A Bride For Carter (The Proxy Brides Book 6) Read online

  “Of course, she is. And at my request, of course.” The warm voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin with surprise, but Ella almost sagged with relief that Carter had arrived and was stepping in to save her. Ella wished wholeheartedly that she could save herself, but she wasn’t sure which way to turn at this point.

  She couldn’t look him in the eye and knew her smile was wan as she grabbed a bolt of material without even looking.

  “Are you sure about that color?” Ella could hear laughter in his voice but all she could see was the assessing glare of the other woman. She forced her gaze down to the fabric in her hands and wished a hole would open under her. He was quite right. It was purple.

  She felt the side of her mouth lift up in a half smile. “Well, it would at least brighten up the place.”

  Ella finally looked at him and had to laugh despite the turmoil of her feelings. “No, you’re right, that’s not the color I meant to pick up.” She quickly exchanged the bolts of fabric. The shopkeeper had materialized at Carter’s elbow and appeared quite happy to help her measure out the amount she needed. It felt to Ella like an obscenely large order, but there were a large number of windows requiring coverings. She refused to look at anything else except the thread she would need to complete the project.

  Carter seemed disappointed that she was disinterested in shopping, but Ella ignored both him and the other women in the store. What should have been an entertaining excursion had become a burden for her that she wished to dispense with as quickly as possible.

  “Weren’t you going to look at the books?”

  Ella forced a laugh. “With this sewing to do, I won’t have time for reading for quite a while. I’m sure we’ll be back. I can look at them next time.” He seemed skeptical but Ella just wanted to be free of the store and Phoebe’s watchful, suspicious gaze. They hadn’t spoken any further after Carter stepped in, merely nodding in farewell.

  Within moments they were striding toward the wagon with the large parcel safely tucked under Carter’s arm. Ella felt as though she could breathe easier as soon as they were outside.

  “Would you like to look at any more shops before we head to the post office?”

  “No, thank you. And I really don’t think I need to send Sybil a telegram. She will send my things when she is able.”

  “But how will we know when we need to go to Town to collect them if we haven’t had any communication with her?”

  His question was reasonable, and Ella had to quit resisting his suggestion. She scrambled to think how to word the message. She was certain one paid by the word so she couldn’t be chatty despite how desperately she would love to communicate with her dear friend.

  Chapter Twelve

  C arter frowned as he watched his wife. She was a study in contrasts. It was obvious she loved nice things. One had only to look at the clothes she had brought with her. They weren’t the most practical for life on the frontier — that was for certain. They were much more decorative than what the other women of his acquaintance wore, for one thing, and of finer material. So it was obvious to him that at some point in her life she had been a shopper. But she hadn’t wanted to even look around the mercantile. Perhaps she was too convinced that the village was beneath her notice as a woman of Boston. But he didn’t think so. While he was still distrustful of her, it was obvious to him she was kind hearted. Her feelings had been hurt by Phoebe’s implied insult that she was after his money.

  He didn’t know what to say to her to break the silence that had arisen between them after he had insisted they message her friend about her belongings. If she didn’t want to buy anything new, she needed to get her old things. It was a matter of pride for him to take proper care of his wife.

  As they strode toward the post office, Carter had another thing to concern himself about. While he had been so anxious to see if there was a message for him from Fred, it was now almost inevitable that someone would remark upon him returning so quickly. He should have waited. What was she going to think? Someone was sure to comment on his having just been there. Carter managed to restrain himself from grunting in disgust over his own stupidity. But just barely.

  Of course, he was forgetting that most of the men in those parts didn’t have too much to say. While the postmaster did cast him a confused expression when they first entered, not much was said. And Ella appeared far too preoccupied to notice anyway. Carter was left wondering if the woman in the mercantile had upset her that much or if she truly didn’t want to message her friend. But that was ludicrous. Why wouldn’t she want to contact the person she had claimed was her dearest friend? And wouldn’t she want to know when her things would be arriving? He offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile as they stepped toward the counter behind which were the telegram wires.

  “Have you decided what you’d like to say?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head slightly confirming to Carter that she really was nervous about the message.

  “Take your time, there’s no need for us to rush. Brent has everything in hand at home.”

  She again chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry to be a ninny about this. Have you sent telegrams before? Is it not disconcerting that so many others might read your words? It makes it difficult to know what to say.”

  Again the postmaster cast a look at him, which Carter chose to ignore. Of course he’d sent telegrams before. “I know what you mean. It does make you extra careful in your wording.”

  She held her bottom lip between her teeth before commenting. “And isn’t it more expensive if I say too much?”

  “Don’t let that trouble you,” he quickly answered, surprised that she was again seemingly worried about his finances. “It doesn’t cost so very much.”

