Janet Dean - The Substitute Bride

Robby had been six when Mama died. Even though Martha had taken care of her brother when Mama took sick, Robby had cried for his mother. Rose’s death had to be even more traumatic for Ted’s daughter.

“Henry’s fourteen months. All he cares about are his meals and a soft lap.” He lifted a brow. “That is, if you’re one to cuddle a baby.”

She’d cuddled Robby. No problem there. Besides, a lap meant sitting and from all Ted’s talk about work, sitting sounded good. “I’ll have a lap anytime he needs one—at least when you’re not available.”

“As long as you’re gentle with my children, you have no need to worry about overstepping. I’ll expect you to mother them whether I’m in the fields or in the house.”

Elizabeth suspected little ones cared not a whit about who you were, how much you owned or where you came from. Long as they had that lap and a ready meal.

But cooking, well, she hoped Ted and his children had low expectations, bottom-of-a-burned-pan low.

Approaching a house near the road, a dog barked a greeting, leaping along the bank as they passed. Inside, people gathered around the table. Good people who lived by the toil of their hands. Not trying to make money without working for it like Papa had, and losing most every time.

Still, as furious as Papa’s gambling made her, she still loved him. He was an affectionate, jovial, handsome man who had a gift with words. In that careless manner of his, he loved her, too, and was probably worried about her now.

Tears pricked at her eyes. She’d propped a note on her dresser, assuring him of her love. But love might not heal the breach she’d crossed when she’d defied him.

Her attention drifted to Ted, which didn’t do much for her peace of mind. She shifted, trying to ease the tightness between her shoulder blades. How could she relax, knowing once they reached the farm, she and her new husband would be totally alone?

Ted had made no move to touch her, other than to help her from the wagon and a polite offer of his arm. Still, they’d signed a marriage license. And surely he’d noticed that baffling attraction between them at the café.

She wrung her hands in her lap while the pie and noodles waged war in her stomach. He’d better keep his distance. They’d only scarcely met.

Desperate to end the silence between them, she said, “I don’t mean to criticize, but Mr. Sorenson’s ledger could use some organizing.”

“Sorenson has a heart of gold, not a head for bookkeeping. He asks me for advice, but can’t seem to implement it. Sometimes I think the store is too much for him.”

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. Could this be the solution for earning the money to bring Robby to New Harmony?

“We’re not far from my place.” In the gloom, Ted’s deep voice made her jump. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“I don’t frighten that easily.”

“Me, either,” he promised.

She stiffened. “You should be scared, at least of me.”

“Oh, I thought you only had a teeny temper. I’m not afraid of that.” He chuckled. “Appears my wife’s the timid one.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He tipped a finger under her chin for a brief, heart-stopping moment and then went back to the reins. “I don’t see any other wives around, do you?”

“Well, maybe I am, a little.”

He laughed. “Thank goodness, because I’m terrified of you.”

Laughter burst out of her into the clear night air. For the first time in ages she felt more in control of her situation.

She cocked her head at her new husband. “You’re a handsome man, Ted Logan. And from what I’ve seen of New Harmony, probably the most eligible male in town.”

Eligible for Chicago, too. Anywhere. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

He looked mildly uncomfortable with her appraisal. “I’m a married man, remember?”

As if she could forget.

“Why would you advertise for a wife when I suspect you could’ve had Agnes, probably a number of other women, too, by simply saying the word?”

He cleared his throat. “I thought it better to marry for convenience rather than marry someone who’d expect love.”

Obviously Ted held no illusions that this marriage would lead to love. Good. Love wasn’t her goal, either. She only wanted a happy home for Robby.

“Would you be marrying anyone if you didn’t have two children to care for?”

The reins hung limp in his hands. “No.”

“That makes you as desperate as I am.”

He flashed some teeth, pearly white in his tan face. “Reckon so. So why did you decide to take Sally’s place?”

That quickly Ted gained the upper hand. Unaccustomed to feeling out of control with beaux, too young, too old or too self-absorbed to be taken seriously, Elizabeth’s brow puckered.

“I came to Iowa to…” She took in a deep breath. “To get away from a marriage my father arranged…to a much older man, a man I couldn’t stomach marrying.”

“Why would your father insist you marry someone like that?”

“Money. The man’s rich.” She sighed. “So I ran.”

“Into marriage with me. Guess I should be flattered you consider me the lesser of two evils.”

“To be honest, I’d planned to find a job here, not a husband. But one look at the town destroyed that strategy.”

He chuckled. “No danger of getting a swelled head with you around. Not sure I’ve ever met a female like you.”

Ted’s tone held a hint of awe. Did he understand the tedium of propriety, the yearning for something she couldn’t name? “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He reached across the space between them and brushed a tendril of hair off her neck. “You know, Mrs. Logan, this marriage might just be fun.”

His wife scooted about as far from Ted as she could get without tumbling from the wagon. Not a typical bride. But then not a typical wedding, either.

He stood over six foot tall. Hard work had broadened his shoulders and strengthened the muscles in his arms, an ox of a man, some people said. Was she afraid of him?

Well, if so, she needn’t worry. He was far more afraid of this slip of a woman from Chicago. If she smelled any sweeter, he’d need to sleep in the barn instead of the children’s room, his plan for tonight.

The decision made, he felt an odd sense of relief. Elizabeth might be his wife, but she was a stranger. A charming stranger at that. She made him laugh, something he hadn’t done in far too long. And as now, he could barely tear his gaze away from the curve of her neck, her tiny waist—

“What happened to your wife?”

Her question doused his interest like a glass of cold water in his face. “Rose died of nephritis.” He tightened his hold on the reins. “Her kidneys began shutting down after Henry’s birth.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nodding an acknowledgment, he turned the horses into the lane leading up to the house, relieved to reach his farm. And avoid the topic of his deceased wife.

As they bounced over the ruts, he remembered his citified wife’s complaints about the condition of New Harmony’s streets. He made a mental note to haul rocks from the creek to level the surface after he’d finished planting.

The road curved around to the back of his house. They passed the garden plot. In the barnyard, he stopped the horses and set the brake. Tippy bounced into view, barking. Ted climbed down and gave the dog a pat.

Night was falling, putting the farm in shadow, but Ted knew every building, fence and pasture. He’d earned all this off others’ pain. A straight flush had paid for the house, a full house repaired his barn and a four of a kind had bought his livestock.

Yep, the best poker player on the Mississippi, that had been him. Not that he’d planned on being “Hold ’Em” Logan when he’d joined the crew of that riverboat.