Michelle: Bride of Mississippi (American Mail-Order Bride 20) (10 page)

I
t was
all Anthony could do to sit through dinner and not say anything to Michelle about the tradition--or anything else for that matter. It had been almost a week since he’d given them all the bad news, and he’d not felt right since.

He glanced at Michelle out of the corner of his eye, her beautiful, red ringlets falling forward as she sipped her soup--the same soup they’d been having for several nights in a row.

He sighed as he looked at the girls. He could only imagine what they thought of him, forbidding them to do something they held dear. And something they’d wanted to do to honor their mother.

He sat back in his chair and looked back to Michelle. She’d barely said a word to him all week and he missed her. Missed talking to her, missed her smile, sorry that he wasn’t hearing long, happy babbling about what they’d done all day.

Surprised at how quickly he’d become so fond of her, his heart pinched at how quickly he’d lost her, too. In the blink of an eye--what must she think of him?

He owed her the truth. He should just tell her that he had no money. For better or worse, wasn’t what the pastor had said? His stomach flipped at the thought that she might decide to leave once she found out, but he needed to tell her. And soon. He certainly couldn’t continue like this with her avoiding him.

Either way, no matter what she decided, he had to take the risk. She deserved that. He’d never met a kinder, more generous soul--he chuckled at the thought that she might even be kinder than Adelaide, if that was possible. But he admired her generosity of spirit--to any person she met, but especially to him and the twins. She’d been nothing but kind, honest and giving.

He finished his soup and biscuits as quickly as he could. He knew that Michelle had asked Mable to give the girls a bath, and it would be the perfect time for him to tell her the truth.

“You girls ready?” Mable said as she cleared some of the dishes from the table. “Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up while the water boils and then we’ll head upstairs.”

Mattie and Missy picked up their plates and pushed their chairs back, smiling at Michelle as they left the room. He couldn’t help but notice that they hadn’t smiled at him.

He resolved again to tell her the truth and hope that she would change her mind about him, as it was clear that the three of them now thought him a callous, selfish lout.

Pushing back from the table, he stood and squared his shoulders. It was time, and he took in a deep breath as he held out his arm to his wife, hoping she’d take it for the first time in a week.

His stomach fluttered as she smiled up at him and stood, looping her arm through his. This was certainly different, and his heart warmed with hope that he might be able to explain--and that she might accept his apology.

He shook the thought away as he realized that he’d have to tell her the whole truth. That he had no idea how long they’d be able to stay in this house and that the business had only another month or so before he’d be forced to close, with no idea how they’d support themselves after that. But he had to tell her. She had every right to know what she’d gotten herself into.

She stood beside him as he stoked the fire, almost as if she knew he wanted to tell her something but couldn’t find the words. He turned quickly at her voice while he was still trying to decide what to say.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something. Something important.”

He set the iron poker back in its stand, wishing he’d started first. He really needed to get this over with.

“Of course. Anything. You are my wife, after all,” he said, cringing as he said it. She might only be his wife for a short time longer, and the thought made him feel empty inside.

He stiffened as she walked closer to her, her scent curling around him. Magnolia? Vanilla? It still intoxicated him as it had the first day they’d met.

Her red hair seemed to be flecked with gold as the light of the fire flickered. She smiled and reached for his hand and he looked down at it, her warm touch flooding all the way through him.

“I...I ran into Miss Davis today in front of the drug store.”

His eyebrows rose along with his curiosity. “Oh?” He had plenty of time to tell her what he needed to, and now he wanted to know what Miss Davis had said. She’d always been a terrible gossip and he’d never liked her at all.

“Yes. She told me something, and I need to ask you to be honest with me. I need to know if it’s the truth or not.”

He looked into her eyes as she gazed up at him. They were as deep as he’d learned her heart to be, and he felt he could become lost in them, if she’d let him.

Michelle cleared her throat, looking away awkwardly before she turned back to him, meeting his gaze once more. “I don’t quite know how to say this, and I’m sure you would have told me if it were the case. But she said that you had no money. That you--your family--are penniless.”

The air whooshed out of him and he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. She already knew. He supposed that was a good thing, as now he would find out what she was going to do--and he sincerely hoped she’d stay.

He nodded slightly, heat creeping from is collar. “I’m afraid it is true, Michelle.”

She released his hand and took a step back, and he winced at the hurt in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, the light of the flames glinting from the tears brimming.