  There was a small pile of paper on the counter for people to write out their messages. He could see that her hand trembled slightly as she reached for a piece and picked up the pencil. He was growing concerned for her. It was odd that she was getting so very worked up over such a little matter. He was beginning to feel that there was much she needed to confide in him.

  After a few minutes of writing, scratching, and nervous fidgets, she finally handed him the paper. While she had marked a line through many of her attempts, finally at the bottom of the page was a short message. It revealed very little but would get the point across. He was impressed with her mind. She was able to boil it down into the barest necessity.

  Please message when package sent.

  All is well. Love, Ella.

  “Will that be good enough, do you think?” she asked nervously. He had to fight the urge to put his arm around her in order to settle her nerves. He didn’t think it would help her. He rather thought he was part of the problem for her nervous fidgets.

  “I think it’s near to perfect if you’re sure you don’t want to add any more details.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “I’ll write her a letter that we can send when we come to check if there’s any response in the next few days.”

  “Very well, then if you are certain you don’t wish to do any other errands while we’re in the village, we can make our way back home.”

  Her smile looked to be filling with relief. Carter could feel himself frowning as he wondered what was going on in her mind, and he thought of all the questions he had for her. Whatever was written on his face seemed to interrupt her expression, and her eyes widened in concern. But neither of them said anything until they were on the way, moving away from the main street.

  “I never thought to ask you for our marriage certificate. It ought to be kept in a safe place.” Carter had tried to think of a way to ease into the conversation but wasn’t sure how to be tactful about the matter. It was the best he could do.

  She blinked, clearly surprised by the topic. “It is in a safe place.”

  “Do you think I could see it for myself?”

  Again she blinked, but her smile was wide as she nodded. “Of course. It’s in my room.”

  C
arter would have to think of an excuse to drive into Town once he had ascertained her name. Of course, if they received a message from Ella’s friend that her things had been sent, he would have a ready reason. Or you could just ask her for the information without all this subterfuge, he reminded himself with a twinge of guilt. She seemed preoccupied, and he wondered what was on her mind.

  “Do you know that woman from the mercantile very well?”

  “Phoebe Crocker?”

  She shrugged and nodded.

  “Not terribly well. She married Jacob Crocker about two years ago. I’ve known Jacob for eight years, I think. I haven’t spent too much time with Jacob since he got married. I will tell you, I’ve never had the best impression of her. I can’t even tell you why, really. She seems to love to be involved in other people’s business but doesn’t want to share her own. It feels like she is preventing Jacob from seeing his friends. It could just be that he’s preoccupied, of course. He has his own property now that he’s busy looking after. We worked together before on another spread, then he hired on to my property for a while after I settled here. Now he has a small property of his own, and a wife, so I only see him at community events like weddings or funerals.”

  She wrinkled her nose toward the end of his explanation, and a question mark was clearly formed in her eyes. “Does everyone attend the weddings and funerals around here?”

  “Sure. It’s a small community. And everyone enjoys any sort of excuse to get together. The only other time we can socialize is when we get together to build someone a house or barn.”

  “You build each other’s houses and barns?” She sounded incredulous.

  “Sure, the shell of it at least. We do the best we can to get as much done in one day as possible. Then the family can manage to finish it on their own.”

  “That’s quite wonderful,” Ella commented, her wide eyes showing just how surprised she was by such an idea. “It’s not like anything that would happen in the city, is it?”

  Carter laughed. “Definitely not.” He sobered a little and looked at her seriously while he kept the horses moving at a steady pace with a firm grip on the leads. “It’s one of the reasons why I love it out here. While most people are happy to mind their own business and leave you to yours, they’re also happy to lend a hand when necessary.”

  “Have you ever had to avail yourself of such assistance? Did the community help you build your house and barn?”

  “They did. Well, the barn anyway. Most folks would’ve thought the house a little too outlandish to bother with. But the house where my men live used to be the main house on the property, and while I was getting help raising my first barn, there were enough people, and I had enough wood, that we were able to do the exterior of the small house, too.”

  He was surprised to see such a wistful expression upon her face. “I wish I had been here then to see it.”

  Carter chuckled. “It was a few years ago now. You would’ve been still a little girl, I dare say.”

  She didn’t seem to appreciate his comment but didn’t say anything further, merely offering him a tight smile and turning her attention back to the passing scenery now that they were well on the road. The silence stretched between them while Carter wondered what to say to put her at ease.

  “Why did you ask about Mrs. Crocker anyway? I thought you two hit it off when you met in Town, but it didn’t seem very warm when I walked into the mercantile.”

  Ella shrugged before answering. “I’m not really sure what happened. I wouldn’t say we hit it off when we first met, but since she’s the only woman I know in these parts I had actually looked forward to the possibility of running into her when I remembered that she had mentioned they didn’t live too awfully far from you.” She shrugged again before adding, “Perhaps she’s just the moody sort.”

