhere. They had been a gift from her parents after they’d taken a trip to the west coast and seen the ocean. Her hand closed around them and she held them up to her hair, satisfied that they would make a fine addition to the purple satin dress.

She bathed quickly, brushing her hair out beforehand and making sure she used the scented soap she’d borrowed from Clara a few days before. She dressed slowly, stopping occasionally to look in the mirror and make sure that things were in order. As she put on her crisp, white shirt over the beautiful satin skirt, she smiled, knowing she’d made the right choice.

Just as she finished dressing, Clara knocked twice and opened the door, peeking her head in. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, Clara, I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Clara laughed as she set the brushes and hair pins down on the vanity. “It’s just a wedding, Meg, but I’m glad you’re excited for it.”

Meg tried to keep any and all expressions from her face as she sat down on the stool and Clara began to fix her hair. Her nerves were starting to buzz and excitement filled her chest as Clara worked through her hair, turning it into a beautiful mixture of twisted buns pinned high and soft tendrils framing her face.

“There. What do you think?” Clara said, admiring her handiwork in the mirror.

“Oh, Clara, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” Meg stood and gave Clara a big hug before she picked up the tortoiseshell combs and held them out to Clara.

“Those are beautiful, Meg. Would you like me to place them in your hair?”

Meg looked down at the combs in her hand and thought of her mother, once again wishing she was with her today. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. They were a gift from my parents, and I think they go well with the dress.”

Clara took the combs and guided Meg back down onto the stool. “Yes, they are gorgeous, and so are you. Maybe there will be someone there who strikes your fancy, and maybe we can convince your father to allow you to accept suitors. You certainly look beautiful today, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you caught someone’s eye.”

Meg’s neck grew warm at Clara’s compliments. She really should tell her that she wouldn’t need suitors, that Sam Allen was the only man she’d ever even thought of, and that soon, he would be her husband.

Once again, though, she realized that since she
hadn’t
told anyone, now was not the time to start, now that everything was so close and within her grasp.

She hugged Clara once more before she left, and Meg returned to her packing. She’d just finished when she heard another knock on the door and Hank’s voice say, “Come on, Meg. If you’re going to come, now’s the time. We need to get going.”

“I’ll be right there, Hank,” Meg said, her hands momentarily shaking as she put on the purple satin jacket that perfectly matched her skirt.

“You look lovely, dear,” her father said as he helped her into the buggy with her other sisters—all five of them—and Hank and Clara. Her father had had to order a special buggy to fit the entire family long ago, and Meg wondered how long it would be before he’d need to order another one.

Meg couldn’t focus on any of the chatter between her sisters as the buggy headed down the drive and into town, and as it neared the Occidental, she drew in a sharp breath when she saw Samuel standing on the porch of the restaurant, utterly dashing in his dark suit and bow tie. His black hair was slicked back, his blue eyes clear and twinkling as he assisted her family out of the buggy, one by one.

As she stood and it neared her turn to be helped down from the buggy, the last of the family to do so, her heart beat so fast she was afraid it would thump right out of her chest. She had practiced many responses to him when he noticed she was the woman in the letter, the one in the purple dress. She had not rehearsed a reply to the comment she did get.

As Samuel reached up and she placed her hand in his, she smiled, waiting for him to react joyfully that it was she who had responded to him. She was so surprised, she couldn’t think of a thing to say when he said, “Meg, you look lovely today,” and although she thought she caught a spark in his eye when he said it, all she could do was nod when he continued. “Thank you for coming to my wedding. I’m glad you’re here, and I can’t wait for you to meet my new wife.”

T
houghts ran
through Meg’s head faster than she could keep up with them. Had he just said what she thought he had? That he was anxious for her to meet his
wife
? Could he not see her purple dress? Was he
blind
?

She suddenly wished she had told someone—anyone—so that she could ask for advice. What should she do now? All the daydreams she’d had about this moment had been very different, and she had nothing at the ready at all for this contingency.

She took a deep breath and followed her family into the Occidental, playing through different scenarios in her head. Now she was left with making a big announcement, in front of her father and her entire family. She supposed she could just stay silent, and everyone would think that the bride to be had just not shown up. But no, that would mean that she’d still need to negotiate with her father, something she’d rather not have to do.

On the far right of the Occidental was the private dining area that was used for small gatherings, and from the opposite side of the room, Meg could see that it had been decorated beautifully with purple and white flowers and ribbons to match. As she entered the room, the preacher—likely there to marry them—turned to Sam and said, “Well, young fellow, when are we to begin the ceremony.”

Sam glanced at the clock, both hands pointing straight up to twelve noon. He looked over to Sadie and Suzanne, who both shrugged their shoulders.

“She was supposed to be here by noon, although the wedding won’t be until one,” Sam said as he wrung his hands.

Sadie crossed the few steps over to Sam and patted him on the shoulder. She waved her hand around the room, looking at the Archer family, Suzanne, James and their twins, Lucy and Lily, and said, “Don’t worry. We’re all here and ready whenever she gets here.”

“How do you know she’s not here already,” the pastor said as he glanced around the room and then out into the main dining area of the restaurant.

Sam stood in the door of the private area, looking around at the patrons of the restaurant. After he’d scanned the room, he turned back toward the guests in the smaller room. “I would know if she was here. She said she’d be wearing a purple—”

He stopped short as his eyes fell on Meg. His eyes grew wide and questioning as he scanned her up and down, and he whispered under his breath, “dress.”

