Chapter 1 #3
“I wish you’d stop that.”
“How else do I explain it? In the letters you wrote, you told me how he’d been losing his ability to remember or to think clearly. Last letter I got said he’d wandered off, and it took you half a day to find him.”
“My cook is supposed to watch him. Make sure he doesn’t wander away.” Keeping Pa supervised was getting increasingly hard. And Gil was not the help Zach hoped for.
“Gil, right?”
“I have to admit it bothers me to hear you talk about my family like you know them. Kind of scrapes along my nerves, if you know what I mean.”
Her green eyes glittered as hard as whatever that gem was called. He bet it took a lot of heat and many hard blows to soften that gem. Sure hope it didn’t mean the same for dealing with this woman.
“I know what you—your letters—whoever wrote them—told me. You’re nineteen years old.
Your mother is dead. You hired Gil to help as a favor to his mother who was your ma’s dear friend.
But he has a fondness for liquor so can’t always be counted on.
You have a new neighbor who is doing his best to drive you out.
I know the layout of your house. I know where it is in relation to the barn.
I know you have several hundred head of cows on free range.
” Her eyes glittered. “Anything I’ve forgotten? ”
He shuddered visibly, letting her know how much this disquieted him. “And I know almost nothing about you.”
“In my letters, I told you I am eighteen.”
Young, just like him. But not information he already had. This was more than a little unnerving. He brushed aside any discomfort as she continued.
“My sister and I were orphaned when I was ten and she was twelve. Our grandmother took care of us in Righteous, Ohio, where we finished growing up. My sister went to New York before we started to correspond.”
Why did her voice catch like the words had grown too big to escape her throat? He shrugged. Apart from the shock of learning she had no home and no future with him.
“How long ago was that?”
“Three months.”
“And Poppy’s mother?”
“She was a dear friend. We attended school together.” Her voice caught again, obviously finding it difficult to speak.
“May I ask what happened to her?”
“She got sick and died.” Her voice was low, the words broken.
He understood how sorrow could do that to one’s speech and again felt a reluctant pity for her.
They would soon arrive at the ranch. His nerves twanged like frosty wire at the dread of what he might find. “Seems I never come home without some disaster awaiting me.”
“I know.”
“How much did this person posing as me say?”
“He was pretty frank.”
Zach squirmed. “Please tell me he didn’t present me as a whiner.”
She laughed.
He kind of liked the sound.
“Not at all.”
“I have one question for you. Why would you want a mail-order marriage? Aren’t there lots of young men in Righteous, Ohio?”
She kept her eyes focused on the approaching buildings, taking her time before she answered. “None who would welcome Poppy.” She tightened her arms about the child and kissed the top of her head.
He dipped his gaze to the little gal who smiled up at Miss Pressly. “That seems odd. Why do I get the feeling you aren’t telling me something?”
She puffed out her cheeks. “It’s information you should already know, but seeing as you claim you haven’t read the letters I wrote—”
“Claim?” He sputtered. “Why would I fabricate such a story? Especially when it involves a child?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. Her breath puffed out. “I guess it won’t provide a reason for you not to marry me, seeing as you’ve already refused to do so. My friend was Poppy’s mother.” She swallowed hard and blinked twice. “Poppy was born of her immoral life.”
Zach examined each word for its meaning. “Immoral life? You mean she was a…” He sought for a polite way of saying it.
“A soiled dove.” Her rock-hard gaze held his like a vise—waiting for his response.
She pulled Poppy harder to her chest. “This child carries the shame of it. That’s why I didn’t stay in Righteous.
The people there would not accept her. The men either rejected me or thought I was like Callie.
That’s my friend. Grandmother said I should seek marriage elsewhere.
She thought I should keep the truth of Poppy’s mother a secret, but I can’t do that.
All I ask is that, whether you find that taints her in your sight or not, you keep the facts to yourself.
I know I can trust you to do that.” She gasped.
“I’m basing that on what I know of you from your letters, but here I am trusting a man I don’t know. ”
He wanted to argue, but what could he say? She thought she knew him from correspondence someone sent posing as him.
Who sent those letters? And why? Wasn’t his life complicated enough already?
He raised his eyes toward heaven, though he didn’t—not for one moment—think God had written them.
All the same, He could have prevented the writing if He had a mind to. If He had a care for Zach’s peace of mind.