An Angel in the Mail (Oregon Trail 2) - Page 48

She smirked. “Certainly an interesting name for it. I guess I’m confused, because who knows what kind of a background she came from? Why, it’s well known some of these brides through the mail already have husbands, or they’re running from the law. You can’t let any strange woman into your house, around your precious children. I mean, these type of women lie all the time.”

“What type is that?” Nate’s voice came out as cold as bubbling spring water. “And where are you getting your information?”

Lucy waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh, everyone knows about your mail order bride. Any woman who has to contact an agency, and travel thousands of miles to get a husband, must have major problems, or certainly something to hide.” She fluffed the ruffle on her blouse.

Nate stood, anger twisting his gut. “I suggest you refrain from repeating anything with regard to my wife. Our marriage is private, and I don’t appreciate hearing nasty gossip.” He moved around the counter and walked to the door, opening it. “Now if our ‘visit’ is over, I need to get back to work.”

Lucy’s eyes filled up, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Can’t we still be friends?” She reached out and touched his sleeve, blinking wildly so a couple tears tracked down her silken, rosy cheeks.

Nate took a deep breath. “As long as any conversations about my personal affairs are off limits. But I do have to get back to work now.”

Lucy leaned over, kissed him briefly on the lips, and turned to the door. Snapping her parasol open, she looked over her shoulder, and smiled. “Have a good day, Nate.” She opened the door with a flourish, and head held high, she left the shop.

Lucy continued to smile as she sauntered down the boardwalk. With a sky full of clouds, she didn’t need the parasol, but it looked so pretty with her outfit. She couldn’t resist carrying it, and twirled it as she strolled along.

She would break him down, of that she was certain. No one could resist her. With her looks, clothes, education, and Papa’s money, she could get anything she wanted, and she wanted Nathan Hale. And she’d already gone through enough to get him.

Never in her wildest imaginings would she gu

ess he’d take a wife while she was gone. The drab, plain woman he married had to have a history. All she needed to do was uncover it, and lay it all out for Nate. Then he’d put her aside and they could be together.

Happiness descended on Lucy as she entered the milliner’s shop, wanting to treat herself. For an hour, she terrorized Mlle. LeGrande by trying on every hat in the store, before she purchased one.

“Have it delivered. I don’t wish to carry it with me.” It always felt good to put common workers in their place.

Angel retrieved the small jar she kept above the sink that jingled with coins. She was proud of her little cache of money. After word got around the community she successfully tutored Mark, several mothers had come to her and asked if she could help their children. With school out for the summer, she scheduled her tutoring sessions at various times during the day when it fit into her daily routine.

Her lesson over, Mary Jane Emmons dropped her money in the container. The clink as it hit the other coins sounded wonderful. She contributed to the family. So far her money had bought material to make a new dress for Julia-Rose, although Nate scolded her for not using it for a dress for herself. Mrs. Darby spent time with her every day to help with the dress, and she couldn’t wait to finish it so she could proudly show the pretty yellow gingham pinafore to Nate.

Humming, she started dinner. Most days, Nate came home at noontime to eat with the family.

“Matt, come here, please,” she called from the back door to where he hoed her garden, another endeavor that filled her with pride. The boys had helped her prepare the ground, and then took turns keeping the weeds at bay. Currently she had onions, snap peas, pole beans, tomatoes, squash, and corn growing. When harvest time came, Mrs. Darby had promised to show her how to preserve the excess for winter.

Having had everything handed to her without any effort most of her life, she felt a great deal of satisfaction in doing things for herself, despite the difficulties. Every day she felt more confident, and gained stronger skills. She would never be so bold as to claim things ran smoothly, but at least the fiascos were now at a minimum. Unfortunately, she never really got the knack of cooking, but no one starved.

Matt came bounding up the stairs. “Here.” She dropped a coin into his hand. “Please go to the baker and buy a loaf of fresh bread for dinner.” That was another advantage of her tutoring. She could purchase the things she couldn’t do herself, instead of watching Nate cringe when he eyed her pitiful efforts. He was patient with her, but at times she knew she fell short of his expectations.

“Sure, can Mark go with me?”

“Has he finished his chores?”

“Yep. He was going to help me with the hoeing.”

“All right, you can both go. But don’t dawdle. Your papa will be home for dinner soon.”

Deciding a cold meal would be better in the July heat, she had prepared hard-boiled eggs, cold ham, chunks of cheese, and canned peaches for dinner. The fresh bread would round it out nicely. Since everything was ready, she picked Julia-Rose up from her play area Nate had blocked off in the parlor with small crates. She covered the baby’s curly hair with kisses and went outside to the porch and settled on the rocking chair.

She breathed deeply of the perfumed summer scents. The sun warmed her, but the air remained pleasantly cool, a rare thing for Oregon City. A slight breeze lifted the blonde curls on the little girl’s head.

When Nate walked up, Angel and Julia-Rose clapped their hands together, singing a silly baby song.

“Papa!” Julia-Rose squealed, reaching her hands out. She seemed to be saying more words every day. Nate took the baby, and smiling broadly, leaned over to give Angel a kiss.

“Well, you certainly seem happy to see us.”

He grinned, and sat alongside her. “Honey, you have no idea.”

Lucy slammed the front door of her house. Glancing in the mirror that hung over the small hall table, she removed her hat and tossed her parasol on the table.

Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical
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