Читать книгу Please Love Me - Kimberly Tanner Gordon - Страница 5

Margaret waited as other passengers went about their way. At last, she was the only woman left standing on the platform. Where was Russell Chadwick? Had he changed his mind? A bead of sweat slid down her back. Margaret was not only nervous, but also very hot.

“Are you Miss Roe?” a male voice asked from behind.

Margaret spun around. A young man in his early twenties stood before her, hat in hand. He was tall and thin with blond hair and tan skin from working hours in the sun. A light brown mustache topped his upper lip.

Margaret nodded nervously. “Yes. Are you Mister Chadwick?” she replied.

He extended his hand in greeting. “Yes. How do you do?”

Margaret smiled, noticing his green eyes and attractive build. He was more handsome than all her daydreams had envisioned. “I am well, thank you.”

He looked a little nervous and shifted from foot to foot. Russell searched his mind for something to say. He had rehearsed the entire morning. How surprised he was to see such a healthy young beauty waiting to be his wife. He had expected her to be grossly unattractive. Why else would she be willing to become a mail order bride? It would have to mean that her prospects at home were either slim or non-existent.

“Uh, did you have a nice trip?” he managed to say.

“It was pleasant. Thank you.” Margaret wondered why such a good looking man would send for a mail order bride. Surely he could find a nice young lady in town. He was so young too. Most men didn’t want to be married at twenty-two. And it was so much more socially acceptable for a man to be single at that age than it was for a woman.

After an awkward moment of silence, Russell asked, “Is that your bag?”

Margaret nodded. “It is.”

“How many trunks do you have?”

“None.”

The man seemed genuinely surprised. This woman, covered with volumes of yellow material and lace, appeared as though she would come complete with trunks full of fancy dresses. He was a bit thankful at the news though, for there was little need for pretty clothes on a farm. It required hard work from sun up to sun down.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, grabbing her single baggage.

“Ready as ever,” she tried to answer lightly.

Margaret followed as Russell led the way to his wagon. After placing her bag inside, he assisted her onto the seat. Climbing up, he said, “We’ll go straight to the Reverend first.”

She was surprised and said so. “So quickly?”

He looked at her frankly. Margaret was slightly uncomfortable staring into the depths of his green eyes. “If we’re sleeping under the same roof tonight, we’ll do it right. I’ll have no one snickering behind our backs,” he explained, flicking the reins.

Margaret blushed to the tops of her ears. Of course they would have to get married right away. She had heard about what happened on the wedding night, but honestly, he didn’t have to put it so bluntly. They had only just met. At least he was a moral man…

As they rode through town, Russell tipped his hat to everyone they passed. Each person stared in wonder. Margaret surveyed the community; it was larger than she had expected. There were dozens of official business looking buildings, and dozens of homes. She could smell suppers cooking from kitchens. It made her hungry. Past the town, Margaret could see fields of grasses and oak trees that dotted the landscape.

“How far is it to your home?” she asked, making small talk.

He pointed south. “About five miles that way, along the Iowa River.”

“What’s your place like?”

“Run down right now,” he confessed with a sigh. “I just bought it back in April. All I’ve had time to do is work in the field.”

Margaret said nothing, waiting for more information.

“There’s about twenty-five square miles in all. The house overlooks the river.”

“It sounds lovely,” Margaret answered with a smile. After this information, she grew more excited about her new home.

Russell brought the buggy to a stop in front of a small pretty cottage. Flowers reached for the sun beside a short picket fence. “This is Reverend Grady’s place. You’ll like his wife,” he assumed with confidence.

Russell reached for Margaret’s waist, assisting her from the wagon. They walked up to the door and knocked. Margaret’s knees were practically knocking too. She was so nervous, not only about the marriage, but also about tonight.

“You’re here!” a pretty woman exclaimed as she opened the door. “Jack, Mister Chadwick is here with his bride,” she hollered back into the house. “Come in, come in. Welcome!” she greeted them. “How do you do?” she asked and extended her hand to Margaret. “I’m Susan Grady.”

Margaret extended her hand. Susan Grady seemed very kind. Her abdomen stuck out heavy with child. “I’m Margaret Roe,” she returned. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Susan returned her smile and looked at Russell. “Mister Chadwick, what a beauty you’ve captured.”

