"What"s his name?" Dallie pointed to Choo-choo.
Carrie told her. "It"s because the day my brother gave him to me, he sneezed many times. Do you know that since that day I don"t think he"s sneezed once?"
When Dallas didn"t laugh but nodded solemnly, Carrie felt a tug at her heart. It wasn"t right that a child as young as she was should be so serious. "There now," Carrie said. "Your hair is very tidy and what lovely hair it is, too. Would you like to look?" When she held out a silver-backed mirror, the child took it and looked at herself as though she were studying herself.
"You are very pretty," Carrie rea.s.sured her.
Dallie nodded. "But not beautiful. Not like my mother." She handed the mirror back to Carrie.
What an odd thing for a little girl to say, Carrie thought as she looked about the cold, dreary little room. "Shall we see about dinner? What is there in the house to eat?"
"Papa said that you would make dinner. He said that you knew how to cook anything in the world and that you would never let us go hungry."
Carrie smiled. "Then that"s what I"ll have to do." Standing up, she went to the single cupboard and opened the doors. Her heart sank when she saw how little there was inside. The sight of half a loaf of stale bread, three cans of peas, and nothing else made a surge of anger at Josh shoot through her. Even if she were the greatest cook in the world, she wouldn"t be able to prepare a meal with these few ingredients.
She searched the cupboard, and way in the back, she found ajar of homemade strawberry preserves. Withdrawing the jar, she smiled. "For dinner tonight we shall feast on bread and jam. I have a fat packet of China tea in my case so we shall be able to have a very elegant tea party."
"We can"t eat that," Dallas said, motioning toward the jar of jam. "Papa says that we must save them for something special. Aunt Alice made them. They were a present."
Carrie smiled. "Every day is special. There is never a day when you can"t find something to celebrate, and today, especially, there are lots of things to celebrate. I have arrived and you have a new doll and Temmie has a new toy and-"
"He won"t like for you to call him Temmie. He"s Tem and that"s all."
"Oh, I see. He"s too old to be Temmie, is that it?"
Dallas nodded solemnly.
Carrie smiled. "I"ll try to remember that he"s too old to be a Temmie. Now, let"s get the table set for dinner."
It was obvious that the child had no idea what Carrie meant by "setting the table," so Carrie set her bags on the floor and withdrew a lovely, enormous Paisley shawl. The reds and pinks of the shawl seemed to sparkle in the dull little room that was lit by a single candle set on the mantelpiece. Dallas"s eyes widened as she watched Carrie spread newspapers from a short stack by the fireplace on the table, then spread the shawl over the papers. Next Carrie began looking for clean dishes but could find none. She gave a glance at the stack of dishes in the sink but didn"t think much about them. At home, Carrie knew that dishes went out of the dining room dirty and came back clean, but she wasn"t sure what happened in between.
Since there were no clean dishes, Carrie looked in her bag and withdrew four linen handkerchiefs. "We shall have a picnic," she said as she spread them on top of the shawl then withdrew four small silver tumblers from the bag. She always carried them when traveling, because her mother said that she was never to use the communal cups that the other pa.s.sengers used.
Standing to one side, Dallas watched all of this in fascination, and after Carrie brought the silver cups from the bag, the child went to peer into the bag as though it were something from a fairy tale and contained everything in the world.
Removing her cut-crystal hairpin holder from the bag, Carrie wiped it out with a clean handkerchief and filled it full of strawberry preserves. Dallas didn"t remember ever having seen anything but jars put on the table, so this concept of putting food into pretty dishes was new to her. Carrie sliced the bread and placed it on another handkerchief in the middle of the table, then stepped back to look at the results.
"Rather pretty, don"t you think?"
Dallas could only nod. Candlelight played on the silver tumblers and the crystal of the hairpin jar, and the colors of the shawl glowed. It was the most beautiful table Dallas had ever seen. Next to this woman who said she was her new mother and the doll that Dallas was clinging to and that little dog, the table was the most beautiful thing Dallas had ever seen in her whole life.
