The Unexpected Bride (The Brides Book 1) Page 12

  She also wanted more than anything to go into town.

  So she dropped the bundle of receipts on top of the ledger and stood. “Yes.”

  ***

  Isaac immediately stepped back from Rebecca and turned away. He set his hat on his head and then grabbed up his coat, which was hanging over the back of the rocker, where he’d tossed it last night. “I’ll get the horses saddled. Can you be ready to leave quick-like?”

  At her swift nod of assent, he crossed the room and walked through the front door without looking back.

  Asking her along to buy supplies had been an impulse, Isaac admitted to himself. He didn’t normally make a snap decision like that, and the momentary lapse set him on edge. Her offer to help with the books notwithstanding, he’d come to realize last night that it was time to face facts. He had to resign himself to the number-one fact—that she belonged to another man, just as surely as if she were wed to this Jack and not to him.

  Isaac scowled. To think he’d actually started to believe things were warming nicely between them. He liked her. He’d thought she liked him. He’d even let himself begin to hope a little...

  And then late last night he’d tossed in bed for hours, listening to the sounds of her soft humming through the wall and the swish of her slippers across the bare wood floor.

  Even now he could picture her waltzing around the small back room with some phantom lover. But it was the sound of her tears afterwards that had nearly kept him up for hours, long after she’d finally stopped and fallen asleep. She hadn’t just cried, she’d sobbed. And the sound had seemed to reverberate through the thin wall between them. It was so pitiful sounding he’d been tempted to go to her, try to comfort her, but he’d decided his presence wouldn’t be welcome. She’d probably find his intrusion embarrassing.

  He’d been a fool. She wasn’t going to forget her old love anytime soon. It was time for both of them to admit the truth. Her heart would always belong to Jack. And Isaac couldn’t live with a woman who belonged to someone else. He was also all too aware that he was weak where she was concerned. If he were really being honest, he’d have to admit his feelings toward her went beyond like. Such a tepid word for what he felt. He hadn’t let himself fall in love, but he’d become attached to her. Something lit up inside him whenever she came near. Her soft ways had a way of luring him in, and if he didn’t ship her back to Massachusetts soon, he might be tempted to relent and let her stay.

  He didn’t relish telling her that though.

  Although asking her along today had been a snap decision, the idea of sending her off well-supplied did seem the right thing to do. He’d satisfy his responsibility to the woman—he had to start thinking of her that way. Put a little distance between them. In a way, he’d be doing her a favor. She could go home and try to mend things with her beau. He’d pay the fare for her voyage, of course.

  There was the matter of their own hasty marriage too, but with some discreet legal consultation, Isaac was sure—well, relatively sure—that he could get their marriage annulled. Not that he planned on marrying again anytime soon, despite his father’s touching plea for grandchildren. No, it was Rebecca who would need her freedom to marry Jack. Somehow, he’d find a way to release her from this sham of a marriage.

  The thought filled Isaac’s mouth with the bitter taste of ashes.

  FIFTEEN

  Later in town, Isaac dropped Becky at the general store to begin shopping while he went to pick up feed for the animals. Becky was about to enter the store when she caught sight of her friend Meggie sitting in a parked farm wagon.

  “Meggie!” Becky called out to her former shipmate and hurried to the wagon’s side.

  Meggie waved wildly from her perch. She leaned down and grasped Becky’s outstretched hand. “Becky! It seems like forever.”

  “It does seem like forever. Where’s Will?”

  “He’s making a deposit at the bank.”

  “Are you happy?” Becky asked tentatively, resting her hand on the wagon rail. Her mother would have said it wasn’t polite to pry, but this was her friend. She’d been so lonely for someone to talk to, and now here was Meggie. It was like an answer to a prayer she hadn’t thought to pray.

  At her question, Meggie blushed a pretty pink. Her shy girlish grin said more than her softly spoken, “Yes.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Meggie.”

  “Things are tight on Will’s folks’ farm, but we’re making ends meet. We’ve been married just over two weeks.”

  “Us too.”