“Michelle, I wanted to tell you. I really did. I’ve been working very hard to resolve the issue, and was hoping that it would happen more quickly than it has. And then all would be well. And I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

He frowned when she recoiled at his words as if he’d struck her. He knew she came from poverty, and probably was terrified at the thought of returning to it. It was understandable--most women would feel that way. He steeled himself for her words, ready for her to tell him that he would lose the woman he deeply cared about--before he’d had a chance to even tell her.

They both looked up at the kitchen door as Mable ushered the girls through, a pail of water in each of her hands. “Don’t mind us, we’re heading upstairs,” she said, smiling at them.

Michelle swiped at her cheek and looked at Anthony. “Here, let me help you with that,” she said as she turned and took a pail from Mable, following them up the stairs without a backward glance.

“
W
hat’s wrong
, Mrs. Michelle?” Mable asked as she closed the girls’ door behind them.

She poured the water in the tub and looked at the girls and then back up to Mable.

“You girls brush your hair and get ready for your bath. I’ll be right back,” Mable said before she opened the door, grabbed Michelle’s hand and pulled her down into her own bedroom.

“You best tell me what’s happening. I know you and Mr. Anthony haven’t spoken to each other for a whole week. The girls have noticed, too, and asked me what they should do.”

Michelle climbed up and sat on her bed, her face in her hands. “He lied to me, Mable. He has no money and he lied to me.”

Mable’s eyebrows rose and she leaned against the wardrobe. “Did he, now?”

“Yes, he did,” Michelle said as she looked up and squinted at Mable. “You knew too, didn’t you?”

“I’m not going to lie to you. Yes, I did.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What of it?”

“What of it?” Michelle cried, grabbing the post of the bed and standing. She crossed over to her nightstand and picked up the crystal bowl. “None of this is real. Not this,” she held up the bowl and then set it down, crossing over to the wardrobe and opening the door, “or any of this.” She waved her arms around the room.

“Miss Michelle, what is real is in the eye of the beholder, don’t you think?”

She stopped, frozen in the middle of the room as she listened to Mable’s words. “What do you mean? He lured me out here under false pretenses. He told me--”

“Told you what? That he would take care of you? That the girls and I needed help? That
he
needed help?”

She sat down on the bench of the vanity, her hands folded in her lap. “Well, yes, but--”

“Are all those things true? Has he helped you?” She shoved a lock of her gray hair back and re-arranged her hairpins.

“He has, but--”

Mable held up her palms and said, “Mrs. Michelle, I’ve known Mr. Anthony since the day he was born. The family, too. These are kind, loving people. And he is, too.”

“I thought the same thing until he forbade the girls from fulfilling their mother’s Christmas tradition. It was just cruel, and no matter what you say, he’s dishonest and insensitive.”

“Girl, I thought you were smarter than this.”

She gasped and turned quickly to the older lady. “I...I...”

Mable stood and crossed over to the window. “Think about all the things he’s done for you,” she said, pointing to the wardrobe. “He actually sold things--things that meant something to him--to send you the money for these dresses. Said he wanted you to be comfortable, and it was the least he could do.”

Michelle stood and walked to the wardrobe, running her fingers over the gleaming fabric.

“He hooked that buggy up for you and walked to work in the cold, just so you and the girls could have a day to yourselves. Even had to walk home freezing, as it turned out.”

Michele’s heart sunk like a stone as she thought of all the things he had done, and how quickly she’d turned away when he’d told them the tradition wasn’t possible this year.

“Mable, why didn’t he just tell me? We’re supposed to be husband and wife. No secrets.” Michelle hung her head. “I didn’t want any of these things. I just wanted to be here.”

Mable shook her head as she reached for Michelle’s hand. “There’s something about southern men--I imagine men everywhere, honestly--that makes them want to take care of their families. And Mr. Anthony’s been accustomed to a certain way of taking care of people. It’s only recently that it’s been different, and it certainly was an extra surprise when Adelaide died. He didn’t come out of the house for a week, I swear, when he found out she was gone. And then, when the girls arrived out of the blue--well, it hasn’t been an easy year for him. Top that with the business not doing well and I think he’s been little overwhelmed. Don’t blame him for trying to stay afloat, not rock the boat.”

