Gabrielle: Bride of Vermont (American Mail-Order Bride 14) (4 page)

Her eyes flew wide open wide, and she gasped. “I don’t have a wedding dress!”

There would be no more sleep on this night. Although her bags were packed and ready to go, she carefully went through them. She’d made all of her own dresses, and had accumulated several over the years. Scrutinizing them one by one, she sorted them into two piles, one containing rejects and the other with dresses she deemed worthy of wearing for her own ceremony. Would any of them suit?

She sat down on the bed between the two piles. How would it work? When she stepped off the stagecoach in Wiggieville, would her groom be waiting to take her to be married right away? Would she even have time to change into a wedding dress? She tried to imagine what it might be like. Would there be dangerous Indians lurking about? She’d read stories of the world out West. How safe was it? She was going on the adventure of a lifetime. She sighed, feeling a bit afraid, but felt herself becoming excited. Her life was about to change drastically! She was moving to Texas and she would embrace all things Western.  She couldn’t wait.

Hurriedly, she chose the dress she would wear for her groom on their first day together as husband and wife.
Boone Dillingham, I hope you like it. I never planned on being a wife, but I guess I’m about to be one.

She stood with her hands on her hips and looked around the tiny room in the boarding house she’d found. She was ready to go. Realizing she still had over an hour before she needed to leave for the train station, she sat down at the tiny desk in the corner of the room. She had enough time to compose letters to Poppy, Roberta and Sarah. She needed to let her former roommates know where she was going.

CHAPTER FOUR

Boone stepped inside and removed his coat. He went over to the stove and scrambled a couple of eggs for dinner. As he sat down to eat, he surveyed the kitchen. It was messy. Over the years he’d collected a bit of clutter. There was the pile of horseshoes stacked in one corner.  He’d always intended to do something with them but never got around to it. Various baskets were filled with what a woman might consider to be junk. There was the bucket of spurs he’d saved over the years. He and Buck had a collection of knives that seemed to multiply on their own. He remembered the cans of rocks stacked in the corner of the parlor. Those would probably have to go outside.

He was proud of the bookcase his son had built years ago but hadn’t noticed how much had collected on the dusty shelves. Amongst the hodgepodge of cups, bowls, plates, and mugs, there were several books and a few hand tools.

He finished eating and made his way through his home. He’d always thought of it as large, and it was, compared to the cabin he’d lived in when he was first married. That cabin outside of Topeka really had been small, but it was all that he and Amanda had needed. She’d given birth to Buck, their only son, in it, and they’d lived there until she’d fallen off the horse that caused her death.

As he thought about the woman, a complete stranger, who was coming to live with him, it crossed his mind that she might not think his home was much to look at.  After all, she was a city girl. Would she expect a fancy house? In the letter he’d told her it was a large house. He stood now, slowly walking around, wondering if maybe his choice of words might have given off the wrong impression.

He was thankful they’d added indoor plumbing years ago. The little room had more than a toilet; thank goodness for that. On a whim, he’d decided a bathtub would be nice to have, so he’d purchased one. Buck had enjoyed playing in it when they’d first installed it, when it was still a novelty. Boone shook his head at the memory of Buck when he was around thirteen years old. Getting him to bathe back then had been just shy of a miracle.

Buck had done quite a bit of growing up since that time. Boone walked into his son’s bedroom. It still didn’t look right to him. It wasn’t just that Buck had moved out. It was fairly clean. There weren’t piles of dirty clothing and random instruments strewn about anymore. No guitar, no banjo, no harmonica. It was too neat to be Buck’s room. At least the old quilt on the bed remained, as well as some odds and ends that had long since lost their appeal for a young man. When she came to live in his home, the woman could take over this room and give it some feminine touches. It should do just fine for her.

Boone took a few steps down the hall toward the back of the house and turned into his own room. It was much larger than Buck’s. A little messier now, too. He tried to see what the woman, his wife, would see. At the thought of the word “wife,” Boone sat on the bed, then slowly laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling.

Amanda, dear. I’m sorry. You know I’ll never stop loving you or missing you. It’s just that I’m lonely, and it’s too quiet around here with Buck grown and gone. I thought I’d be able to live out the rest of my life without ever remarrying, but I just can’t do it. Forgive me, darling. I promise she’ll never take your place. I hope she’ll be a partner and maybe even a friend, but she’ll never replace you. You still occupy the part of my heart that was capable of true love.