  “What about you? Are you happy with Isaac?”

  Becky hesitated, drawing in a deep breath and wishing her troubled thoughts weren’t written as clearly on her face as she knew they were.

  “What’s wrong?” The look Meggie gave her was searching, and Becky was sure her friend didn’t miss anything.

  Becky looked down the street in the direction Isaac had gone. He’d also agreed to post a letter for her to her mother and had said he’d meet her back at the general store when he was through. Seeing no sign of him, she met Meggie’s concerned gaze.

  “Things are strained between us,” she admitted.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Oh, Meggie, I’m trying to be a good wife for Isaac, but no matter what I do, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I thought things were going better between us, but then this morning he’s been different. I don’t know what happened, but he seems as cold as a mountain stream now.”

  “Do you love him?” Her friend probed gently.

  Becky hesitated. “My heart’s been so caught up in Jack that I haven’t felt anything for Isaac besides a growing friendship. I respect him though—I really do—and want our marriage to work.”

  “But...?”

  “I’m just tired, I guess.” Becky sighed heavily, feeling so completely torn in two. It seemed these days she didn’t even know who she was anymore. “I’ve been trying so hard to change...”

  “Change what?”

  “Oh, there’s this scripture in the Bible, about having a gentle and quiet spirit.”

  “I know that one. My mother liked that one a lot,” Meggie said wryly. By which Becky supposed her mother quoted it to her when Meggie was growing up.

  “I’m trying, Meggie,” she said. “I really am. I want to be that kind of woman. A better woman.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing then, isn’t it?” Meggie smiled encouragingly. “You’re trying.”

  “I suppose...but I feel so...so...not me.”

  Meggie frowned, obviously puzzled. “You mean you have plans you want to push on him—or you keep wanting to strike out at him in some way? You can’t mean that?”

  “No! Of course not. I’d never.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “It’s just so hard, not being free to do the things I love.”

  “Like what?” Meggie leaned closer, placing her hand over Becky’s, such a warm, thoughtful gesture.

  If only we lived closer to each other, Becky thought. She’d like having a friend to talk to.

  “Like riding. I love to ride fast, Meggie,” she confessed. “And I’m trying so hard to be a lady.”

  “Well, I like to ride fast too. Sometimes. What’s wrong with that?”

  “I like to ride astride,” Becky clarified.

  “Me too! I hate a sidesaddle.” Meggie grimaced. “Does that mean I’m not a lady?”

  “No...of course not. I mean, it’s the way I ride.” Becky bit her lip, confused.

  Meggie pulled a thoughtful face, as if trying to work a puzzle. Becky knew the feeling. Lately, she’d felt as if a few pieces of her own puzzle were missing. Everything was so jumbled in her head.

  Had she been wrong about riding?

  It seemed too late now to go back. She’d insisted on riding sidesaddle when Isaac asked her. He’d think it strange if she changed course now. Wouldn’t he?

  Her stomach twisted in a knot. What a tangle it all was. She didn’t know ho
w to fix it.

  “I don’t think that verse means what you think it means,” Meggie said, her face clearing. As if that was all there was to it, a simple mistake.

  She obviously didn’t understand.

  Becky just looked at her, disheartened. She’d told Meggie about her troubles with Jack aboard ship, and her friend had listened. She’d hugged Becky and shared her own troubles too, how her father had been killed in the war and how her mother had needed to go live with an aunt. Those late night talks had sealed their friendship. But evidently Becky had left out some crucial details about Jack, because Meggie just didn’t seem to understand.

  Becky sighed. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have standing in the street. Isaac was about to return any minute.

  “It’s complicated,” she said at last. “Maybe someday we could sit over tea and have a chat.”

  “I’d like that.” Meggie gave Becky’s hand a pat. Becky shared a look with her, both of them realizing they wouldn’t likely have an opportunity to have tea anytime soon.

  Knowing that, Becky felt a sudden surge of urgency. She cast a quick look down the street again and back at Meggie. “I wanted to tell you...I said goodbye to Jack last night,” she whispered.

