“Good. Well, you let me know when. Sally usually naps from about one to three, so I have those hours free. I don’t mind chatting while the baby is up, but she can be a handful.”
The warmth in Beatrice’s voice left no doubt in Toria’s mind about how the other woman felt about her adopted baby. “I love children, and I don’t get to be around them nearly enough.” She’d once babysat for her nephews and nieces, but as soon as they’d become too unruly, she’d stopped—and that hadn’t taken long. They were referred to as the demon horde, after all.
“Well, then we won’t worry about when you come. I almost always have fresh cookies, and I can put water on for tea.”
Toria jumped at a knock on the door. The mysterious woman who kept appearing and disappearing was turning her into a nervous wreck. She watched as Beatrice hurried for the door, getting to her feet. She brushed her dress down, making sure it looked perfect.
Mortimer stood at the door with his hat in hand. “Are you ready?” he asked Toria, and she nodded. He still didn’t look exactly pleased with her, and she thought hard about what she could have possibly done wrong to upset him as soon as they met.
“Yes, just let me fetch my bag.” She’d left it in the kitchen, so she hurried to get it. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Beatrice. I really appreciate it.”
Beatrice smiled, hugging her quickly. “Remember to visit as soon as you can!”
“I will.” Toria let Mortimer take her bag and took the arm he offered her. “Thank you for letting me clean up before the wedding. I can’t imagine how I would have felt marrying without at least washing my hair.”
Mortimer smiled at her, but his smile was tight. She still felt wrong to him. “You look lovely.” It was the truth, though not the whole truth. She’d have looked a lot lovelier if she’d looked just like his Grace.
“Thank you.” Toria scrambled for a subject to discuss with him, not ready for silence between them. “How far is it to the church?”
“Not far. We have a new pastor here in town. He’ll be the one marrying us.”
From his tone of voice, she gathered he didn’t really care for the pastor, but he was all they had. “Do you go to church regularly?”
He nodded. “Now that we have a pastor in town I do. I went to Bachelor for church at least every other week before, but it wasn’t always safe to make the drive.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a very narrow road with a steep drop-off. Beatrice lost her parents there.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“It is. She’s happy now, but she came into town right after they died and had to marry immediately. It was the only safe thing for her to do.”
Toria frowned. That was the second time people had mentioned safety in this town. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? “I’m glad she found someone who was good to her, then.” She glanced up as she realized they’d reached the church. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Mortimer. It was really the first time she’d studied him. He had brown hair with a receding hairline, and brown eyes. His eyes were actually very nice.
“Are you ready to do this?” he asked. He almost sounded like he was dreading the wedding, and she wasn’t really certain why. He’d sent for a mail order bride.
“I am.” She knew nothing about him except that he was a widower, had a grown son, and ran a mercantile. It was so little to base a lifetime on. Hopefully they would be able to spend a good amount of time getting to know one another before the wedding.
Mortimer opened the door for the church and called out, “Pastor Theodore. Are you still here?”
A sour-faced young man responded from the front of the church. “Yes, I’m here. Are you ready to marry? I’ve delayed going home to wait for you.”
Toria frowned. “Thank you for waiting. I felt the need to clean up before I stepped into God’s house.”
The look on the man’s face changed, and he nodded. “That’s how everyone should be.”
“Shall we begin? I’d like to get my bride home and show her the house.” Mortimer hoped that the rest of the work had been done that day. Hannah had started Monday, and she’d worked Tuesday and Wednesday as well. It hadn’t been quite clean enough for Grace when he’d left. He needed it clean enough for Grace.
Toria took a deep breath, wondering again what on earth she was doing. Ten minutes later, it was all over. Pastor Theodore said, “You may kiss your bride.”
Mortimer leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. He felt strange kissing someone who looked so very different than his late wife, especially in a church. Eventually he was sure he would need to learn to treat her as his bride, but he just wasn’t sure he was ready for that, even though he had been sure he was.
Toria felt as if she’d been slapped in the face. Many men had tried to kiss her, but she’d been determined to save her first kiss for after her marriage. Now she was married and still unkissed. What was wrong with her that he wouldn’t kiss her?
After they’d left the church, Mortimer talked to her as they approached the store. “Grace and I ran this store together for fifteen years. She died five years ago. My son was angry that I was marrying someone else, even though she’s been gone for so long.” Now that John was out of the house, he was lonely. It was as simple as that. He shouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life being lonely to make his son happy.
“She sounds like she was a good woman. I’m not sure I could ever take her place, so I’m not going to try. I won’t be a replacement wife, I’ll be more of a new helper.”
Mortimer looked at her, surprised at her insight into how he was feeling. “I appreciate that.”
He led her up the stairs at the back of the store to his living quarters. He’d thought to have her sleeping beside him right away, but he realized she’d be more comfortable with a period of time to get to know him first. He showed her the kitchen, the parlor, and then the bedrooms. There were three bedrooms. One had been his and Grace’s, one John’s, and one had been Grace’s sewing room.
He opened the door of John’s old room and said, “Why don’t you stay here for now? As we get to know each other, perhaps we’ll decide it’s time to share a room.”
Toria nodded, the tears stinging the back of her eyes. She’d talked to Elizabeth about the possibility of asking for time before consummating the marriage, but it was as if he was rejecting her before she even had the chance to discuss it. “That will be fine, thank you.”
“The spare room was Grace’s sewing room, if you’d like to use it for your own purposes.”
She nodded once. She wasn’t sure she needed a sewing room, but she wasn’t going to say that just yet. “I thought you should know that I worked in a store back east. I did the books for the mercantile there, and I am perfectly capable of helping out in the store here…even doing the books, if you’d like.”
He gave her a surprised look. “You can do the books? Really?”