Margaret was very embarrassed by having this said in front of Russell. She was not at all used to kind words or compliments. She looked toward the floor quickly and noticed Susan’s bare toes sticking out from beneath her skirt. She soon forgot her embarrassment at the amusement.

Another man entered the room. “Good to see you, Russell. Right on time too,” he said looking at the clock on the wall.

“Hello Jack,” Russell greeted, obviously friends with this man. They shook hands. “Jack, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Margaret Roe, my intended.”

“How do you do, miss?” the Reverend asked in a friendly tone.

With a shaky voice, Margaret answered, “Very well, thank you.”

Reverend Grady cleared his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked the couple. He then grabbed a Bible resting on a nearby table. He opened the well-worn pages and began reading from Ephesians, chapter five. When the verses were complete, he began the wedding vows.

Margaret felt like she was in a dream. She spoke her vows when instructed. Russell spoke his in return. It was over quickly and efficiently. There were no rings involved.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the Reverend announced. He gave Russell a wide grin. “You may kiss your bride now.”

Margaret gulped. She looked at Russell. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch was very light. Margaret closed her eyes as his face came near. This was the moment she had thought of a thousand times. Her first real kiss.

Russell leaned forward and placed a respectable kiss on Margaret’s cheek. After the brief touch, Margaret opened her eyes. Was that it? She was greatly disappointed that he had not given her a real bridal kiss. Maybe he was just too shy to kiss her in front of the Revered and his wife. That had to be it.

Susan Grady giggled with delight. As best as she was able with her large stomach, she gave Margaret a warm hug. “Congratulations!” she spoke lively. “You’ve got the best bachelor in the county.”

Forgetting her disappointment, Margaret smiled. “Thank you, Missus Grady.”

“Oh, call me Susan. I hope we will be good friends,” the kind wife said happily. Susan brought her hands up to her mouth. “I almost forgot. Wait here.”

Russell and Jack chatted freely while Margaret waited for Susan to return. The wait was brief. Susan emerged from the adjacent kitchen carrying a large basket. “I have supper all ready for you. I knew you wouldn’t have time to fix anything,” she explained.

Margaret took the basket. “Oh, Susan, thank you so much. How thoughtful you are.” Margaret was glad that she had a friend already. It eased her anxiety about the decision to leave Cincinnati.

“We better be going,” Russell said to his friend.

“Missus Chadwick, are you ready?” he then asked politely.

Margaret looked to Susan, then to her new husband. “Yes, Mister Chadwick, I am.”

Russell took the heavy basket from her arms and led the way back to their wagon. Again, he helped her onto the bench. “See you Sunday,” he called out to the Gradys. “Thanks for the meal, Susan.” With that, he slapped the reins, made a noise in his mouth, and the horses were off.

The sun was still well above the horizon, but the air was not as warm as it had been on the train. Margaret took a deep breath. “The air smells so good and fresh out here, not like in the city.”

Russell smiled. “Wait ‘till it rains. That’s when it smells the best.”

Margaret returned her gaze to the countryside. She saw several houses, some planted fields and open grasslands. The land was very beautiful with gentle rolling hills and large shady oak trees. The river flowed by quietly, glimmering in the sun.

“Missus Chadwick, I’m wondering, are all your dresses that, uh…frilly?” he asked.

Margaret looked down to the floorboards. If only he knew she was still wearing her work boots beneath this dress. He would not have asked that question. “You can call me Margaret, or Maggie, if you like,” she suggested.

“Alright Margaret, do you have any practical clothing?” he rephrased his question.

“Yes. This is my only pretty dress.”

Russell’s sigh was a little too obvious. “That’s good,” he answered. “You wouldn’t want to ruin all your clothes on a muddy farm.”

Margaret wasn’t sure how to take his comment. He had not exactly complimented her at all about the dress, or her appearance. His question hurt her feelings. They continued on in silence for quite some time. Maybe it’s just nerves, Margaret thought. He probably didn’t mean anything by it.