  “You did what?”

  “I know it sounds foolish, but I decided to put my memories of him to rest. Like a ceremony, you know? I think I can finally move on now. He’s married to someone else, and that’s never going to change. He’s not mine, and I’m not his. I’m hoping in time I can come to love Isaac. He’s such a good man.”

  “Then tell him so.”

  “Tell him? You mean, tell him outright—just like that?” Becky wasn’t normally shy, but there was something about Isaac. He had a way about him, sometimes hot, sometimes cold. She didn’t always know how he was going to react.

  “Go on, Becky. Tell him how you feel about him. Ask him if he’ll give your marriage a chance to grow. Who knows? Maybe things will improve between you. From what you’ve said, he sounds like a good man. Maybe you just need to clear the air between you.”

  Hearing Meggie’s words of encouragement gave Becky a surge of hope. Maybe offering Isaac her friendship and respect would soften his attitude toward her.

  “Do you think it will work?” she asked.

  “You’ll never know until you try. In any case, you may plant a seed in his mind. He’ll start thinking of the possibilities... I know it.” Meggie gave Becky’s hand a final pat for emphasis.

  Will walked up to then. After an introduction from Meggie and an exchange of greetings, he climbed up next to his bride. He seemed a quiet young man. Practical. Hard-working. He wasn’t talkative by any stretch, but he had kind eyes, which Becky found reassuring. As the worn wagon trundled off down the road, Meggie turned around in her seat and waved. Then she folded her hands in prayer, lifting them high for Becky to see.

  Her message was clear: she was going to pray for her.

  Becky’s eyes smarted with tears. She definitely needed her friend’s prayers. Waving back, Becky watched until the wagon disappeared over the crest of a hill. Blotting her eyes on the cuff of her sleeve, she entered the general store.

  Isaac had left her with instructions to collect any supplies she needed for herself, mentioning fabric specifically, to her surprise, and groceries for the kitchen. Thinking he might need new clothes himself, she selected a length of red cotton for a summer work shirt, denim for new trousers, a couple of spools of thread, and some white linen for new underthings for herself. She then collected a selection of canned goods, along with sugar, flour, and other necessities for the pantry. She’d just finished arranging her purchases on the counter when Isaac strode through the front door and came to her side. He looked over her selection with a slight frown.

  “I don’t really need the linen,” she hurriedly said and picked it up to return it to the shelf.

  His hand covered hers, and he gently guided her to drop the fabric onto the counter with the other things she’d set aside to purchase.

  “It’s fine. I want you to get everything you need.”

  After scanning the counter again, he walked over to the display of cloth and took down a couple of bolts of cotton fabric: a cheerful yellow one and a creamy white one with sprigs of green leaves and vines. He laid them on the counter and, after getting her nod of approval, had the clerk cut a nice long yardage of each.

  “How are you for soaps and such?”

  She felt her cheeks grow warm at the somewhat personal question. “I could use some.”

  “Get what you need.”

  She could hear him instruct the clerk to box their purchases while she selected her toiletries. As she picked out what she needed from the limited assortment, she gulped at the prices. Isaac was spending an awful lot of money on things for her today.

  She stepped up to the counter and handed her personal items to the clerk to be wrapped in paper and added to the boxes.

  “I really don’t need this much.”

  Isaac ignored her protest and lifted a box under each arm. “Could you get the door?”

  “Of course.” She rushed over to prop it open for him and called her thanks to the clerk. Scurrying after Isaac, she helped him arrange the boxes on the skid hitched to his bay. Her gaze caught and held on a plain brown package lying on top of one of the crates. Not recognizing it, she puzzled over its contents. With a shrug, she accepted Isaac’s assistance to mount Siren and followed him on the long trip back up the mountain. The whole way, she wished she’d never told Isaac she rode sidesaddle.

  ***

  Isaac waited until after supper that night to present Rebecca with his gift. He didn’t know what had prompted him to buy it for her.

