A Bride for Dwight, page 8
part #39 of The Proxy Brides Series
As their eyes locked again, he acknowledged deep within his soul that he was attracted to this woman to whom he was married. More attracted than he’d ever been to a woman in his life. An attraction that was as far from the revulsion he felt toward Penelope Haldeman as the east was from the west.
The mystery was…no, there were several mysteries, he mused as they stood, frozen, acutely aware of one another. First—what was this girl’s story? He knew she was with child by a man his sister had labeled a blackguard—which means Pebs knows who he is—and he was obviously someone Mary hadn’t wished to discuss. The thought had occurred before and now it was rearing its ugly face once more…had the man forced himself on her? She had emphatically declared that she wasn’t a loose woman and that she hated subterfuge. If the man had, indeed, attacked her, forcefully taken her innocence, and left her with child…the thought made Dwight’s hands automatically curl into tight fists in want of connecting with the cur’s face.
Second—who was the man? Where was the man? Was there a chance that he would come back into Mary’s life, or the baby’s life, and if so—would she welcome him? Would he come and try to make trouble for them?
Third—how was she feeling and what was she thinking? Could she be feeling an attraction toward him as well? He’d never given a large amount of thought to appraising his appearance—he wasn’t one of those vain mirror gazers who checked his hair and straightened his clothing every time he passed a looking glass—but he felt confident that he wasn’t a bad looking fellow. Although he’d never been in love, he’d had a few girlfriends, so he knew the ins and outs of romancing a woman… Well, maybe he could use a few pointers in that regard, but still, he wondered if Mary truly felt an aversion to the man who was the father of her child, or if she was harboring an affection toward him. If so…did Dwight even stand a chance with her?
At that moment, before he fled the room to go placate his sisters, he gave Mary his most sincere smile and mumbled, “Guess I’d better go see what she wants. Sisters, you know.”
A sad look came into her eyes, but she merely allowed a slight nod to send him on his way.
As he headed down the hall, he determined he would learn each and every one of his proxy bride’s secrets—and explore this attraction that might possibly bloom into something much more. And he would do it without either of them getting hurt in the process.
He was up for the challenge.
Oh my goodness, what just happened?
Mary brought a trembling hand up to smooth her hair back as she moved a few steps to lower herself down onto the bed. She pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart was galloping like a racehorse toward the finish line.
Dwight almost kissed me! I know he was about to! If his sister hadn’t called out to him at just that moment, he would’ve pressed his lips to mine, sure as the sun rises in the east…
A shiver of pure nerves rippled down her body from head to toe. What had she gotten herself into? And oh, why did he have to be so doggone gorgeous? That wavy, brown hair, swept back off his forehead, and that widow’s peak like an arrow pointing to those honey brown eyes of his, so warm and yet so intense as they sought and held her gaze, she hadn’t been able to look away.
Could he see how much he was affecting her? It was as if she couldn’t hide her feelings from him, no matter how hard she might try. She shook her head ruefully. Oh, I’m gonna to have to be careful around him—a girl could sure lose her heart to Mr. Dwight Christiansen, and then where would I be? I’d be up the river without an ounce of steam to even run the calliope, much less the paddle wheel! That’s where I’d be—floating downstream like a log heading for the falls…
Hearing the laughter of the girls from down the hall, Dwight’s voice, and the voice of their mother, Mary turned her head toward the doorway and listened. A soft smile lit her face. They sounded so happy together. Pauline and Dwight had such a close family; something Mary had always wished for.
Sure, Papa and Hank loved me and I loved them. But, for us it seemed to always be about making ends meet, getting them off to work, doing the washing, mending, cooking…we hardly ever just sat around together enjoying life… And now, they’re both gone… What will the future be like for me, once the baby gets here, Dwight leaves, and I’m alone to raise my child…
Squeezing her eyes shut and holding up a hand as if to physically stop the bombarding thoughts, she reminded herself that she was not alone anymore. She was a child of God now, and she could pray for help. So, bowing her head, she whispered, “I’m sorry for agreeing to lie, God. Please help everything work out. And please…help me not to be hurt, or hurt anyone else. Amen.”