Russell sat brooding as his wagon rolled on. He could kick that man at the agency in Chicago for sending such a pretty girl. It was not at all what he had wanted. He’d needed a sturdy, hard-working, ugly woman to help him on the farm. It would have made his plan so much easier. Regardless, she was here, so he was determined to make the best of it.

Margaret decided to try conversation again. “What should I call you?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Do you prefer Russell, or Mister Chadwick?”

Unemotionally, he responded, “Russell is fine.”

“Very well, Russell. I just want to thank you,” she spoke boldly.

He looked at her oddly. “For what?”

Margaret gave him a small smile. “For giving me a chance at a new life.”

Russell nodded. “Think nothing of it. Say, did you get the envelope of money?”

Margaret debated telling him how she had spent it. He made such a stink over her beautiful dress only moments ago. “Yes, I did. Thank you,” was all she said.

Again, silence as they rode the last mile home. Finally, Margaret saw a small two story house in the distance. The wooden structure seemed to lack care. A barn nearby seemed as large, or larger than the house. Corn fields stood in neat rows behind the structures. The river bordered the property on the east side about two hundred feet from the house. Margaret bit her bottom lip with worry.

Russell noticed her troubled face. “I told you it was run down. The previous owner was very old and couldn’t take care of it. When I moved in, planting was my first priority,” he explained. “Right now, I’m working on the barn. It still needs a new roof. See the holes?” he asked while pointing.

He pulled into the yard, set the brake, and jumped to the ground. He walked around the wagon to help Margaret. She was staring at the house. “Welcome home, Missus Chadwick,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. After grabbing her bag, he waved one arm toward the house. “Shall I show you around?”

Margaret looked at the broken step leading to the front porch. The structure certainly needed work. They entered the door. The bottom floor was divided into two long rooms. The stairway ran up the middle. To the left was the combined dining area and kitchen. To the right was what might be considered a parlor.

“I’ll show you your room,” he spoke gently.

Margaret furrowed her brows. “My room?” she repeated.

He led the way upstairs. The landing at the top was very small. There was a door to each side. He opened the one on the left. “This is yours,” he explained. He entered and placed her bag on the bed.

Margaret entered and looked around. There was one large window on the opposite wall. The room contained a bed, dresser and washstand. The ends of the ceiling slanted toward the front and back of the house. Margaret was a bit bewildered by the arrangement.

“I know you have questions, but let’s eat first,” Russell stated. He left the room and descended the stairs.

Margaret lingered within the very plain room. It almost reminded her of the shared room in Cincinnati. At least this one was all her own, and with a little effort, she could make it nice and pretty. She walked across the bare wood floor to the window. Several oak trees protected the house and in a side yard, she saw the remnants of an old clothes line. Past that, a small graveyard sat quietly. It contained only three headstones.

“Are you coming, Margaret?” Russell called from below.

She found him waiting at the table. He had already unpacked the basket from Susan, eager to be fed. Russell offered a pleasant smile. “Susan sent a good meal. Are you hungry?”

Margaret nodded. “Actually, yes.” She took a seat at the square table.

Russell gave a brief prayer of thanks before the meal. Only half listening, Margaret said a silent prayer of her own. She prayed for courage and guidance.

“This ham looks great,” Russell spoke excitedly. He offered her a thick slice. “How many biscuits do you want?”

She looked at the big flaky rounds. “Two please.”

Russell placed two on her plate, then spooned out peas and baked apples.

“This does look wonderful. I only ate some cheese and bread on the trip today,” the new wife confessed.

Both adults dug in and ate heartily. Margaret however was unable to eat all on her plate for her corset was laced too tightly for a big meal. Russell polished off his food, then pushed the plate away.

“I guess you’re wondering about the separate rooms,” he said.

Margaret smiled timidly. “It did cross my mind.”

Russell scratched his mustache. “I just figured you would like some privacy. Since we are strangers, I don’t expect anything…like sharin’ a room. You understand?”

Margaret was floored. He was talking about… oh, she was so embarrassed. Her initial hurt about being put in a separate room was alleviated by the fact that he was giving them time to get to know one another. How very gentlemanly of him. “That’s kind of you,” she commented shyly.

“You can do what you want to your room. The whole house for that matter,” he explained. “If you want, make a list of things you need and we’ll go into town together in a few days. I’ll be out working in the field or in the barn most days until harvest,” he continued.