  Carter watched her as she averted her face. He thought there was probably a lot she was leaving out. It seemed to him as though the encounter had upset her. He wished he could do something to make her feel better, but he didn’t yet know her well enough to know what would help. He stifled his sigh of frustration.

  “Do you find it lonely out here on the frontier, far from your family and friends?”

  Carter was taken aback both by the question and by her tone. He rather thought she sounded lonely.

  “Are you starting to feel homesick?”

  To his surprise, she shrugged as though it didn’t matter to her one way or the other. He wondered if he ought to question her about it but to his further surprise, she continued speaking after a brief pause.

  “I don’t have any family left back in Boston. My mom was an only child and her parents have already passed. My father was estranged from his family, so I don’t know them. And all but one of my friends proved not to actually be a friend. So any homesickness I might feel is for something that no longer exists.” She cleared her throat delicately and offered him a bright smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “It would have been nice to make some women friends in the area, but I think it best if I stick to animals for now. I know I have to wait until spring for a kitten, but tell me a little bit more about the lambs. I know they probably wouldn’t work too well as an indoor pet, but surely it wouldn’t hurt for me to befriend them.”

  Carter laughed and started talking, telling her more about why he was raising sheep on a cattle ranch and enjoying the sun on his shoulders as they made their way home. The time flew and he appreciated her intelligent questions. Even though she obviously knew little about rural life, she was interested and was able to formulate insightful questions, stimulating a lively conversation. He’d never had such an in depth conversation about his methods and plans for the spread. His appreciation for the woman at his side grew along with his pride in himself. Her softly uttered, “You’ve done so well for yourself,” were the best words he’d ever heard.

  As they chatted the rest of the way home and even through the evening after he had finished his chores, at the back of his mind Carter was wondering why they were able to converse so freely and yet his wife never ended up telling him anything of import about herself. He realized he ought to try harder to engage her in sharing personally, but he was enjoying her company far too much to disrupt their flow at this point.

  Chapter Thirteen

  E leanor St. Clair. Now he knew her name prior to becoming his wife. And with the name came her public history. He didn’t even need to ask her if her father was Winston St. Clair. Fred wouldn’t have mentioned the newspaper articles if there were nothing of note about her name. Ella had handed him the folded paper that was their marriage license within moments of arriving home. Her face had been a study in nonchalance, but that very fact revealed to him how very much she was affected by the need to share that information with him. Up until that point, there had been an almost perpetual smile or grin on her face since she had awoken from her faint on the train platform in Town. Carter wasn’t sure if the smiles were real or not, but the fact that there wasn’t one gracing her lovely face now told him how very seriously she took the matter. That was why he had waited until she had left the room before he unfolded the paper. He had been nervous to learn the truth.

  He knew enough about life to realize that whatever he had read about her scandalous father wasn’t the full truth. It certainly wouldn’t be her truth. And it didn’t mitigate the fact that the poor woman had been all alone after the bottom had dropped out of her world. What it did explain to a certain extent was why such a beautiful young woman was willing to accept their arranged marriage. And he had been right. Knowing that did make all the difference to him. Now that he knew, he realized it wasn’t so very bad. He strongly doubted she had been involved in her father’s dishonest schemes. He accepted it had been foolish on his part to arrange for a wife to be sent to him without looking into her background before making it legal. It could have been so much worse. Of course, he had trusted Fred.

  He could see that Ella was brave for accepting his offer rather th
an conniving. While it could be argued that not telling him such an important piece of information was being dishonest, Carter could see that it would be difficult for her to trust him with it while she didn’t yet know him. He could only imagine what kind of treatment she had received from the authorities and her former acquaintances when her father’s fraudulent activities had come to light. The fact that she had not been arrested told him the authorities did not consider her in the least involved. He thought she was rather fortunate that she hadn’t been thrown into jail just because people thought someone should pay for Mr. St. Clair’s crimes. Since he was no longer around to take the blame, his daughter could have very well been considered an easy target.

  This thought made his chest ache for his wife. He wished she would tell him all about it. Carter didn’t like to think about his own time living in Boston, and it was only that he didn’t feel he fit in. He hated to think of her experiences, but he did wish she would confide in him. He was certain she must be scarred from them, and surely talking about them would help. Didn’t women always want to talk things out?

  ~~~

  Carter sat atop his horse and stared off into the distance. He truly loved his piece of Iowa. He loved that, from this vantage point, all he could see was his own land. He loved how lush and green it was for most of the year. He loved how fertile it was and how relatively easy it was to cultivate his herd. And he really appreciated the fact that one would have to ride for a while before finding another person who wasn’t affiliated with him. The closest neighbor was at least a twenty-minute hard ride away. He loved that. But it might not be considered a positive for his wife. She probably wanted company and social interaction. Carter sighed. He was going to have to go to Boston to clear his wife’s name. His gut clenched at the thought.