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Katie: Bride of Virginia (American Mail-Order Brides 10) Page 3
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Dear God, she was a married woman about to experience a man for the first time. Part of her couldn't wait and the other part was terrified.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Daniel knew he hadn't given his new wife the kind of wedding night she deserved. He was kicking himself for not taking things slower, but the woman was beyond gorgeous and just one look at her creamy skin and all that long silky hair trailing down her back and he raced like a race horse around the track reaching the goal before she was out of the gate.
And then he listened to her softly crying herself to sleep. What kind of man did that to his wife on their wedding night?
This morning, he would try to make it up to her. Somehow he'd explain that sex between a man and a woman could be beautiful and loving. It was just he hadn't had a woman in a long time, and she was so damn beautiful that he'd forgotten himself. A twelve-year-old boy could have done a better job.
She rolled away from him last night and curled into a little ball, making him feel like he'd been so bad. She recoiled from him.
As the first rays of dawn lit the room, he rolled over and touched her. Her body tensed and he knew she was awake.
“Good morning, Katie,” he said softly.
“Good morning,” she replied.
Her voice sounded tired.
He sighed. How did he begin this conversation. How did he explain to a virgin that he knew he'd been too quick and rough last night and that if only she'd give him a second chance it could be better.
“About last night,” he began.
She jumped out of bed. “Let's not talk about it.”
“Give me a chance to explain,” he said.
She darted to the washbowl and poured a bowl of fresh water. “No explanation needed. What do you want for breakfast, Mr. O'Malley.”
Last night she'd been happy and this morning, she seemed to have thrown up a huge wall, not giving him access. “Normally, I just fix coffee and then go out into the fields. Mother likes toast.”
“Do you have eggs?” she asked.
They weren't having an argument, she refused to talk about what had happened last night. At least with a disagreement, he would have a chance to explain or make things right. She wasn't giving him a chance. She only wanted to discuss breakfast.
“Yes,” he said. “We have chickens. Martha usually comes over and fixes Mother lunch and also our dinner.”
“Fine. I'll fix breakfast and then maybe she can show me around the kitchen. I can cook if I need to.”
He watched in fascination as she pulled on her dress. “Katie, I promise you, the next time will be better.”
She glared at him in the darkness. “Who said there would be a next time?”
With that, she walked out the door, leaving him to stare at her retreating figure. Cursing beneath his breath, he hauled himself out of bed. They were married. Of course, there would be a next time.
But their situation was different from most married people. They'd met and married on the same day. There had been no courting, no warm-up. And a woman like Katie needed time. He'd do his best to convince her to give him a second chance to show her he could do better, but all he wanted was to pounce on her once again.
He'd been delivered a beautiful woman to become his wife and already he'd made her angry. That didn't take long.
#
Katie reached the kitchen just about the time the first sun rays brightened the room. Quickly she found the coffee pot and beans. Tears prickled her eyelids. What was she crying about?
Sure, she'd dreamed the first time she lay with her husband would be wonderful, but the reality had been it lasted maybe fifteen minutes and most of that time had been him grunting and groaning after he'd rammed into her. Then he'd tried to apologize this morning and she didn't want to hear his excuses.
Her first time should have been special. She didn't know what to expect, but surely lying with a man was more than someone on top of you shoving into your body. If not, she didn't want to experience it again.
He was her husband, and she would bend to his will, but the marital bed was someplace she would avoid as much as possible.
When he walked into the kitchen, she handed him a cup of coffee. “What time will your mother wake up?”
“She'll roll into the kitchen when she's ready. Just fix her some toast and give her either a cup of coffee or tea. That changes with her mood.”
After last night, the thought of spending time alone with her mother-in-law was daunting. She had to remember to treat her with kindness and to ignore her nasty comments. Maybe she'd be better this morning since she'd had time to sleep on the fact that her son had married.
“What time will you be back from the vineyard?”
“I'll be back for lunch,” he paused and gazed at her. “I promise you it will be better the next time.”
Katie wasn't going to give him the pleasure of a response. For years she'd dreamed about what her wedding night would be like and yet last night was nothing like what she'd imagined.
“Mr. O'Malley, I thought I would take a drawer in the armoire and hang my clothes in the wardrobe. I'll also spend some time with your mother today,” she said, keeping her back to him.
She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to see that last night her childish girlhood dreams of how it would be between her and her husband the first time had been a huge disappointment.
She didn't expect much out of life, since everyone she'd ever loved or cared about had died. She learned early on that you have to absorb the losses, move on, and continue smiling. But whenever she was hurt, it always took time before the voice of reason would have her smiling once again. She needed that time.
He turned her to face him. “Katie, you're so damn beautiful. Men sometimes can't hold back...”
She didn't want to talk about this. No amount of pretty words was going to make her feel any better. “Please, Mr. O'Malley, go to work.”
He sighed, reached up and kissed her on the cheek. “I'll see you at lunch.”