  “This is for you.” He pushed their plates aside and laid the package on the table in front of her. He’d kept it under his chair the entire time.

  “What’s this?” Her voice held a note of suppressed excitement. Her fingers traced the surface of the brown paper, her face lit with curiosity.

  “See for yourself.”

  She flashed him an uncertain smile and untied the knot in the twine. Pulling back the paper, she gasped in wonder as she revealed the small Bible inside.

  “A Bible?”

  “I noticed how you liked reading mine in the morning.”

  “You noticed.” Her simply spoken reply held a hint of question. Her eyes were bright and watery.

  “Not tears again?” he begged.

  “Thank you, Isaac.” She clasped the Bible to her chest, hugging it close, like a child with a beloved doll. “Thank you.”

  Her sincere thanks moved him, and he felt an uncomfortable burning in his own eyes, realizing he’d bought it as a farewell gift. Unable to bring up the unpleasant topic of her leaving just yet, he resolved to tell her in the morning.

  Later, as he prepared for bed, he remembered how Rebecca had sat at the table for hours poring over the pages of her new Bible, how she’d meet his eyes now and then and smile one of those bright smiles of hers, the ones that warmed his insides. She appreciated the Good Book more than anyone he’d ever known. He sat in bed propped against the wall with the covers pulled up to his chest. He was reading a few pages of scripture himself when Rebecca’s soft feminine voice made him sit up straighter.

  “Isaac?”

  “Yes, Rebecca?”

  He couldn’t have been more surprised when she pushed aside the potato-sack curtain and poked her head hesitantly around the edge.

  “May I speak with you?”

  He cleared his throat and tried to sound offhand. “Of course.”

  She perched on the edge of his pop’s empty bed. As she settled on the lumpy mattress, he took in the crisp white cotton nightgown she wore, noticing how it was gathered in a bow at her neck, how the cloth fell loosely about her. She propped her heels on the bedrail and tucked her feet quickly under the folds of material with one hand, hugging her Bible to her stomach with the other. Only her dainty little toes peeked out fro
m under the hem. Covered neck to toe in white, she seemed again like an innocent bride on her wedding night.

  He shook off that image. She was in love with another man, he reminded himself.

  “Isaac.” She started hesitantly and stopped. She moistened her lips as if she were nervous and took a deep breath.

  “What is it?” he asked, her anxiety making him anxious too.

  “Isaac, I’d like to talk with you about something.”

  He nodded mutely.

  “The past couple of weeks...” Her words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. She cleared her throat and continued, “The past couple of weeks, I’ve come to like and respect you. I know we got started the wrong way, but I’d like to try to set it to rights. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I know you only married me out of respect for your father—”

  “I—” He sat up straighter. He wanted to deny it, but that wouldn’t be the truth, and she interrupted him anyway.

  “Wait. Could I please say my piece?” she asked softly, fingering the thick reddish-gold braid that was draped over her shoulder and fell to her waist.

  He nodded and sank back against the wall.

  “Your reasons for marrying me and my reasons for marrying you seem moot now. We’re married. And, well, I’d like to make the best of it. We have the start of a friendship, I think.” She paused and waited for his brief nod before going on, “Can we build on that, do you think?”

  “And what about this Jack fellow?” He forced his voice to remain level, but his heart started pumping fiercely in his chest. “Do you have it in your heart to—to try to make amends with the man?” He set his Bible on the old trunk next to his bed and crossed his arms over his chest. Looking over at her, he noticed how quiet she was, not moving, not even seeming to breathe as she watched him with a wide-eyed expression.

  “Jack?” she whispered, clearly alarmed that he would mention the man. “No. There’s no making amends with Jack, not ever. He’s married. There was...it ended up there was someone else. Another woman. And a baby on the way. So, no. There’s no ‘making amends’ with Jack. He’s married now, and I’m a married woman now too.” She looked at him searchingly, as if wondering how he—Isaac— could have forgotten such an important detail. “What I wanted to say is I have every intention of being a good wife to you, Isaac Jessup, but I need to know if you want me for a wife?”