He walked back to Buck’s room. The woman would likely own more clothing than he. More things for sure. Girls had perfume and hairbrushes and stuff like that. She’d probably need more space than he did. Impulsively, he decided he’d take Buck’s room and give her the larger one and hurried to begin moving his clothes. He wouldn’t worry about fancying it up. She could do all that once she settled in and decided what she’d need and would want to make herself feel comfortable.

He’d leave some of his collections exactly where they were, though. After all, she might appreciate having some of them. The glass jars on the shelf would probably appeal to a woman.

When he finished all he could think to do, he was pleased with himself. He’d be leaving first thing Monday morning to fetch her from Wiggieville and he was ready.

*******

After church service the next morning, Boone remained and helped tidy up as had become his custom over the years.

Clyde’s wife, Mattie, approached him. “So, tomorrow is the big day. Is that right?”

Boone smiled sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come out and give you a hand getting your place ready for her? I really don’t mind.”

“Well, thanks, Mattie. I think I’m ready for her. I’ve made a few changes that I think will do just fine.”

“Just promise you’ll still be coming over for Sunday lunch, okay? We can’t wait to get to know your new wife!”

“I’ll be—, I mean
we’ll
be sure to. Now, what else needs to be done around here?” Boone was anxious to change the subject. Using the word “we” felt wrong, and he didn’t want to dwell on it.

Mattie glanced around. “Would you mind giving Clyde and the boys a hand? They’ve got a very large desk to move outside. It’s on its last leg and will be replaced tomorrow. I think they could use another set of hands.”

“Sure, Mattie. I’d be happy to.” Boone stopped himself as he started to walk away. “One question, though.”

She raised her eyebrows, wondering what he might ask.

Boone laughed. “Will those grown sons-in-law of yours ever become men? I’m amused that you still call them boys!”

“Oh, get on with you, Boone! I know Buck has moved away, but I bet you’ll still refer to him as a boy for a long time to come. We never stop being parents, you know. Now quit teasing me!” She swatted at his shoulder with her hand.

Boone quickly jumped back to playfully dodge her hand, forgetting there was a bench just behind him. He lost his balance and fell backward, slamming his head on the hard wooden floor beneath him. His world went black.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gabrielle watched the scenery just outside the window of the stagecoach. She was enamored with the wide-open spaces. Even though it was December, there was still so much green in every direction. The small rolling hills were beautiful and almost succeeded in calming her nerves. Trees and shrubs were in abundance. The skies in Texas were much bluer than back in Massachusetts! She gazed at the various cloud formations. The huge, puffy clouds were like pure white piles of cotton floating above her. The majesty of it filled her senses. She couldn’t look away. The exhaustion she’d felt after two weeks on the train seemed to melt away.

Taking a deep breath, she took in the clean-smelling air and let it out slowly. She sighed.
I shall be content to live with Boone Dillingham, no matter what comes, so long as I can gaze at skies like these from time to time. Maybe moving here won’t be so bad after all.

Not far off the road, she saw something that caught her eye. A young woman rode across the land atop a beautiful black horse. Her hair blew wildly as she seemed to rise and fall in rhythm with the animal. It was as though they were one. Gabrielle had been on a horse before, but had never ridden on one that galloped. Her experience had been in a few buggies, but mostly in railcars, when her destination was too far to walk. Having lived in large cities her entire life, she’d never had the freedom to ride with such speed as the woman she was watching. The scene was captivating, and she was sad when the horse and rider rode out of her line of vision.

I can’t wait to do that!

The stagecoach slowed and rounded a bend. They were heading south now, and Gabrielle knew this meant they’d be in the town of Wiggieville soon. She tried to imagine the man who would be there to greet her. Her
husband
to be. He’d said he wasn’t too bad to look at. She felt panic rising within her. How would she find him in the city? What if they missed each other? She tried to think ahead to what she’d do if that happened.

She looked at her dress. The blue fabric was wrinkled. She thought the small lace ruffles around her collar seemed flat and dull after having seen the beautiful, fluffy clouds.

She saw buildings come into view. This was the city? There wasn’t too much to it. At least it had an interesting name.
Wiggieville.
I guess I’ll learn about that later.

She buttoned up her coat and put her gloves back on. She’d alternated between hot and cold all day. It was just a bit chilly outside, though, so she wanted to be warm. Sooner than she’d expected after coming into the city, the stagecoach stopped.

