Leora: Bride of California (American Mail-Order Bride 31) (6 page)

“It was frightening. I was just a child. They were outlaws camped outside of town. My father would’ve helped them regardless – they didn’t need to resort to violence …”

Leora could only stare. There was something in his eyes that told her there was more to the story. But she decided not to press him for it – at least not now. She wiped her hands on her skirt, squared her shoulders and turned to the corner. “Looks like I’d better get to work.”

Six

They worked until noon, when Theron’s parents showed up on the front porch of the parsonage. Leora had been so intent on organizing the piles in the corner that she’d lost track of time, so Theron had left the office to go make sandwiches. She washed the dust and ink from her hands, dried them, then walked over to the worktable where Theron was preparing lunch. “Should I make some soup?”

He smiled. “No, this is good enough for my folks.”

She looked at Theron’s father sitting at the kitchen table next to his wife, thumbing through a book. He was a handsome man, simultaneously intense and gentle. He didn’t talk much but instead studied his son, brows knit together in concentration as if having a conversation with himself. Mrs. Drake, on the other hand, looked around the kitchen as if mentally picturing where she would put things.

Leora felt a twinge of panic. What if they wanted to stay awhile? What if they didn’t go on to San Francisco right away? The thought made her nervous and she dropped a knife.

“Careful,” Theron warned. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Theron’s father watched them a moment, then looked at his wife and took her hand. Leora witnessed their eyes softening, and smiled at the tender exchange. “I’m all right.”

Theron gave her a single nod then turned to his parents. “I could make us some tea.”

“Whatever you want to do, dear, but water is fine with us,” his mother said.

Leora brought the plate of sandwiches to the table and set it down, then went to a nearby hutch where she knew the dishes were kept and pulled out four plates.

“There’s no need for that,” Mrs. Drake said. “We can just as easily eat off napkins.”

“No trouble,” Leora said as she brought the plates to the table. She hoped the woman wasn’t going to counter everything she did.

“Well, if you insist. I was just trying to spare you the dishes.”

Leora smiled at her, one plate held in midair. Maybe she was wrong about Mrs. Drake. She set the plates out, then fetched some napkins.

“Go ahead and sit down, dear,” Mrs. Drake said. “You must be famished after all the work you did this morning.”

Leora nodded. “I am a little hungry.” She was also nervous. She understood about Theron’s parents and why he felt the way he did about them, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about them yet. His mother did indeed speak her mind, while his father practically dripped with seriousness. She wasn’t sure how to act around the pair.

She sat next to Theron and waited for him to say the blessing, but it was his mother that took it on. “Oh Lord, thank You for this food and may You bless it to our bodies. Amen. Oh, and thank You for bringing Theron such a lovely bride, but You know You’re going to have to help me with the other one.”

Leora caught the look on Theron’s face out of the corner of one eye and noticed his lip twitch. His mother must have noticed too. She smiled at him, shrugged and grabbed a sandwich. There wasn’t exactly great tension between them, but there was some. Leora just wished she knew more about it.

“How was the wedding?” Dr. Drake asked.

“I’m sure Mother told you,” Theron said. “A bit crowded, is all.”

Dr. Drake eyed his wife. “No, your mother hasn’t said a word about it.”

Theron glanced between his parents. “Really? In that case, it was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. Reverend Wingate officiated.”

Dr. Drake looked between his wife and son, then fixed his gaze on Leora. “And what do you say?”

“Me?”

“Yes, how was your wedding?”

“It was… fine, just as Theron told you.”

“No it wasn’t,” Mrs. Drake said. “
She
was there.”

Dr. Drake’s eyes widened a fraction before he turned to his wife. “You don’t say? She didn’t happen to bring a punch bowl with her, did she?”

Theron pressed his lips together and snorted. Leora took a quick look at his mother, who sat, her lips pressed just as firmly as she glared at him.

“Well, it’s nice to hear that Mrs. Rutherford is … her old self,” his father said.

“Very much so,” Theron said. “But don’t worry, she won’t be bothering us. I’ll see to that.”

“You’d best see to it before Sunday comes,” his mother said.

“Why is that?” asked Leora. Was there something else about Mrs. Rutherford she ought to know?

“Because if that harpy has her way, no one will show up for services,” Mrs. Drake said.

Leora gasped. “Why would she do such a thing?”

“Because she has to have her way,” Mrs. Drake informed her. “She’s also the type to do it by any means necessary. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t like her.”

“Does anyone around here?” Leora asked. “Seems to me she has everybody bullied in this town.”

“Very observant,” Mrs. Drake remarked.

“It’s a little hard not to be when the woman brings more than twenty people to your wedding.”

Theron gave her a look that clearly said
did you have to mention that?

“Well, that settles it then,” Mrs. Drake said. “We’re not leaving.”

“Yes, we are,” said Dr. Drake firmly. “Lorcan and Ada are expecting us. Theron and his new bride can handle Mrs. Rutherford.”

“Maybe so, but we should still help,” his wife argued.

“If Theron needed our help, don’t you think he’d ask for it?”

Theron sat back in his chair with a smile. At least his father was on his side.

Leora kept quiet – this was exactly the sort of thing she wanted to avoid. But was Mrs. Rutherford really that bad? She had a very strong feeling that once Theron’s parents left, she was going to find out.

* * *

The rest of the meal passed in silence, then Leora did the dishes while Theron spoke with his parents in the parlor. They would spend the night at Mrs. Pleet’s, join Theron and Leora for breakfast, then take the noon train to San Francisco. There they would spend some time with their friends Lorcan and Ada, then do some other traveling before coming back to stay a few days with the newlyweds for Christmas.