Taking a slow, deep breath and resolutely shaking off her sudden melancholy, she glanced around her room and spied Dwight’s portmanteau on the floor by the wardrobe. Before she could think much about it, she rose from the bed and walked to it, wondering if she should go ahead and put his things away, like a wife would...
Pauline came down the hall just then and stuck her head in the door. “The twins are having so much fun with that trundle bed,” she laughed. “I’d forgotten how much I missed my little sisters. Children always find joy in the smallest things.” Coming into the room, her friend glanced down to see what held Mary’s attention and spied her brother’s portmanteau.
“That’s my brother, always leaving his things lying around,” she chided with a fond shake of her head. “I don’t envy you, my friend, cleaning up after him.”
Mary looked over at her as the sudden urge to defend him shot forth with surprising speed. “Oh, well…he was called away—by Faith.”
Pauline laughed again. “Yeah, DJ’s always been good at finding something else to do when there are chores to be done.” Then, flashing a smile at Mary, she added, “But then, Mama never did make him do laundry or cook. So, there you go,” she shrugged as she opened up his bag and handed the first thing she saw to Mary. It was a shirt. “And to be fair,” she continued, “he always took care of the manly chores—most of the time without being reminded.”
Mary took the shirt and shook out the folds before hanging it in the wardrobe. She couldn’t resist taking a small, surreptitious sniff of the lingering scent of his cologne that hung on the material. Finally, one article after another was put away, although the girls left Dwight’s shaving kit and personal care items in the bag for him to decide where to store them. They also found, crammed in a bottom corner, a small sack of dirty clothes he had no doubt worn on the train.
Pauline then excused herself and left, saying that she had made a date to have lunch with her husband, Tobias. Mary, the sack in one hand, was just setting the portmanteau down on the floor when Dwight, much like his sister, stuck his head back into the room.
He looked at the open door of the wardrobe and noted his clothing was hanging neatly in order, and his eyes shot to hers with surprise.
“You put my things away?” he asked, his voice low and tinged with a tiny bit of awe.
Truthfully, Mary didn’t know if she would have been so bold as to take that duty upon herself if Pauline hadn’t initiated it, in spite of the fact that she had always done the same for her brother and her father. Somehow, the reality of handling her brand-new husband’s undergarments, socks, and personal things had made her face blush scarlet—and her friend had giggled at her discomfort. Now, as Dwight’s knowing eyes held hers, she felt her face pinken again. He’s imaging me handling his unmentionables. Good gravy!
Casting around for something to say to extract herself from the awkward moment, Mary sputtered, “Um…have your mother and sisters settled in?”
Dwight sent her that grin that made his dimple deepen and shook his head. “I’m on my way now to get their trunk out of the wagon. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Then, before she could answer that, he was gone from the doorway.
She listened to his footfalls as he went down the steps and heard the front door open and close.
Once again, she moved over to the four-poster bed and plopped down on it.
What have I gotten myself into? And how will I stop myself from falling for this man…my proxy husband?
Lord, help!
Chapter 7
D wight put down his fork and raised his napkin to his lips before asking, “So, Doc, I’ll be looking for a job and I’m wondering if you have any leads on something I could do for the duration of my time here.”
Doc looked down the table at Dwight, who had been seated at the opposite end. Pearl had graciously accepted the seat to the doctor’s right side, all the better to see her handsome son-in-law, Tobias, across the way. Pauline, Livvy, and the twins had filled up the chairs therein—leaving Mary ensconced beside her husband.
Pursing his lips, Doc Reeves studied him for a moment before asking, “Where do your talents lie, son? I know you are quite adept at driving, but do you have other experience? What strikes your fancy?”