As he walked out the door, her chest ached. She had so many hopes and dreams and last night they'd come crashing down around her.
She turned back to the coffee and poured herself a cup of the bitter beverage. Sipping on the hot liquid, she gazed around the kitchen that not only needed a good cleaning, but organizing as well.
The sound of wheels thumping, announced the arrival of Mother O'Malley. “Good morning.”
The older woman scowled at her. “Why did you marry my son?”
“I needed a husband. Your son had placed an ad in the Grooms' Gazette and I answered the ad.”
“See, here is the part of the story I don't believe. My son would never put an ad in a newspaper for a wife. I don't know who you're trying to fool, but my boy would not marry.”
“Would you like your toast,” Katie asked, not wanting to disagree with the woman and hoping to change the subject. She wasn't going to argue with her.
“Yes,” she said sharply.
“Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee.”
Katie turned and started the toast for her mother-in-law, contemplating how she could get along with the woman. “Tell me about the house. Did you live here with your husband?”
The woman chuckled, the sound almost evil. “No, my husband's been dead for at least five years. Daniel bought this place not long after he got out of college.”
Her husband must have died while Daniel was in college. While it hadn't been that long ago, Katie couldn't help but wonder if his death was what made her so mean-spirited or was she like this before?
“I'm impressed.”
“If you married him because he has money, you are in for the shock of your young life. He's broke.”
Katie was a little surprised at this announcement. From what she could see it appeared that Daniel had money, but she knew that looks could be deceiving. The factory had seemed like it was doing well and then suddenly everything went wrong.
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br /> “Well, that makes two of us. I'm broke as well,” she said, trying not to make it sound as mean as she meant it to be, but life had not been easy for her either.
The old woman laughed. “He's about to lose the vineyard. You're going to be back on the street in no time.” She gave her an evil smile. “I hope for your sake, that you treat my son with more respect than his first wife. That didn't work out well for her.”
Fear spiraled through Katie, gripping her as an icy chill spiraled down her spine. First wife?
#
Daniel never mentioned another wife. He'd never called himself a widower. She swallowed the fear that rose inside her like a volcano, threatening to overwhelm her. Should she be afraid of her new husband? He'd seemed so kind until last night.
“I'm going upstairs to clean,” she told her new mother-in-law, knowing she needed time to think without her negative influence.
“Don't change anything,” his mother said.
“Why not,” Katie asked. From the looks of their bedroom there was so much she could do to make it better. “The house could use a thorough cleaning and straightening,” she said, raising her brows at the older woman. “Our home should shine for when we have guests.”
The old woman cackled. “Guests? We don't have guests, unless you think the sheriff is a visitor.”
A sense of uneasiness tightened her stomach, but Katie tilted her chin. “Any time he stops by, yes, he's a visitor. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get started.”
Katie hurried from the room, wanting to escape the bitterness oozing from the old woman.
Walking into their bedroom, she saw her virgin blood stained the sheets. Quickly, she stripped them from the bed and poured cold water on the spot, scrubbing at it until she feared she'd rub a hole in the cotton. Tears filled her eyes and her chest ached with disappointment. She'd had such dreams and yet none of them had come true.
Why did it seem her life had been one difficult situation after another. She was due some good fortune, and receiving Daniel's letter and the subsequent wedding, she'd thought her luck was changing, but now she wondered.
What had she gotten herself into? A husband who rutted her like a brood mare and now she learned he was about to lose his vineyard. But the worst revelation, he'd been married before.
Maybe the old woman was crazy. She hoped so.
What did she mean that didn't end well for her? Was she warning Katie to be wary of her own son?
Taking the sheets outside, she finished hanging them in the cold sunshine to dry. Her mother's voice filled her head instilling her with strength.
Work keeps the hands busy and the mind occupied.
Maybe she should just wait and talk to Daniel tonight when he came home. Taking a duster, she went into the bedroom she shared with her new husband.
She gave the room a thorough dusting, beating the curtains, sweeping the wooden floors and wiping down all the furniture. Picking up clothes, she rearranged the room to give more space. While her changes were small, at least she felt the room was cleaner and organized.
Opening the armoire, she folded his undergarments, handkerchiefs and socks, lining them into two drawers for him and two for her. In the bottom of his underwear drawer, she found a folded piece of paper. Opening the parchment paper, she read the document.
Death Certificate for Eloise O'Malley. Died, January 4, 1889. Cause of death--Exposure to Cold.
Fear rose and bubbled inside her chest. She swallowed as she stared at the paperwork. His first wife had been dead more than a year. Exposure to cold. What did that mean? Was she somehow locked outside or did she become lost? What had caused the death of Eloise O'Malley?
Staring at the death certificate, she hurriedly folded the document and slid it under his underwear, hoping he wouldn't realize she'd seen it.
With a sigh, she hurried down to fix him his lunch. Should she ask Daniel about his wife or should she wait until he told her the truth. Surely, he knew he had to tell her soon because someone other than his mother would let her know about his first wife.