At least Leora
might
get a few private days with her new husband. She began to feel a little jealous of Lottie and Sam’s train trip west – at least they got some sort of a honeymoon. All Leora got was a cluttered corner full of papers, one she planned to tackle again once she got the dishes done. The project was going to take her more than a day to finish.

Theron’s parents bid them goodbye and headed back to the boarding house. There were other people in town that they wanted to visit and had already been invited to dinner by several families. “Your parents are very popular,” Leora commented as they watched them walk down the street to Mrs. Pleet’s.

“They always have been,” he said, a hint of weariness in his voice.

“Does your mother hate Mrs. Rutherford?” Maybe it was too personal a question, but again, if she was going to have to face this woman alone, she wanted to know exactly what she might be getting herself into.

“My mother doesn’t let anyone push her around, especially the likes of Mrs. Rutherford. There’s no love lost between them, that’s for sure.” He turned to her. “You aren’t worried about her, are you?”

“Mrs. Rutherford?” Leora said and fought the urge to twist her hair, a bad habit she had when she was nervous. “Of course not.”

“You’d tell me if she pushed you around?”

“She won’t bother me.”
I hope,
she added silently.

“Well then, I guess I have no need to worry. Let’s go back to the office and finish our work.” He turned and headed back into the house.

Leora took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wasn’t sure which she dreaded more: getting back to work on the mess in the corner, or her first real run-in with Mrs. Rutherford.

Back in the office they each settled into their tasks. Leora tackled the chaotic corner, while Theron put together his sermon for next Sunday. He finished; she didn’t. “I told you that might take awhile,” he commented as they locked up the office.

“That’s all right. I’m sorry I interrupted you so much, but I wasn’t sure what a lot of your papers were, exactly.”

“I have a confession to make,” he said with a smile.

“What?”

“When I first moved here, I was carrying half of those boxes in my arms and ….”

Her eyes widened. “And what?”

“I tripped.”

“Oh no! Did you hurt yourself?”

“Only my pride – I wasn’t alone. Anyway, it was raining, so my friend and I scrambled to get everything picked up and stuffed papers into boxes willy-nilly. Unfortunately, it’s not the first time that’s happened.”

Leora gawked at him a moment. “You mean I’m cleaning up more than one spill?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But you seem so neat with everything else.”

“True, but we all have that one weak spot. Call it a flaw in my case, but to me it was never a priority. I know it needed doing, but I’ve always had more important things to do. Or at least more urgent ones.”

She thought about it. Her days had always consisted of the same thing. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. There wasn’t a need for much prioritizing, except maybe when it came to having the chance to read. Speaking of which … “Do you take time for yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, to read in the evenings, play a game, take a walk.”

“Of course, why do you ask?”

She furrowed her brow as she pondered his answer. Her life really had been dull – lack of money and energy did that to a person. But still, some of the other women she’d worked with managed to take walks in the evening, or go to the park on their day off. All she ever did with her spare time was re-read
The Pirate’s Peril and Other Adventures.

“There are various amusements in town throughout the year – festivals, dances, plays, that sort of thing. With the holidays coming, there will be no shortage of extracurricular activities. Which means you and I are going to be quite busy.”

“With what?” she asked as they reached their front door.

“Oh, let’s see. There’s the Christmas play, gift baskets for the poor – you’ll be in charge of that – and then of course the quilting will start this week …”

“Quilting?”

“Yes, a group of ladies make a Christmas quilt every year and raffle it off for charity. They meet in the church twice a week.”

Leora’s heart warmed, even as a tremor of fear crept up her spine. “Will I be in charge of that too?”

“No, but they’re sure to ask you to join them.”

“I’ve never made a quilt before,” she said nervously.

“They’ll be happy to show you,” he said with a smile as they went in the house. Theron took off his jacket and hung it on a peg by the door. Leora hadn’t bothered with her shawl when they left for the office after lunch, so stood and watched as he took a couple of books off a small table by the sofa and carried them into the dining room to set on the table. He then turned to her. “What’s for supper?”

She blanched. He knew she could only make one thing. And did he even have what she needed to do that? “Soup?” she said tentatively.

He smiled as his shoulders shook with mirth. “Soup it is, then. I have some studying to do. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

She gave him a single nod, wiped her hands on her skirt (good grief, were her palms sweating?) and went into the kitchen. Once there she stood near the stove glancing this way and that. She didn’t even know where anything was yet. “Well,” she said as she rolled up her sleeves, “time to find out.”

She did a quick search of the kitchen to find out where Theron kept everything, then set to work. He had a few potatoes and carrots, one onion and a slightly wizened bulb of garlic. That would do. He probably bought his meat from the local butcher along with his eggs and milk. She’d have to ask to go shopping at some point – his larder was definitely low on supplies.

She soon had a pot of soup on the stove. At least she didn’t have to start a fire – Theron had banked it well after lunch. Time to set to work on a batch of biscuits – she’d seen Judith and Beth make them enough times when they lived together that she felt confident she could whip up a batch on her own.

After she put the biscuits in the oven, she studied the kitchen again. It was such a large, wonderful room, and she couldn’t help but picture herself pulling a roasted chicken out of the oven and serving it to her family. With Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up, would Theron expect them to entertain? Was she going to have to worry about making an entire holiday dinner or two?

Leora shuddered at the thought and knew a visit with Mrs. Pleet was in order, before she got in over her head. What an embarrassment that would be! She was embarrassed enough as it was that she had so little experience with such things. Worse yet, what if Mrs. Rutherford and her cronies were there?

But then, why would they be?

“Is supper almost ready?” Theron asked as he came into the kitchen. “Smells good.”