Dwight leaned back in his chair; taken by surprise. He’d expected a short answer along the lines of, “Sam at the lumber mill is always looking for workers…” But the doc had asked a question that made him have to stop and think. What did strike his fancy as a vocation? He hadn’t thought of doing anything other than manual labor while residing in Brownville.
Pondering, he realized it had been such a long time since he’d allowed himself to think about his future…not since his father had died to be precise. However, now he could let his squelched dreams peek out of the box in which he had shoved them the day he had left his college classes and taken a job as a cabbie. The day he’d stepped up to take his father’s place as the man of the house. To his shame, that had not worked out too well. It still rankled his pride that his mother had been forced to take a job outside the home.
Swallowing a bit nervously, his eyes met his mother’s for a second before refocusing on the man at the end of the table.
“To be honest, sir…I used to have my heart set on becoming an attorney.”
Doc’s slow smile softened the worry lines on his face and he gave a thoughtful nod, the wheels obviously turning. Finally, he reached for another cornbread muffin from the covered basket and answered.
“I’ll speak to David Mincer. He just might have an idea for you. His practice is keeping him quite busy and…” he paused, “well, before I say more, let me have a chat with him.”
Dwight couldn’t believe his ears! His heart sped up. Could it be? Could he really take those old goals out of the box, dust them off, and see about resurrecting them as a reality? The idea was almost staggering. To sweeten his appeal, he added, “I was into my second year at the university in Louisville before I had to leave. All of my professors said I had bright prospects ahead—”
“He received perfect marks on all of his exams. My boy was always a good student,” his mother proclaimed, bringing him to the verge of blushing as every head at the table swung his way with interest.
“Well, not perfect on every exam, Mother,” he mumbled.
“Fiddlesticks,” Pearl, always his number one supporter, countered with a twinkle in her eye. “Yes, you did, because all of my children are bright.”
“That’s true,” Livvy quipped with one finger in the air and a cheeky grin.
Everyone at the table chuckled, thereby taking the heat off of Dwight. He gave Doc Reeves an appreciative smile and resumed eating what was truly the best vegetable soup he’d ever had—darned if Wanda Mae wasn’t telling the truth!
His mother then turned her attention back to their host. “Cornelius, Brownville is such a quaint little town. Have you always lived here?”
The doc swallowed a bite of food and smiled at Pearl as he shook his head. “I agree, it is a nice town, but no, I was born in Des Moines, Iowa,” he offered with a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. Seeing interest on the faces of those at the table, he continued, “I obtained my medical degree at the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery in Ohio—class of ’52. My late wife and I met there; she worked in her father’s café near the college. She and I kept company during my schooling, and we courted longer than most, as I felt strongly—or rather, my pride demanded—that I establish my practice before I took on a wife and all of the responsibilities that entails.”
Something in his expression stayed Dwight’s attention. There was a sort of fleeting, haunted look to the good doctor as if he’d seen and done a great many things in his medical career. After his mother’s next question, Dwight knew he was right.
“Were you called up to serve as a physician in the war, Cornelius?” Pearl asked gently.
Their host cleared his throat and inclined his head in the affirmative. “I was. Exactly nine years to the day into my medical career.” With a rueful smile, he shook his head. “I had been sharing an office with a colleague and had only just obtained a place to set up a practice of my own when I was conscripted. I served under Dr. Charles Rawson in the Fifth Iowa Infantry for several years during the conflict. Blessedly, I mainly treated injuries and illnesses, while Dr. Rawson handled most of the…” he cleared his throat again, “amputations. By the end of the war I had reached the rank of captain.” He looked around his dining room table at the rapt faces giving him their full attention and added baldly, “I’m not ashamed to say that when the news of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox reached us, I got down on my hands and knees and thanked the Almighty—and then prayed that I never see another battlefield again as long as I live.”
“Amen,” the adults at the table agreed, exchanging heartfelt glances and nods.
Dwight noticed the twins exchange looks before Grace voiced their shared query, “Mama, who’s Lee…and who’s Happy Matticks?”