When Dallas looked up and smiled at Carrie, Carrie smiled back.
It was at that moment that Josh and his son came back into the house, and Carrie saw that having to unload twenty-some trunks full of women"s clothes had not put Josh into a better mood.
"All of them are stacked in the shed," Josh said, his mouth rigid, his jaws clamped together. "Of course, there"s no room for the horse"s feed and the tools had to be set outside, so if it rains tonight we"re sunk, but those trunks of yours are inside, all safe and warm and protected." He looked at the table, which his son was staring at in open-mouthed astonishment. "What"s this?"
"Dinner," Carrie said proudly, waiting for him to admit that he had been wrong about her. He had promised his children their new mother would feed them dinner tonight, and that"s just what she was doing. "The children are hungry."
Without relinquishing his frown, Josh picked up the crystal jar full of jam and looked at the bread so neatly sliced and laid out on the monogrammed handkerchief. "Bread and jam," he said contemptuously. "That"s not a very good dinner for children, is it?"
Carrie glared at him, thinking that he was incapable of admitting when he was wrong. "I used what there was. No one, not even the paragon of work that you were expecting, could cook a meal from the little food that you have in this house."
"There are canned goods," Josh said, not giving an inch. "You can at least heat something from a can, can"t you? And why has the fire been allowed to die down? Why didn"t you build it up? It"s cold in here."
The children looked from Carrie to their father in consternation. He had talked to them at length about how they were to be nice to this woman who was coming to take care of them, yet he wasn"t being very nice to her at all.
Carrie just looked at Josh, refusing to reply to his accusations.
At last Josh shook his head in disbelief. "I see. You have no idea how to open a can, do you? And it"s my guess that you"ve never so much as thrown a log on a fire."
He was right, but Carrie wasn"t going to tell him so. Instead, she just stood where she was and looked at him.
Looking from one to the other, Dallas felt like bursting into tears. "Papa, I like bread and jam. Would you like to see my doll? You can name her if you want, but if you like the name Elsbeth, so do I."
As Carrie watched him, Josh"s face changed when he looked at his daughter. So far, she had seen two expressions on his face: She had seen him when he didn"t know who she was and desired her, and she had seen rage on his face since he"d found out who she was. But now she was seeing love on that dark, handsome face-a face she already felt she knew so well. She watched as he smiled at his daughter, then sat down and asked to see her doll. Carrie listened as Dallas told her father all about the doll, which was surprising because Carrie hadn"t been aware that the child had even looked at the toy. Dallas showed her father the doll"s pretty underclothes and its legs made of stuffed kid leather.
"I think Elsbeth is the best name for her," Josh said softly, stroking Dallas"s hair, noticing that it was brushed and neat, and for one brief flash, he looked at Carrie in grat.i.tude.
"I brought Tem a gift too," Carrie said as she picked up the boat from where she"d put it on the mantelpiece.
Tem gave a longing look at the toy, but turned to his father for permission to take it. Carrie could see by Josh"s face that he didn"t want his children to take anything from her, but she also saw that his children"s happiness meant more to him than any feud in the world. With a smile, Josh nodded to his son.
Hesitantly, Tem stepped forward and took the boat, then went back to stand near his father, the boat behind his back, as though he didn"t dare look at it. Even though Tem didn"t look at the boat, Carrie saw that he was stroking it with his hands.
"Papa," Dallas said, "I"m hungry."
With a sigh, Josh looked at the table, then nodded for his children to take their seats.
"If you have a teapot, I could make tea," Carrie said softly, for she was ready to make amends. This man who looked at his children with such love was the man she"d seen in the photo, the man she"d fallen in love with and had lied her way into a marriage with.
But when Josh looked up at Carrie, the love left his face. "You can make tea in a pot?" he practically sneered. "But then I guess that"s a ladylike occupation, isn"t it?" Angrily, he got up, tended to the fire, put an iron kettle of water on to boil, then rummaged under the stack of dirty dishes until he found a chipped teapot, which he set on the table.