She sat down slowly at the vanity, thinking of the talks they’d had, how Anthony’s eyes had clouded when he spoke of his sister. Why hadn’t she been able to help more? Why hadn’t they been able to communicate?

Mable continued. “He and Adelaide were very, very close. Two peas in a pod, those two, once Adelaide told him what to do.” She laughed and walked to the window. “I can still see them now--Adelaide telling him where they were going and what they were doing and him tagging along, always helping her with her schemes. He really is a very kind man, Mrs. Michelle.”

Michelle looked up into Mable’s kind eyes as she sat beside her. “I thought the same thing. In fact, I had really grown fond of him.”

Mable threw her head back and laughed. “Isn’t a blind man who couldn’t see that. And him, too, I’d venture to guess.”

Michelle flushed, and she fanned her face with her hands as Mable laughed. “I see I was right.”

“I just--things were going very well until he told the girls that they couldn’t continue in their mother’s tradition.”

Mable sat down beside her and took her hand, patting it and looking into her eyes.

“It wasn’t just their mother’s tradition. It was his, too. He and Adelaide started it when they were about the same age as the twins.”

Stunned, Michelle turned questioning eyes to Mable. “I don’t understand. If it was his tradition as well, why didn’t he want to do it this year?”

“Oh, my, do I need to drop a brick on your head? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He’s about down to the last of the last, and we gotta eat.”

“Oh,” Michelle said as she realized the truth in front of her. She’d assumed an awful lot, and if what Mable said was true, he needed to know what she and the girls had been up to--that there
could
be a gift event this year on Christmas Eve for the needy kids in town, just like always.

She jumped up and kissed Mable’s cheek. “Thank you. It seems we haven’t been communicating very well. I really appreciate your help.”

“You wouldn’t be the first couple to speak different languages. His parents were the same until they got some sense talked into them, too. Now go find him and clear this all up. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve and you have work to do.”

H
ow did
everything go so wrong? Anthony stared the fire and breathed in the pine scent of the Christmas tree, the one he and the girls had put up just before Michelle arrived. Christmas had been such a joyful time for him growing up but now--even with his surprise, it was going to be very different.

How had his parents stayed happily married for such a long time? To be fair, he and Michelle hadn’t had much time to work things out or really get to know each other, but he knew that he wanted her back, the way she used to be before she’d found out. He hadn’t realized how he felt until this past week when she wouldn’t speak to him and he missed their friendship more than anything. It had been lonely for him the past few years, and he’d had no idea how much so.

He’d started water boiling on the kitchen stove for coffee while the women were upstairs, and he looked up in surprise as Michelle slowly pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open. Her red curls dropped in almost before she did as she bent forward and peeked inside.

He stood as his breath caught in his throat. He supposed she’d gotten over the shock and had come back to give him a proper thrashing--which he figured he deserved. He hadn’t been very good husband so far and wished he’d done things differently.

He squared his shoulders, ready to take what she had to dish out, his mind fumbling for anything he might be able to say to make things better. She inched slowly into the kitchen, her eyes down as she sat at the kitchen table across from him.

“Thank you for coming back,” he started as she just looked at him, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. He frowned, confused.

“I shouldn’t have left in the first place. I should have asked more questions, given you a chance to explain. I owe you an apology, Anthony.” She tugged at her sleeve as she looked up at him from under her lashes.

“You do?”

“I do. Mable explained everything, and I feel awful for all the things you did when you didn’t have any money. You didn’t have to, you know.”

He stood and crossed over to her side of the table, taking her hand in his. His elbows on the table, he leaned down to look into her eyes.

“I wanted to, Michelle. I wanted to do those things and more. I just couldn’t. Can’t. Not yet, anyway. I do have something I’d like to show you, though.”

Puzzled, she reached for the hand he extended and followed as he picked up a lantern and opened the door to the root cellar. She hadn’t been down there since she first came, and she stepped slowly down the narrow, steep stairs, holding onto his hand.

As they reached the bottom, he pulled her around in front of him and lifted the lantern high, smiling broadly as he looked around the room.

Michelle gasped as she followed his gaze. Except for the one tea set and the jars of canned fruits and vegetables, it had been empty. Now, it was stacked from floor to ceiling with what looked like all types of toys, from wooden trains to building blocks. There were even several board games--chess and dominos included.

“Anthony, are these what I think they are? For the kids in town?”

He laughed, his hand on his hip. “Exactly that. I felt so awful that I’d dashed your and the girls’ hopes, I had to do something.”