Meg’s stomach flipped as her eyes met Sam’s, hoping for some flicker of happiness at the awareness that she would be his bride, but all she saw was pure, unadulterated shock.

Meg’s father, who was standing next to the pastor, waved his hand in the air dismissively and turned away. “That’s impossible. Preposterous. Tell him, Meg.”

Meg turned, glancing around the room. Her stomach knotted as she noted each pair of eyes as big as saucers, from her brother Hank’s to Sadie’s and Suzanne’s.

She crossed the room and took her father’s hand. “Papa, I know this may come as a bit of a surprise, but it is true. I answered Sam’s ad and I intend to be his bride.”

All the blood drained out of Beau Archer’s face as he pulled his hand away from his daughter. “A surprise?
A surprise
? This is a ridiculous farce. A mistake is what it’s called.”

Sam came and stood beside her, his concern plain in his eyes. “Mr. Archer, I assure you—”

“I don’t know what you were thinking, young man, but this marriage will not take place. I forbid it.”

Meg had expected her father to be surprised, maybe even a little angry, but she hadn’t anticipated this. She looked up at Sam and placed her arm through his.

“Papa, you can’t forbid it. I am of age. It is my decision, and I want to do this. For Sam and for me.”

She could feel her five sisters—and even Clara—holding their breath, and heard loud, long sighs from around the room.

Clara stepped forward, looking deep into Meg’s eyes before she grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly out of the room. She spun around and asked, “Is this truly what you want, Meg?”

Meg reached out and took Clara’s hands in hers. “Yes, Clara, it is. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Clara looked confused, at first, and then smiled. “Yes, I think somewhere deep down I knew that. I did know you were pining for someone, but wouldn’t have guessed it was Sam. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Sam didn’t even know I existed. I never knew how to get his attention, and then he needed a bride and I knew it was my only chance. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case they’d try to stop me. Which is exactly what’s happening now.”

“You can’t blame your father for being stunned. Not long ago he didn’t want you to even have suitors, let alone be married. This might take a bit of time for him to get used to. Why not wait a while and we can sort it all out?” Clara glanced back into the room, where everyone seemed to be looking at their shoes in silence.

Meg glanced back into the room at Sam, who’d sat down at one of the tables and had his head in his hands. Even in his surprised state, she thought he was the kindest, most handsome man she’d ever met. She wanted to help him with his predicament, but she also knew it was the best chance for her to be with the man that she now believed that she loved.

She squared her shoulders and smoothed down her purple dress—which would be her wedding dress.

“I’ve thought this through, Clara. This is what I want and I’m going to go through with it. If Sam hasn’t changed his mind, that is.”

Clara turned to walk back into the room, pulling Meg along with her. As she reached Sam, she cleared her throat and looked at Hank, who stood against the wall as he watched the scene unfold, his arms crossed over his chest. Meg couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, but she hoped he’d be supportive. After all, he’d had a mail order bride himself.

“Sam, Meg is certain that she wants to go through with this. Do you want to continue with the ceremony?”

Sam stood and his eyes searched Meg’s. As she looked into his deep blue eyes, Meg thought she saw a spark, just for a second, or a flash of some feeling on Sam’s part, and her heart sped up as she waited for his response.

Sam smiled at Meg and squeezed her hand before turning and walking over to her father. “Mr. Archer, I realize that this is an unusual circumstance, but I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Beau’s face turned red as he sputtered, “Certainly not. You do not have my permission to do this and you never will.”

Sam hung his head for a moment as he pulled back his outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Archer. But Meg’s right, it’s her decision.”

Meg watched all of this unfold around her, frozen to the spot. She let out a big sigh and walked over to her soon-to-be husband and again wound her arm through his. “It would mean a lot to me, Papa, to have your blessing.”

“Not in a million years. If you want to ruin your life, you’re going to have to do it without me. Come on, girls, we’re leaving.” He strode toward the door, motioning for his family to follow. When he reached the door, he turned, his brows furrowing as he saw his daughters standing firmly in place, their eyes cast either downward or at Meg.

Not one of them had moved an inch, and Meg’s heart sang as she glanced down the row of her sisters and nodded, thanking them for their support.

“Hank? Clara? Let’s go,” Beau said as he motioned toward the door.

Hank cleared his throat, grasped Clara’s hand and moved over to stand by Meg and Sam.

“I believe we’re staying, Pa. All of us.”

Again, Mr. Archer paled, his mouth opening as if he were going to speak. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, spun on his heel and left the room, and the Occidental entirely.

As he closed the door behind him, the air in the room seemed to return and everyone who had been watching breathed deeply. Sadie rushed to Meg and said, “Meg, I don’t quite know what to say. You certainly are a determined young lady.”

Meg felt her face flush. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry for my father’s…well, for his actions.” She turned to Sam and looked up into his eyes. “And thank you, Sam, for wanting to move forward with this.”

“Meg, I don’t know how to say this, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, but I have to. My mother will be here in a few days and I need a wife.”

Meg’s heart sank at his words, although she knew they were true. She also knew that she loved him, and that he would come to understand how perfect they were for each other. She’d seen the spark. She knew he would.

“Well, then, Mr. Allen, we may as well not waste any more time. Let’s get married, shall we?”