“When is that?” she asked.

“In about three months,” he answered. “My brother Henry will come and help with the harvest.”

Margaret’s interest was piqued. “Oh? Does he live here too?”

Russell shook his head. “No. He lives back at home.”

“Where’s that?”

Russell made a strange face. “In Wheaton, just outside Chicago.”

Margaret noticed that Russell was looking out the window wistfully. Maybe he was homesick. “Is that where your folks are?”

He continued to gaze outside. “That’s where everyone is.” He stood up quickly. “I’ve got work to do before dark.”

Margaret watched as he left without another word. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of him yet. He seemed kind enough, but there was something strange about him. He was guarded, a little distant. He had not asked her any personal questions at all and he barely looked her in the eye. Maybe he was just a little timid too. Margaret dismissed these thoughts and busied herself with cleaning the kitchen. She decided this was a big adjustment for the both of them. It would just take time.

Russell did not return until dark. By then, Margaret was exhausted from the long day. While he was away, she had taken inventory in the house. The parlor was nearly bare. None of the windows had curtains and there were no rugs on the unswept floor. Tomorrow, she would tidy up. Weary, Margaret was waiting for him in the only parlor chair.

“Are you asleep?” he spoke softly.

Margaret opened her eyes and looked at him. It was apparent he had been pitching hay. Small pieces were stuck to the sweat on his neck. His shirt was open partly, exposing soft brown curls of hair on his chest. Margaret gulped at the sight. Maybe, in a small way, she really had wanted a real wedding night. “I’m awake,” she whispered.

“This is your home now, Margaret. You can go to bed any time you want,” he explained.

“I was waiting up for you.”

He gave her a half-smile. “That’s sweet. I will probably go to bed soon myself.”

Margaret wanted to talk to him, or just be near him. She waited as he did something in the kitchen.

Russell reappeared and went to the stairwell. “Ready?” he asked.

Nodding, Margaret stood and walked to him. He allowed her to lead the way. She stopped at the small landing and turned to him. Margaret searched her mind for something to say. Maybe he would kiss her good night, on the lips.

Russell watched her shapely figure from behind. The yellow gown fit well, she was plump, but nicely so. He thought her red hair was pretty too. Under his breath, he cursed that Chicago company again. This woman was going to make it more challenging to stick to his plan. He could do it though. He could.

“Good night, Margaret. Sleep well.” Russell reached for his door.

Margaret was disappointed, but resolved her heart to be patient a little while longer. “Good night, Russell. See you in the morning.”

Crickets chirped noisily in the grasses. Margaret lay in bed trying to sleep. She took deep breaths of fresh country air coming in through the window. After a time, her troubled emotions settled and she fell into a deep sleep.

Margaret arose early. The roosters had yet to crow even and it was still dark out. But she was used to getting up early and wanted to make a good impression today. She stretched and yawned in bed as her gaze wandered around the dark room. It had potential, and thankfully, the bed was comfortable.

After splashing cool water on her face, Margaret dressed. Today there was much to be done, so she decided to wear one of the blue work dresses. Margaret spied the corset resting on the dresser. Should she wear it today? It would make it difficult to breathe and move about, but still, she wanted to look attractive for her husband. After much debate, Margaret decided to wear the devise, but not to lace it tightly. She braided her hair quickly, letting it hang down her back. That would at least keep it out of her way.

Happy to make the most of her new home, she headed downstairs. Margaret walked softly on the stairs so she wouldn’t wake her sleeping husband. She hoped to surprise him with a good breakfast. She lit a lamp and quietly snooped around. There were four biscuits left over from the night before. Spotting a small container of honey in the cupboard, she set it on the table. A tin-full of ground coffee sat on a side table. Taking a pot, she set water to boil on the stove. “Now, what else can I make,” she asked out loud. There was only so much she knew how to make. Eggs! That would be easy. Margaret grabbed a linen towel and headed out the door to the hen house.