They sat in silence while the water heated, all of them morose, looking down at the handkerchiefs that served as plates and saying nothing.
How ridiculous, Carrie thought, looking at the three of them. How utterly absurd to be alive and healthy and to be so sad. Poverty and living in a house like this didn"t make it necessary for people to be gloomy.
"I have seven older brothers," she said brightly into the silence. "And every one of them is as handsome as a prince in a fairy tale, and all of them travel all over the world on ships. Some months ago, not long before your father and I were married-" she ignored Josh"s startled look at this statement-"my brother Jamie brought Choo-choo to me. Would you like to hear some of the stories he told me about the places he visited? He went to China."
"Yes, oh please, yes," Dallas said, her voice and face showing that she was practically begging for some relief from the never-ending sadness.
Carrie looked at Tem, and although he tried to act as though he couldn"t care less what Carrie did, his eyes were eager. He nodded his consent.
Carrie looked at Josh and waited, forcing him to be part of the family.
"Whatever pleases the children," he said gloomily.
With enthusiasm, Carrie began to tell what Jamie had told her about China and especially about the palace her brother had visited, describing in lurid detail the silks and ornaments. Maybe she embellished a bit, but then maybe Jamie hadn"t told her all there was to tell. Leaning forward, in a voice reserved for ghost stories, she told the children about the custom of binding the feet of Chinese women.
During this, the water came to a boil, she got up, brought the kettle to the table, filled the teapot with water and her delicious tea, then began heaping strawberry jam on thick slices of bread, and handed them round to the children and Josh. Since Carrie was by this time telling about foot binding, Josh was as absorbed in her story as the children were, and he didn"t remember to tell her that he could serve himself.
Carrie talked all through the meal, at one point telling a Chinese fairy tale about true love that had ended abruptly and the woman had become a ghost. When all of the bread and jam was gone, she went to her case and withdrew a box of chocolates and served two pieces to each person while she finished telling her ghost story.
When all the food and all the tea were gone, Carrie stopped talking, and for a moment there was silence at the table.
"Golly," Dallas said into the silence, her eyes wide.
"Is any of that true?" Tem asked, trying to sound like a skeptical grownup.
"All of it. My brothers have been all over the world, and they"ve told me the most extraordinary tales. You should hear about India. And then there"re the desert countries and Egypt, and two of my brothers have fought pirates."
"Pirates!" Tem gasped, then caught himself.
"And one of my brothers was in the U.S. Army and fought Indians, but he says he liked the Indians better than he did most of the soldiers. I brought some things my brothers have given me, things they bought or stole or traded for on their trips."
"Your brothers stole things?" Dallas asked, aghast. "Uncle Hiram says that stealing is a sin."
"It is and it isn"t," Carrie a.s.sured her. "One of my brothers stole a pretty young woman from a slave trader, but that"s another story that I"ll have to save for another night. Right now I think it"s time you two were in bed."
Again there was silence, but then Josh spoke. "Yes, of course. It"s time for bed. Past time. Now scoot."
Carrie watched as the children hugged their father, kissed his cheek, and told him good night, then both of them turned to Carrie and didn"t seem to know what to do.
She smiled. "Go on, go to bed," she said, still smiling and relieving them of their dilemma.
As she watched, they scurried up a ladder leaning against the wall in the shadow of the fireplace. Overhead, she could hear them in what must be a tiny attic as they settled down for bed.
Still smiling, Carrie looked back at Josh, but he wasn"t smiling. All humor, all happiness had left his handsome face, and his dour expression made the smile disappear from her face.
"I"ll clean this up," Carrie said.
"Unless you plan to leave it for the maid."
Her teeth gritted, she stopped with her hands on the handkerchiefs. "What is it that angers you the most about me? Is it that I have so far succeeded where you predicted failure?"
