Chapter 3
To Bridie’s surprise, she found herself settling into the new surroundings far more quickly than she would have expected.
Yes, Texas was worlds apart from Ireland—and even farther from the crowded streets of Boston.
But the home into which she was welcomed was warm and comfortable, even if it was far fancier than anything she had ever encountered—or even dreamed of.
The interior of Jedediah McHale’s house was just as pristine and elegant as the exterior.
As she had suspected, she was met by a veritable platoon of housemaids and housekeepers, a cook, a butler, and a handful of other laborers who fulfilled a miscellany of tasks around the house and across the property.
“I’m so sorry,” she said at last, halfway through the introductions. “I’m afraid I’ll never be able to remember all your names!”
The assembled staff chuckled; Jedediah McHale grinned.
“That’s all right,” he said. “We don’t stand on ceremony here. They’ll remind you. The important thing is,” he added, taking her arm to lead her further into the house, “is that they know who you are. Miss Bridget Hamilton of Boston, Massachusetts.”
“Please,” she said to the room at large, “please call me Bridie. Everyone does.”
Jedediah McHale smiled down at her, obviously pleased, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.
“I don’t suppose that invitation extends to me,” he said.
Why was she feeling a blush stealing over her cheeks? It was a reasonable enough question, after all.
“Of course,” she said, lifting her chin and hoping that he wouldn’t notice her face turning pink.
“Good. We’re going to be friends. It’ll be startin’ off on the right foot, and we’ll get on first-name terms right away.”
“Shall I call you Jedediah, then?”
He laughed. “Not unless you’re angry with me. All I can hear when someone says ‘Jedediah’ is my ma callin’ for me across the lawn, about to take me to task for some mischief or other. No, call me Jed, if you please.” Another grin. “Everyone does.”
His informal manner seemed rather at odds with the splendor of the house, yet she found it drew her to him even more.
Besides which, she could easily imagine a younger Jed McHale getting into mischief and being scolded by his mother.
It was an appealing picture in her mind, so she tried to dismiss it at once.
What with the roster of staff living on the premises, there was little danger of gossip spreading about Bridie taking up residence in the house even before their marriage vows were said.
She was ensconced in comfortable quarters on the second floor—the room itself was nearly as large as the home she had left behind, and she let out a long sigh when she was left alone there for the first time.
“This,” she murmured aloud, “will take some getting used to.”
Or perhaps not… she amended to herself, silently.
The next day, she was left alone as much as she liked; the housemaid brought her coffee and breakfast in the morning and took care to assure her that she must rest up after her strenuous journey.
It had been strenuous; Bridie found that it had tired her out more than she’d realized, looking back on it.
But more than that, she found that she missed her family desperately now that she had arrived in Texas.
She was acutely aware of the vast distance between the home she had left behind and the place she now found herself—and would she ever return? At times, it seemed impossible.
Better, she thought, that her family should come here.
The good Lord knew that there was plenty of room for them in this grand house!
After breakfast, she wandered the halls, evidently free to explore as she pleased.
Yes, plenty of room—she could put her parents up on the third floor, and they’d have more space to themselves than they’d ever had in their lives as a couple…
Ella would have her own room for the first time in her life…
Hastily, she caught herself mid-daydream.
No, there was no point in bringing them here.
She didn’t intend to stay herself. But if her plan went as she hoped and she made her way to Ireland, perhaps, in time, she could bring them over as well.
From the look of things, Jed McHale certainly had enough money to do so.
Not for the first time, it occurred to her to wonder how on earth Jed McHale had ended up writing for a bride—and what the acquaintance between him and her father had been based on.
It wasn’t just Texas that was worlds apart from Boston; it was also the life that the McHales evidently led, especially compared to the lives of the Hamilton clan.
The question stayed with her throughout the day, even as she relished exploring, lounging around, and being catered to—all of which were rather new experiences for her.
The chief joy of the long, slow day was in finding the library at one end of the house.
It spanned two stories, with a vaulted ceiling and windows longer than she was tall; the sheer number of volumes filling dozens of shelves made her mouth water.