The pink and blue sky of morning was just moving in from the east and birds sang sweet songs from their perches. An old rooster watched her from the top of the hen house, too lazy to crow. In a pen full of black mud, there were several slumbering pigs. A small breeze blew in air from the horse stalls. It was considerably strong. Margaret managed to gather four eggs, which was certainly enough for two people. She was halfway through with breakfast preparations when Russell came downstairs. He inhaled the smells of morning and smiled.

It was certainly a pleasant surprise to find Margaret hard at work. That red-haired dressed up woman of yesterday hardly seemed the type to be up and going before daybreak. He watched her as she leaned over the stove to make coffee. At least today she was wearing a sensible dress that was anything but flattering. “Good morning,” he spoke sincerely.

Startled by his voice, Margaret nearly dropped the pot of coffee. After regaining her composure, she greeted him. “Good morning, Russell.”

He tried to see past her to the stove. “What’s cooking?”

She spun around quickly to flip the food before it burned. “Eggs,” she replied. “And biscuits with honey and coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow at the sound of such a heavenly breakfast.

Margaret misinterpreted his expression. “I hope you aren’t angry that I fixed this without asking first.”

Russell attempted to calm her shaky nerves. “It’s quite all right. I want you to feel at home here. In fact, I am quite pleased that breakfast is waiting for me. I’m not used to good meals,” he admitted with a straight face.

Margaret exhaled and smiled. It was the first real compliment he had given her. She was encouraged. As they sat down to eat, she stated, “I don’t know what you’ve been eating. There’s hardly anything here.”

He shrugged. “I catch food here and there. You can see why I’m so thin,” he joked.

Margaret laughed a little. He certainly did need filling out. She began timidly, “Would it be too much to ask if I wanted to go back into town today? I would like to buy some food and staples at the store. Plus some fabric for curtains.”

Russell thought for a moment. “I have work to do this morning, but I guess I could spare the time in the afternoon. Or, if you’d rather, you could go yourself.”

She considered it. If she went by herself, she could return the basket to Susan and take her time shopping. It was a good idea. “I’ll go myself. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“That’s fine. Just gives me more time to work on that barn roof,” he answered. “I’ll leave some money for you on the table after breakfast.”

Margaret smiled her appreciation. “One more thing...where’s your broom?”

Russell swallowed the food in his mouth before answering. “Don’t have one.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows. “You mean this place hasn’t been swept in three months?” she asked incredulously.

“Longer than that actually,” he answered with a crooked grin. “It sat vacant all last winter.”

Margaret just could not believe it. No wonder. “In that case, can you spare some hay? I’d like to make a broom.”

Russell waved his hand toward the barn. “Help yourself.”

In her head, Margaret silently reviewed all the things that they needed. “Do you have pen and paper I can use?” she questioned.

“Sure. It’s in my room. I’ll get it for you,” he offered.

When Russell returned, he brought not only the pen and paper, but also twenty dollars. “Do you think this will be enough to cover expenses today?”

It was much more than she had expected. “Yes, plenty. Thank you.”

Russell sat down and resumed eating. Margaret ate and wrote out her list. She paused to ask a question. “Do you have any meat in a smokehouse?”

He shook his head. “I can butcher a hog for you, but I can’t get to it until tomorrow.”

Margaret added beef to the list. After completing her task, she began noting a list of chores that needed to be done. It dawned on her to ask Russell his expectations. “Russell, I need to know what you expect of me. Are there any specific tasks you need me to do?”

The younger man leaned back in his chair. “Take care of me and the house, Margaret. That’s all I ask really. If you like animals, you can help me every now and then. They need food, water…”

His expectations were very reasonable, although it sounded like she was just going to be a maid again. Regardless, taking care of one person was mountains easier than taking care of fifty children. She had only one more question. “Russell? Do you want me to clean your room when I clean the house?”

“Might as well. It needs it. Just don’t go through my desk, please. I’ve many personal papers in there.”

She nodded. “Certainly. I would never go through anything without your consent.”

Russell stood and stretched. “Then we’re gonna get along just fine. Breakfast was good. I’ve work to do now. Let me know when you need the wagon.” He grabbed his hat from a peg near the front door and walked out.

Margaret watched as he left without so much as a goodbye or have a nice day. He was kind enough, not cruel at least, but not too affectionate. She sighed and resolved herself to stay busy with work. There was so much that needed to be done.