#
When Daniel came home that evening, he was surprised to see his wife had given their cook the night off. He’d gotten busy in the fields and missed lunch completely, even though he’d promised her he would come in.
“Where's Martha?”
“Her grandson is ill, so I sent her home. Dinner is almost ready. Go wash up and then we'll eat.”
Walking into the bedroom, he noticed the way the furniture sparkled, the bed was made and even his dresser was cleaned off. The curtains were open to let in the setting sun and the room seemed brighter and cleaner. His wife had made progress today on his home and while that pleased him, he knew there was still much to do.
Eloisa had hated housework and told him to hire servants. The only servant they had in the house was Martha, the woman who cooked and also helped with his mother, giving her a bath. But today, Katie was cooking and from the smell of the meal, he couldn't wait to eat.
Pulling open the drawer, he realized she'd done what he told her and moved things around. Now his underwear were all folded nice and tidy, his socks and handkerchiefs were in order and--fear ripped through him. Hurriedly he searched to find the document he'd hidden. Eloisa's death certificate.
The parchment paper lay folded in the same drawer where it had been hidden. But had she opened and read the document? Had she learned he'd been married once before?
He should have told her last night, but he hadn't wanted to ruin the evening by talking about the past. Even now he just wanted to make up to his wife and get a second chance at making her happy. To show her that sex between them could be better than what she'd experienced last night. He'd made a huge mistake, letting his body take over and not taking his time.
Frankly, he'd been surprised she'd been a virgin. A woman who'd worked in a factory, lived on her own and had to take care of herself. Maybe he was being foolish, but he'd not expected her to be an innocent.
When he entered the dining room, his mother gazed at him from her chair at the table. “How is work in the fields?”
“Good. We're prepping the soil for the next season. Plus we're still straining the last batch of wine we produced. What about you, Mother, what did you do today?”
She laughed the sound almost vicious. “I broke in your new wife.”
There were times he hated his mother. Since her injury, she'd become a cruel old woman. The mother he remembered had disappeared and he wished something would bring her back. “I'm sure Katie was very helpful to you, Mother.”
“You can't lie to her anymore. She knows.”
“I haven't lied, Mother.”
“But you didn't tell her everything did you?”
Why did she make it sound so evil? A man didn't want to tell his bride about his first wife on their wedding night. It didn't seem right. And he hadn't been the one to send her that letter.
“Thank you for divulging that information for me. I had planned on telling her when the time was right. I didn't think that was appropriate talk the first night of our marriage,” he said sarcastically, wishing his mother would learn to keep her mouth shut.
The older woman cackled and he wondered like he often did of late, if she was losing her mind. Could illness destroy not only a body, but a mind as well?
“You'll pay for your sins,” she said softly. “I know what you did.”
“What do you think I did?” he asked. She thought he'd killed Eloise.
“I saw Eloise leave that night.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, wishing things were easier. She'd told him before that she saw his wife run out into the snow. But why?
The door to the kitchen opened and Katie carried a big pot to the table where she sat it down. “I just need to bring in the serving utensils. Mother O'Malley do you want anything besides water to drink?”
“I'm fine.”
Katie walked out.
“She's calling you Mother O'Malley. That has to
be a good sign.”
His mother glanced at him her brown eyes darkening. “No. Not really. It just means she's polite.”
“And polite isn't good?”
She shrugged. “It won't win me over.”
Shaking his head, he laughed. “I've been your son for almost thirty years and that hasn't won you over. I hardly expect her being here one day is going to give her any advantage.”
Once his mother had been a controlling woman, but now she was hateful and bitter and often times there was nothing nice about her. Yet, she was his mother and he prayed for the return of the mother he use to know.
“You're being impertinent.”
“Truthful, Mother, truthful. There's a difference. What happened to make you so angry?”
“You know what happened--”
“An accident. You've let a carriage accident turn you into an embittered old woman,” he said being frank. He was tired of her vile tongue and wanted peace in his house for a change.
“And whose fault--”
His mother stopped in mid-sentence when Katie walked in carrying utensils. She glanced between the two of them. “Am I interrupting?”
What could he say, the same argument he'd had for the last five years with his mother? Over whose fault the carriage accident was? Yes, it'd been his father's fault, but he was dead. It had cost him his life. But what could they change? It was too late and he just wished his mother would accept the accident and get on with her life in a happy way.
“No,” he said glancing at Katie. “We're waiting on you.”
She sat at the table, placing the spoons in the dishes. Waiting she glanced at him as he picked up his utensils.
Clearing her throat she said, “Grace? Do you not say grace at a meal?”
His mother laughed and looked at her son. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Of course,” he said, and bowed his head as he said the blessing.
Since the death of his father in a carriage accident and then with Eloise passing so mysteriously, he had all the trouble he could manage. Grieving his father, trying to help his mother and then his wife died. He was young. He wanted his life to be happy, not surrounded by grief and mystery. And Katie's bright smile was like a beacon in a stormy sea.