She was still there when the door opened to admit Jed McHale.
Her eyes flew wide as she looked up at him, suddenly realizing she hadn’t asked a soul whether she might explore as she had been doing—let alone paw through his books! But he only laughed.
“Why, hello there, Bridie—you look as guilty as a dog diggin’ in the flowerbed.”
“Hello, Jed—yes, I suppose I do feel a bit guilty.” She laughed, too, relaxed by his obvious unconcern. “After all, I ought to have asked permission before I started looking through your things.”
He shrugged. “I’d hardly have expected you to simply sit all day—unless you wanted to, of course. Besides, we’re going to be married soon, Bridie. What’s mine is yours.”
Once again, she felt her cheeks grow hot and averted her eyes from the intensity of his gaze.
“I mean to ask you about that,” she said. “I don’t know whether you had a date in mind…”
He shook his head.
“I reckoned there was no point in rushing things,” he said.
“You had a long way to travel to get here, and we don’t really know each other at all.
We ought to know each other at least a little before we say our I do’s, I figure.
It’s only right that you should take the time you need, however much time that might be.
” He turned away from her, fingertips lightly smoothing the rich golden grain of the table beside him near the threshold. “I’ll wait for your word,” he murmured.
With him looking away, she found that she was able to rest her gaze on him once more. He was very handsome, she thought—but it was the kindness in his face that caught her attention again and again.
“Are you certain that it will be worth it?” she asked slowly. “Waiting, I mean…”
He nodded.
“I’m sure.”
The confidence in his voice was unmistakable, though she couldn’t help but wonder from where it stemmed.
Perhaps the guarantee from the matrimonial agency carried more weight with him than she would have expected.
Still, it seemed odd that a man like this would choose to hitch his wagon to the hope of happiness with a complete stranger.
She decided it was too much, too soon to question it.
“Thank you,” she managed at last. Seeming to understand her dilemma, he nodded and let it go at that.
“I’ve come to collect you for supper,” he said, holding out an elbow to her. “Hettie says if we’re as little as a minute late, we’ll ruin it.”
She chuckled, already feeling a bit more relaxed, and stepped forward to take his arm.
“I’m sorry I was away the whole day,” he went on as they made their way down the hall toward the dining room. “It’s busy at the mercantile this time of year—and I’ve had to hire on a few new workers, too, all of whom need training. I reckon they’ll shape up to be good workers, though.”
“I see. Local boys?”
“One local boy and one young mother of two, whom I expect to whip the rest of my employees into shape by the end of the week.” He smiled at her expression.
“They’re a nice, honest family who’ve fallen on hard times.
I’ve known Melinda Barton and her husband, Charles, their whole lives—Melinda’s as hard a worker as any man I’ve ever met, and I’m glad to have her. ”
It did him credit, Bridie thought, that he was just as willing to pay a woman as he was to employ a man—she rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
“Perhaps you ought to hire me on, as well,” she suggested.
He laughed. “Not worried about gettin’ bored here in Galveston, are you?”
“Well, there isn’t much to do at your home,” she replied with a shrug. “Goodness knows you have the most extensive household staff I’ve ever seen—and then some!”
He waved a hand as they rounded the corner and stepped into the dining room. “If you want to work, you can work to your heart’s content,” he said. “I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t do whatever makes you happy.”
She caught herself mid-gape and forced herself to close her mouth, turning her gaze from him.
Her confusion at this unexpected generosity of spirit was so overwhelming that she was intensely grateful to have an excuse to turn her attention elsewhere.
Jed pulled her chair out for her and waited politely for her to sit before stepping to his own, and she busied herself with folding her napkin primly and pretending to admire the silverware.
The problem was that she had allowed herself to form opinions about Jedediah McHale well before she met him.
Almost from the moment that her father told her she was to be matched, in fact—the sort of man who needed to write for a mail-order bride was not the kind of man she would expect to be kind, welcoming, and warm…
…and a little bit wonderful…
But perhaps it was more expected than she would have thought that such a man would be rather unconventional in his approach. She steeled herself against the growing warmth in her heart and, as supper was served, turned the conversation to her earlier question.