Lauri Robinson - Mail-Order Brides Of Oak Grove

“It’s only for a month,” he told himself aloud. “Rex will be up and about by then.”

Or drunk as a skunk on her tonic, the other logical part of his mind pointed out.

That he’d put a stop to right now. A few other rules wouldn’t hurt, either.

Steve entered through the kitchen door, and was amazed to find the room clean. Cleaner than he’d seen it in a long time. She was efficient, he’d give her that.

Snoring from the little room off the kitchen told him Rex was sleeping. Steve made his way through the front and back parlors, his office and the front entrance way, where he stopped to stare up the staircase. It was a given she’d stake claim on one of the bedrooms, and the notion of her sleeping down the hall from him instilled an agony he’d never experienced. Except for when she’d landed on his lap back at the train station.

Flustered by the entire situation, he started up the steps. She was in the third bedroom, the one that faced east, and staring out the window. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder and she slowly dragged a brush from the crown of her head to the tips of the long strands she held in her opposite hand. If he hadn’t seen it, he wouldn’t believe how much gumption came out of that short and slender body.

Her shoulders squared at the same time she turned about.

“Do you always sneak up on people?”

Speechless for a moment, he took a second or two before he said, “No.”

“You did at the train station and again now.”

“I saw you climb into the train car and figured you were up to no good.” Her pinched lips had him asking, “Why did you tell me you were going to Denver? To meet your husband?”

Her shoulders heaved as she sighed. “What was I supposed to say?”

“The truth,” he suggested. “That you were sneaking off the train to avoid the men waiting for a chance to marry you.”

“Posh! I’m not marrying anyone.” She flayed her arms in the air. “Fine. If that’s what you want to hear. I was sneaking off the train to avoid those men. Can you blame me?”

He couldn’t. Nor could he blame himself for admitting she was probably the best-looking woman any train had ever brought to Kansas. Which made no difference to him. At least it shouldn’t. Flustered, he drew in a deep breath. Something caught inside his nose. “Do you have more of that tonic up here?”

A nervous gaze shot to the trunk at the foot of the bed before she asked, “Why? Does Rex need some?”

“No,” Steve answered, moving into the room. “He’s sleeping off what you already gave him.” Upon arriving at the foot of the bed, he reached down to flip open the trunk lid. “China, you said?”

She hurried forward, but he’d already lifted the lid. A large corked crock and several bottles—too many to count—were packed securely in straw. The smell was stronger, and although he hadn’t smelled it in years, he clearly recalled what the wine his grandfather used to make back in Georgia smelled like.

She pushed his hand off the lid and gently closed it. “You have no right to go snooping in my things.”

“That’s a trunk full of wine, and it’s in my house, so I’m not snooping.”

“Your house or not, the trunk is mine.” Planting her hands on her hips, she continued, “And while I’m here, this room is mine and you’ll stay out of it.”

He held his stare, all the while wanting to shake her. Ask her why she’d ever felt the need to agree to be a mail-order bride. “While you’re here, you’ll take orders from me. And I order you to dump it out.”

“I will not.”

“Then pack up your stuff,” he said, gesturing to the few things lying on the dresser.

“Why?”

“Because I’m taking you to town.” Ignoring the pang that shot across his stomach, he said, “Chris and Danny Sanders will give you a job peddling alcohol at their saloon. You’re already good at that.”

A flicker of fear crossed her face, but then she crossed her arms. “And who’ll cook for your men? You?” The smile that appeared on her lips was full of conceit. “We’ve made a deal, shook on it. I never go back on my word, and I wouldn’t think a man of your stature would, either.”

Steve’s back teeth clenched. She had him over a barrel, and knew it. He never went back on his word. Her knowing that was enough to infuriate him, but it was another feeling he couldn’t ignore. That of how her flushed cheeks and pursed lips made him want to kiss her like he hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in years. Tossing aside that thought took will. Deep will. “My men expect three meals a day, morning, noon and night. Good meals. Their clothes washed once a week, the bunkhouse swept and mopped weekly, and this house kept clean.”

“I already agreed to all that.”

She was so smug he searched his mind to come up with other chores. When none appeared, he said, “And there will be no more of your tonic. Not for Rex or anyone else.”

* * *

Mary squeezed her fingers tighter around the brush handle. She should be mad enough to pitch it across the room, but it wasn’t anger she fought to control. It was how he’d looked at her. How his eyes had settled on her lips so completely it made them tingle—just like her insides had when she’d fallen onto his lap back at the train station.

With lightning speed, she crossed the room and shut the door. Her heart was pounding so hard she laid a hand against her chest and the other over the flock of butterflies swarming in her stomach.

Why did he make her insides go so crazy? Even while he yelled at her, ordering her to dispose of the tonic, all she could think of was how the other women on the train had been right. That the cowboys in Kansas were a handsome lot.

“Aw, fairy dust,” she muttered. How could someone in her predicament have such thoughts? Perhaps because despite his handsomeness and her other cauldron of silly thoughts, this was rather a perfect solution for her situation. Not only would she gain finances, she could stock up on her supply of tonic while here. There had been honey and jam in the larder downstairs, which meant there must be more where they came from. Rather than train tickets for her and Maggie, maybe she’d buy another horse and wagon like Da. They’d traveled all over Ohio and Pennsylvania with Buck pulling their wagon.

She and Maggie could do that again. Travel about, selling tonic until they found a suitable place to settle. Perhaps a place with cowboys as handsome as Steve Putnam.

Telling herself that was a marvelous plan, she changed into her nightdress and climbed into the bed that had to be one of the softest and largest she’d even lain in.

Sleep came as quickly as the sunrise. She’d chosen this room just for that purpose, so the first rays of the rising sun would wake her. Although she didn’t like how he turned her inside out—for no one had ever done that to her before—she would not let Steve find fault in anything she did. It would be a challenge, she couldn’t deny that. The only people she’d cooked for were her family. Da had always been in such a hurry, off here or there, he’d rarely said if what he’d eaten was good or not, and as long as Maggie hadn’t had to prepare it, she hadn’t cared what she ate.

A wave of sadness washed over Mary as she folded back the covers and flipped her legs over the edge of the bed. That had been the first night she’d slept without Maggie nearby. Even on the train, while mad at each other, they’d settled down next to each other come nightfall.

Rising, she walked to the window and hoped that wherever Maggie was she was safe and knew they’d soon be together. Despite their differences, they were sisters, twins, and always would be.

Watching the rays of sunlight growing brighter, Mary decided she’d find a way to get a message to Maggie, just to assure her sister all would be well soon. But first, she had a bunch of men to feed. The task wasn’t all that daunting, though. Between Steve’s outdoor root cellar and the kitchen pantry, there was more food than she’d seen in some shops.