Sitting down on the chair, her hands clutched in front of her, she looked at him. "I can see now that what I did wasn"t fair to you or your children, but I think you should give me a chance. I think you"ve misjudged me."
For a moment she saw that look of desire in his eyes, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, but then it was gone again and he looked at her coldly. "Let me explain something to you, Miss Montgomery, I-" He put his hand up when she started to speak. "All right, then, Mrs. Greene. My children mean more to me than anything else in the world. They mean everything to me, and I want to give them the best that I can, and by the best I mean a life that has a great deal of stability to it. I want them to have a father and a mother as well. I want them to have what I didn"t have, and I want them to grow up in the country in the fresh air; I want them to have food-home-cooked food. In order to obtain those things for my children, I am willing to do anything I have to. If I have to marry a woman who is part horse in order to give them what they need, then I"ll do so. Do you understand me?"
"What about love?" Carrie asked softly. "Doesn"t love matter to you?"
When he answered, he didn"t meet her eyes. "I love them enough for a dozen people. What they need is good food and a clean house and clean clothes."
"I see. And you have decided that I can"t give them any of those things. You"ve known me for only a few hours, yet you"ve decided exactly what I"m like."
He smiled at her in a patronizing way. "Look at you. How much did that dress cost you, and are those real pearls you"re wearing? You don"t have to answer me. I unloaded your trunks, remember? Do you think I"m so stupid as to think that someone like you is going to be happy living in this..." He waved his hand. "This hovel?" He leaned toward her, the table width between them. "You know what I think, Miss Montgomery? And yes it is and will always be Miss Montgomery, because I don"t mean to actually make you into Mrs. Greene, if you know what I mean."
Carrie couldn"t help herself, but she glanced toward the bedroom, which she hadn"t yet seen.
"Exactly," Josh said. "What I think is that this is a great adventure to you. You probably grew up spoiled and pampered by these too-magnificent-to-be-believed brothers of yours and you think you can do anything you want. Right now you want to spread your cheery little self around the house of some poor man and his children. But what happens to us after you get tired of us? Do you come into our lives, make us laugh with your stories, make the children and-" He sighed. "Make the children come to love you, and for that matter, maybe make me come to adore you, too, then when you"re tired of us, you go back to Daddy and your fascinating brothers? Is that what"s going to happen?"
"No," she said and started to defend herself, but he wouldn"t let her speak.
"How old are you, Miss Montgomery? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty, at most, is my guess."
Carrie didn"t answer him, for he seemed to have everything figured out, so why bother trying to dissuade him?
"You haven"t had time to see anything of the world or to experience anything. Quite romantically, you fell in love with a photograph, and you thought you"d give marriage a try. How exciting to travel all the way out West with hundreds of dresses and-"
Abruptly, he broke off and stood up. "What the h.e.l.l"s the use trying to explain? You"d never understand in a million years." He gave a sigh of resignation. "All right, Miss Montgomery, here"s the way it"s going to be. You may stay here for one week-until the stage travels through again- then I"m sending you back to your father as intact as you were when you arrived. You were so clever at arranging this marriage all by yourself, so you can arrange the annulment all by yourself."
Carrie stood up also. "Are you through? Have you finished insulting both me and my family? Maybe I should tell you about the town where I grew up so you can insult that too. It"s true that I grew up with money, but as far as I know you don"t have to be poor in order to want to give and receive love. And whether you believe me or not, love is why I came to this place. I-" She stopped because if she didn"t, she was going to start crying. When she thought of all her expectations and the reality of meeting the man she thought she was going to love, she could do little else except cry.
With all the dignity she could muster, she picked up her night case, tucked her dog under her arm, and walked toward the bedroom. "I shall stay here one week, Mr. Greene, not because of you, but because those children of yours need a little happiness in their lives, and if I can give them one week of happiness, that"s better than nothing. At the end of the week I shall return to my father just as you wish." She took a step into the bedroom, her hand on the door. "As for your not touching me during that week, that is your loss." With that she slammed the door.