When everyone chuckled at her innocent, sweetly worded question, she looked down with pink cheeks.
Glancing over at Mary, Dwight saw her smiling fondly toward the girls and his heart warmed as Pauline answered for Pearl, “General Robert E. Lee was the commander of the Confederate States Army during the War Between the States, honey. He was the one who finally realized that the war had gone on long enough and made the decision to bring it to an end—to surrender on behalf of the Confederate States—and he did so at a small town in Virginia, named Appomattox,” she explained in what Dwight had always thought of as her teacher’s voice. “You’ve studied the war in school, right?” The girls both nodded. “Well, General Lee’s wise decision to surrender to General Ulysses S. Grant, the commander of the Union’s forces, finally brought an end to the long, devastating war. A war that the women and children on both sides were very thankful to see come to an end.”
Doc Reeves smiled at Pauline and raised his coffee cup toward her. “Well said, my dear.”
“The majority of the soldiers—on both sides—felt the same way, I imagine,” Dwight’s brother-in-law, Tobias, added. The others at the table nodded as they continued their meal.
Doc took a long drink, seemingly gathering his thoughts before beginning again, “To make a long story shorter…after my discharge from the service, my wife and I decided to move out west to where physicians were in shorter supply. Our steamboat docked here in June of ’66 to take on fuel for her boilers. We fully intended to continue on our journey, but we fell in love with the town, the people, and the atmosphere…” with a small shrug, he added, “We started building our home a year later.”
“It’s a lovely home,” Pearl observed, with everyone seconding the remark.
“Tell them the story you told me about the house, Doc,” Mary suddenly requested, having been silent throughout the meal thus far. Dwight turned his head, taking in her countenance, and watched as she sat smiling at her generous benefactor. Idly, he found himself feeling a tiny spark of jealousy that she was directing that captivating smile at someone else. At that thought, he gave his head a quick shake and focused on the doctor’s answer.
Doc Reeves chuckled a bit and took another sip of his coffee as he looked around at their interested expressions.
“What Mary is referring to is that this house has not always stood on this plot of ground.”
“I beg your pardon?” Pearl asked, exchanging glances with Tobias and Pauline.
Tobias laughed and brought his napkin up to wipe at his lips. “I couldn’t believe it when I first came back to town. I remember watching the house being built—at its original location. And all of the times my sisters or I ended up in your office for a broken arm or some kind of malady. Never thought I’d come back to see nothing but a bare plot of ground there.”
Doc grinned toward the charismatic deputy and then addressed Pearl. “You see, I had originally obtained a half acre plot—at an amazingly good price—on Levee Street, right on the river. The land had a little rise to it, and my wife and I felt it would offer exquisite views of the magnificent steamboats plying the river. We began building, but just as the outer shell was finished, the rains began.” He shook his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Well, needless to say, the river rose and we found out in a hurry why our plot of land had been so cheap.”
“Oh no!” Pearl and Livvy chorused.
The older man nodded, his expression one of hard-won wisdom. “Once the water receded, the workmen repaired what the flood had damaged, and then they built a sort of levee, three feet tall, around the perimeter of the land. All of the locals assured me that as long as they had been residents of Brownville, the water had never risen that high and we would be safe. So, we built, and for several years we were high and dry. We enjoyed our home. The house had an upper veranda then, and often we took our meals out there so we could watch the never-ending river activity.”
“It sounds enchanting,” Pearl commented.
“That it was.” Doc took a drink of his coffee as he reminisced. “A few close calls did happen with some water sneaking in the main floor, but we survived those. However…then came July of ’77,” he hesitated, obviously remembering the date well. “As a result of the encroaching Missouri, Florence and I were forced to move out of our fine residence on the levee for the duration of the high water—that was when we decided we’d had enough. So, I hired workmen to tear down the house and rebuild it here, brick by brick—plenty far enough away from that darned old, pesky river,” he chuckled.