The door was opened, and she helped the other passengers, a woman and her two young children, get outside. She handed down a nearly forgotten toy and carefully stepped down from the coach. She watched as the young mother and children rushed into the arms of a man who, apparently, was her husband. He swung the children into the air and happily kissed them all.

She heard the voice behind her. “Gabrielle Petersen?”

Fear stopped her from turning around.   She’d thought of little more than what this moment might be like for most of the last few weeks.

“Excuse me, Miss Petersen?” He repeated, as he stepped around her, so she could see him.

She smiled and put out her hand to greet him. She took him in all at once. He was tall and wore a western hat. He had warm brown eyes and a firm handshake. He was much older than she’d imagined, but cleanly dressed. Maybe even fifty years old, or more. She couldn’t guess for sure. Gabrielle felt
nothing and then discovered she was nearly giddy with relief. She realized that she’d been afraid that he’d be overwhelmingly handsome and irresistible and then her plan for a non-physical marriage would be impossible!

Suddenly aware that she hadn’t said a word, she rushed to make up for it. “Oh! Thank you for being here. I mean, I thought you’d be here, of course. Elizabeth Miller said you would and that I shouldn’t worry. But who wouldn’t worry, at least a little bit, when coming all the way from Massachusetts? Well, I wasn’t really worried. Just a little anxious, maybe.”

The stranger opened his mouth to respond, but in her nervousness, Gabrielle prattled on, and so he closed it.

“Texas is beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like it. The air is so fresh and smells so clean. And the skies! Why, I’ve never seen any sky look so vivid. I thought it might be cold, too. It was freezing and rainy when I left Massachusetts nearly two weeks ago. But, this kind of cold, well, it’s just lovely. I probably need to put these gloves and my coat back into one of my—.” Gabrielle stopped mid-sentence and spun around to look at the coach.

“Goodness! My bags! In my excitement, I nearly forgot them.” She turned and ran back toward the coach. The driver had set the luggage down on the little platform he’d pulled up to.

The stranger just watched, smiling slightly and shaking his head, before following behind her.

Gabrielle looked over her shoulder as she bent to pick up her two carpet bags.

“I’ll get those,” the man said, smiling at her as he stepped around her to reach for them. 

She stepped aside. “Thank you. I’m just so used to doing things on my own. It’s hard not to just do that automatically. I appreciate your help. I can handle them just fine, but, well—.” She laughed nervously. “I’m so sorry! I feel a bit strange here. I just don’t know how to act.”

“It’s quite all right, Miss Petersen. I'm sure it's been an exhausting trip for you. You've come such a long way to meet your husband." He cleared his throat to introduce himself, finally.

Your husband? Why is he referring to himself that way? Why didn’t he just say “to meet me?”

She started talking again, not able to keep herself quiet. She didn’t think she’d be so nervous to meet him! “Well, yes, it certainly has been an interesting trip. I met so many people. I’ve really enjoyed hearing the stories about their lives and why they were traveling. I’ve even acquired some addresses of those who became friends.”

“My wagon is just over here.” He pointed and then led her to it, easily lifting her luggage into the back.  “We didn’t know how much you’d be carrying with you, so we decided to bring it, rather than the buggy. It’s not quite as comfortable, but it isn’t too far to Coltonville. We’ll have you home and settled in before you know it.”

Gabrielle’s eyebrows lifted. “We—?”

Just then a woman approached, carrying two large bundles in front of her, one stacked atop the other. Gabrielle watched as her husband-to-be hurried over to her and took them from her arms.

Smiling with relief, she said, “Thank you, dear. You’re always rescuing me.” She slipped one arm around his waist and gave him an affectionate hug.

Gabrielle stood, her mouth falling open as she watched them walk over to the wagon. The man tossed the packages into the back, next to Gabrielle’s carpet bags.

“It’s my job to rescue you,” he said, smiling down at her. The affection they felt for each other was obvious.

Gabrielle didn’t know what to say. How could she marry a man who was clearly in love with another woman? Who was she? A mistress? What kind of arrangement had she committed to?

The couple turned and walked toward her. The woman’s hand was clearly tucked into the space at his elbow. 

“Dear, let me introduce you to Miss Gabrielle Petersen.”

Mattie’s eyes looked quickly at the beautiful woman standing near their wagon. “Oh! I didn’t realize I missed the arrival of the stagecoach, and I didn’t see you with the bundles piled in my arms. Welcome, my dear! We’re so glad you’ve come.” She hurried toward Gabrielle, reaching out her hand.