She managed to maintain her anger for about three minutes, then she flung herself on the none-too-clean bed and began to cry. Choo-choo licked her face and seemed as sad as she was.
Chapter Five.
The next morning, Carrie was out of bed before dawn-or at least it seemed so to her. Usually, she awoke early, but she had a talent for turning over and going back to sleep, but this morning it took her a moment to remember where she was. Her eyes were puffy from crying herself to sleep, and she had a bit of a headache.
Reluctantly, she got out of the warm bed, opened the bedroom door, and went into the parlor-if it could be called that-and smiled when she saw that it was empty. Good, she thought, she was up before they were. But then she saw that there was a note on the table. They couldn"t have come and gone already, could they? It was barely dawn.
Ignoring the note, she turned back to the bedroom, trying not to look at the dreariness of the little room. A bureau that didn"t look as though it would make good firewood was against one wall and on top of it was a pocket watch that she a.s.sumed was Josh"s. Squinting against the early morning light, she looked at the watch. Eight o"clock. Good heavens, she had never been out of bed this early in her life. Even when she was going to school, her tutor had started her cla.s.ses at eleven.
Yawning, she went back into the big room and picked up the paper from the table. Recognizing Josh"s handwriting, she was instantly transported back to the time in Maine when she had read and reread his letter asking for a wife, and later she had memorized his letter saying he agreed to her terms of a proxy marriage.
Sitting down, Choo-choo on her lap, she read Josh"s letter.
Dear Miss Montgomery: I didn"t sleep much last night as I was thinking about our few conversations-if you can call them that. Whatever has happened, I believe you meant well. I now believe that your intentions were good and maybe there"s some truth in my children needing more than just clean clothes and hot food. But whatever your intentions, my children do need those things.
Twice you have asked me to give you a chance to prove yourself, to allow you to show me that you are not what you appear to be, so I have decided to give you that chance. You have proven yourself to be capable of caring for my children in a maternal way-at breakfast they could hardly keep their eyes off the bedroom door. In fairness to you, you seem to genuinely like my children, but I wonder if you can do the ch.o.r.es necessary to be a farmer"s wife.
I am enclosing a list of ch.o.r.es that I will expect you to complete within the week that you are to be with us. If you can do these things, then I am willing to discuss what possible future there is for you as the mother of my children.
Sincerely yours, Joshua T. Greene After reading the letter, Carrie picked up the list of ch.o.r.es, her mouth dropping open when she saw that the list was at least a foot long. Five women in six weeks couldn"t complete all the things that Josh had given her to do.
She sat back in the chair, her eyes narrowed at the list in one hand and the letter in the other. "You will allow me to be the mother of your children, will you?" she said to the air. "Not your wife, but somebody"s mother." Tossing the papers aside, she scratched Choo-choo"s head. "Rumpelstiltskin. That"s what this is like. King Joshua gives me a list of ch.o.r.es just as the king in the fairy tale gave the young woman a roomful of straw to spin into gold. If she performed that impossible task, then she got to marry the king. In this case I get to mother the king"s children."
She looked about the room. Impossible to believe, but it looked even more barren and hopeless in the daylight than it had the previous evening. "I wonder what they had for breakfast? Peas?" Carrie gave a delicate shudder, then stood and put Choo-choo to the floor. "Shall we go find our own Rumpelstiltskin?" she said to the dog. "Someone to help us perform the tasks the king has set before us?"
An hour later when Mrs. Carrie Greene nee Montgomery rode into the town of Eternity on Josh Greene"s old swayback workhorse wearing the finest riding habit that had ever been seen west of the Mississippi, the town came to a virtual standstill. Every person in sight stopped what he or she was doing and looked at this vision of loveliness. Her habit was dark red, trimmed in black velvet, and she wore the sauciest little veiled hat perched over one eye that anyone had ever seen.