She followed his gaze toward where the silver tea set had sat and looked up at him as he looked away. “You didn’t sell your mother’s tea set, did you? It was the last you had of hers, Mable told me.”

“I did. I decided that Mother, Father and Adelaide herself would have wanted it that way. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. After that, I started a collection at the store. Told everyone we needed donations and before I could look twice, the barrel I’d put outside the store was full of toys of all kinds.”

“I...I...” Michelle wiped back a tear and looked up the stairs as Mattie and Missy barreled into the kitchen in their nightdresses.

“Are you down there?” Mattie said, her head poking through the door.

Michelle and Anthony exchanged glances. She whispered, “Call them down and tell them. They have something to show you, too.”

She stepped back as Anthony called his nieces down the stairs, their eyes wide and mouths open as they looked about the room by the light of the lantern.

“Are these for the tradition, Uncle Anthony?” Missy asked as she beamed up at her uncle.

“They are.”

Mattie folded her arms over her chest, her eyes twinkling. “But you said we weren’t doing it this year.”

“I did. But I guess I changed my mind.” He looked at Michelle and reached for her hand. “About a lot of things.”

The girls giggled and Mattie said, “We have something to show you. Come on.”

Michelle grabbed the lantern as each girl grabbed one of their uncle’s hands and pulled him up the stairs. She lifted her skirts and followed, winking at Mable as they passed by and gesturing for her to follow.

“Sit down right here and close your eyes,” Mattie instructed as they pushed him into the overstuffed chair by the fire.

He laughed and looked up at Michelle before he put both of his hands over his eyes.

Michelle reached for Mable’s hand and squeezed as the girls both grabbed a handle of the steamer trunk hidden in the corner and pulled it over to their uncle’s knee.

“You can open your eyes now,” Missy said as Mattie reached for the lid and threw it open.

Anthony lowered his hands, blinking at the steamer trunk full of stuffed animals and dolls in front of him. He looked from the girls to Michelle, his mouth agape.

“Where...how...” His heart swelled as he looked at his beaming nieces.

“We collected them before we got here but didn’t know how to fix them. Michelle taught us how to put on new eyes and hair and fix their clothes, and we did. They’re all ready to give away to new children. They need new homes, just like we did.” Mattie reached for her sister’s hand.

Anthony reached out for the twins, his heart aching and full. They were definitely their mother’s daughters and he was filled with joy that he had at least a part of Adelaide to remember.

“I guess we’ll be pretty busy tomorrow. I don’t think we’ve ever had this many toys. You girls are amazing.” He looked up from the twins over to Michelle and Mable. “All of you.”

Mable dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron. “Come on, girls. Let’s get you off to bed. Tomorrow will come awful early and you need some sleep.”

“Thank you, Mable,” Anthony said as she shooed the girls up the stairs. “For everything.”

She turned and winked at him before lifting her skirts and chasing after the twins.

Anthony shook his head and stood, his hands on his hips as he looked at the trunk overflowing with toys. “So you did this anyway, even though I said we couldn’t?”

“Oh, I suppose I did.” She hid a smile behind her hand as he moved closer to her, pushing back a red ringlet.

“I see. You didn’t tell me the truth, either.”

She scrunched up her nose and smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I suppose I didn’t. Does that make us even?”

He laughed and reached for her chin, lifting it toward him. This woman that had virtually dropped into his life was fascinating--with a most generous heart. Just as he’d always wanted.

He couldn’t resist her sparkling eyes as she smiled up at him. His stomach fluttered as he leaned in and pressed his lips against her warm ones. Would she stay? Did she want to be his wife, as he knew now he wanted her to be?

He pulled away and lowered his hand, pleased that she was still smiling.

“Can you forgive me, Michelle? It wasn’t my intention to deceive you. Truly.”

“You told me the truth now, even after I’d treated you horribly. I’m ashamed of the way I behaved. Truth be told, I don’t really care about
things
. I’d be happy anywhere with this family.” Her cheeks turned crimson as she looked down at her hands.

“Will you stay, then? You should turn tail since I lied to you.”

His heart lifted as she held a finger to his lips. “I understand everything. Thank you for working so hard to take care of the girls--and me.” She looked up into his eyes, and he sighed as he brushed back a curl from her beautiful face--his beautiful Michelle.