But Gabrielle didn’t return the greeting. Her blue eyes were huge, and the color drained from her already pale face. She found her voice. “Who are you?”

Mattie smiled warmly, her blue eyes twinkling. “I’m this old man’s wife. Please, call me Mattie.”

Gabrielle’s heart pounded hard, and she felt dizzy. “His
wife?
” She glared at him, fire in her eyes. She pointed a finger toward his face and placed her other hand firmly on her hip. 

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Mr. Dillingham, but I’ll tell you right now, I won’t have any part of it. I’m going back to—,” she glanced over to the stagecoach. “—I’m going right back over there and find a way to get back to Massachusetts right now!”

Clyde and Mattie Williamson stared at each other, shocked expressions on their faces.

Mattie gasped as she saw Gabrielle rushing toward the back of the wagon, reaching for her bags. Clyde hurriedly began speaking. “Miss Petersen! Please, wait. Let me explain.”

Gabrielle turned to look at him, one hand on the wagon. “I’m quite sure there’s nothing you can say to explain why you’ve sent for a wife, when you clearly already have a, a —” She turned her gaze toward Mattie, sheer disgust on her face and scowled, “a whatever you are!”

Anger threatened to overwhelm her, but she stood her ground and stared them down briefly, before turning back to her luggage and lifting one of her bags out of the wagon.

Clyde used his pulpit voice. “Gabrielle Petersen! My name is not Boone Dillingham!”

It worked. She turned to the couple once again, her eyes shrewd, her forehead wrinkled. She still clung to the bag. “What? What did you say?”

Mattie rushed toward her. “Dear, he said his name wasn’t Boone. Boone is our very good friend. My husband’s name is Clyde Williamson, and I’m Mattie.”

Gabrielle blinked her eyes rapidly and shook her head. She looked up into Clyde’s eyes. “You’re not my groom? You’re not Boone Dillingham? But you met me at the coach, and, and—”

Clyde and Mattie shook their heads rapidly, and answered in unison. “No!”

Gabrielle leaned to one side, dropped her carpet bag, and started laughing. She knew she’d better laugh or she’d start crying hysterically.

“You met me at the coach and—,” she laughed so hard she could barely speak, taking big gulps of air between phrases. “And I nervously talked so much, and so rapidly, that you never had a chance to introduce yourself!”

She took a deep breath, trying to gain control of her emotions. “Oh, my goodness! I must have looked so foolish to you!” One hand went over her mouth, and the other open hand flew up toward her throat. She giggled.

After a few more seconds, she found her self-control. She reached out her hand and said seriously, but with a huge smile on her face, “Hello, I’m Gabrielle Petersen. And, you are?” She firmly clamped her mouth shut and waited while Clyde and Mattie properly introduced themselves.

After the correct introductions had been made, she asked the obvious question. “So then, where is Mr. Dillingham?”

Mattie laced her arm through Gabrielle’s. ”Come dear. Do you like ice cream? There’s a wonderful little shop just down the street. You should have a little something, don’t you think?”

“Do they have a little whiskey?” Gabrielle joked as she walked with Mattie.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated comfortably inside a little coffee shop on the main street of Wiggieville, Texas.

“I just realized who the two of you are! Elizabeth Miller told me about you before I left. She said I could trust you.” Gabrielle paused and giggled.  “Well, that’s sure good to know.”

Mattie spoke first. “How sweet of her. She’s a dear, and I’ll want to know all about how she’s doing later. But for now, let’s talk about Boone, shall we?”

Gabrielle was more than ready to hear what she had to say. She nodded at Mattie.

“Boone is not here because he’s been injured and couldn’t make the trip,” said Mattie.

Gabrielle’s blue eyes widened and her heart sank. “Injured? Is he, I mean, will he be all right? Are we still to be married?”

Mattie patted her hand reassuringly. “Yes. Our son-in-law, Dr. Colby Clayton, was there when Boone fell yesterday. He took a severe hit on his head and has a concussion, but Colby says he’ll recover fairly quickly.”

Clyde studied Gabrielle’s face while his wife explained the situation. “Don’t worry, Miss Petersen. He’s a strong and healthy man. He’ll be back to his own self soon enough. He’s just a bit confused right now.”

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about whether he’ll know me or not. Since we’ve never even met. I guess my adventure is still going to happen! Let’s finish up. I’m ready to meet my future.”