Desperate Lola (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 2) (4 page)

T
he house was a revelation
. Elegantly appointed with heavily carved furniture, imported, plush carpets, and brocade draperies, it was refined excellence at its best. Mrs. Boles escorted me to my room, with Otto at my feet, the dog imposing in stature and slightly terrifying. His yellow teeth could easily snap my wrist in half with just a small shake.

“Otto’s quite domesticated. We’ve been letting him in the house for years. He won’t chew on your boots, if that’s your worry.”

“No,” I eyed the enormous dog dubiously, “that’s fine.”

She opened a door on the second floor, revealing a bedroom. “You are lovelier than I expected, if you don’t mind me saying so. When Mr. Kelly said he was bringing in a mail order bride, I must confess, I had my doubts. Why on earth would a woman come all this way to marry a stranger?” She smiled kindly. “He read a few of your letters to me. I hope you’re not upset. I should disclose that right from the start. I did enjoy reading about your life, Lola. I do believe you might just make Mr. Kelly happy. He’s been alone for too long.”

Her honesty took me aback, but I appreciated it greatly. “I hope Mr. Kelly and I will be happy together. I have all his letters with me, and I read them often.”

She lifted a hand. “Well, here’s your room, wallpapered in green, just like you asked. You’ll find clothes in that set of drawers over there. They might be slightly out of fashion, but something should fit, until your trunk arrives. The water closet is down the hall to your right. We’ve hot and cold running faucets, but the bath’s never really all that warm. It’s still a marvel we have one. You may freshen up before supper. Mr. Kelly eats at eight. I’ll let you know when he arrives.” She appeared thoughtful. “Do you want a little something sent up? Tea and cucumber sandwiches?”

“Yes, please. Lunch was rather sparse.” My belly rumbled at the thought. Being late afternoon, I would be able to have a nap as well, which I longed for. Despite having slept last night, it must not have been all that refreshing, and then the nightmares, which I could not remember, had left me ill at ease. “Thank you, Mrs. Boles.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced at the dog. “Come along, Otto. Out you go.” He had taken a seat at my feet, his hot breath fanning out over my arm. His blank look betrayed the fact that he had not understood a single word or cared to. “Otto? Let’s go now.” He remained unmoved. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” She approached him, grabbing his collar. “Out, you numbskull.” He moved begrudgingly, dragging his hind feet, which caught on the carpet. “I’ll be. That dog is more likely to bark at people than like them.” She pulled on his collar sharply. “Get out of Miss Parson’s bedroom!” He went, but with little enthusiasm, his tail tucked between his legs.

I had to giggle at the spectacle, because the dog was almost bigger than Mrs. Boles. “He’s a character, all right.”

“Oh, just badly behaved today. Goodness.” She had him nearly through the door. “Tea will arrive soon. Do make yourself comfortable.”

“I will. It won’t be hard. I adore the room. It’s truly lovely.”

“Mr. Kelly went through quite a bit of effort to make it special. He ordered the linens from Belgium, and the carpet’s from New England.”

Before I could say another word, she closed the door, leaving me speechless. I gazed at my surrounds, admiring the heavily carved four-poster bed, the wall of windows draped in green silk, and the gilt mirror over the dresser. I had never seen such opulence, bewildered that all of this was mine—or would be, once I married Jack Kelly.

I waited for the food to arrive, availing myself of several delicious sandwiches and tea before venturing to the water closet. Bathing in such a manner felt decadent, but I knew I could easily grow accustomed to it. The convenience of having water at will was truly a marvel of invention. Upon my return to the bedroom, Otto came upon me, sneaking into the room before I could close the door. I stared at the animal in horror, knowing I would never be able to coax him out.

“Oh, goodness gracious.” He sat upon the carpet, wagging his tail happily, while black eyes flashed with mirth. Nonplussed, I tried to ignore him, by drying myself and brushing out my hair, all the while he sat happily, licking his paw and making sloppy, chomping noises. “Must you be so loud?”

Dinner would not be until later, allowing for a nap. I climbed into bed, wearing nothing more than a chemise and drawers. I hadn’t the energy to peruse the clothing in the dresser, saving that task until later. Wanting to rest, I snuggled into the bedding, which smelled of soap with a hint of rose. The pillow felt like an enormous cotton ball beneath my head, and the comforter had been stuffed with goose down. I gloried in this, stretching my arms over my head and sighing.

The bed shook violently then, the frame creaking from the weight of something extraordinarily large, which had taken that moment to jump upon it. To my dismay, Otto had joined me, taking up nearly all of the bed, while he turned around in three circles, finding the perfect spot to drop to the mattress. I was not used to animals, especially one this size, having only had a cat once. The dog’s nose flared at my scent, his black, glistening eyes closing. I stared at him in vexation, realizing the beast meant to sleep with me.

“This can’t go on. If you even think you’re sleeping here tonight …” I let that threat hang in the air. Too exhausted to care, I turned to my side, staring at the wall, while visions of green wallpaper danced before my mind, before that eventually faded to black.

T
he feeling
that something enormous had just jumped to the floor woke me. The dog sat by the door expectantly, his tail wagging behind him. Someone had called his name from below, and he wanted out. Sliding from the mattress, I padded barefoot across the plush carpet.

“There you go.” He dashed from the room, down the hall and to the stairs. The wall sconces had been lit. It had grown dark out. How long had I been sleeping?

I hurried to dress, finding a peach-colored bodice with a matching skirt. The skirt had been trimmed with black frill, the bustle in the back exorbitant, but the style was modern enough. There were stockings and underthings as well. A freshly laundered corset would replace the one I had worn for days while traveling. Once dressed, I examined my face in the mirror, finding several new freckles from the time spent outdoors. I arranged my hair in a bun, first by braiding the lengthy strands and winding them tightly. I secured the heavy mass to the back of my head with dozens of pins.

Once ready, I ventured from the room, hoping to finally catch a glimpse of my husband to be. I hadn’t gone far when I encountered Mrs. Boles, who waited for me at the foot of the stairs.

“Aren’t you divine? I knew that dress would suit you.”

“Thank you. Where is Mr. Kelly?”

“He’s been detained. He sends his regrets. Supper is waiting for you.”

My spirits plummeted. “Detained?”

“Yes, on cattle business.”

“Oh.”

Otto approached, sniffing me. I petted his head, threading my fingers through a patch of soft hair. “Is he often at business so late?”

“Not usually.” Her smile faltered for a brief second. “But, I’m sure he’ll be in to see you very soon.”

I followed her into the dining room, which was furnished in dark wallpaper and heavy drapes. The table had been set with crystal and gleaming forks and knives. Only one place setting stood upon the burgundy tablecloth. Candles flickered, while a gas chandelier hung overhead. A servant arrived carrying a tray hidden beneath a silver dome. I sat at the head of the table, a solitary figure in the oversized room, while Otto remained by my side, breathing heavily at my feet.

The food consisted of stuffed steak with mushrooms and Chester Pudding for dessert. I could find no fault with the fare, although I would have preferred to dine with my fiancé, but that had not been possible. I heard voices at one point, wondering if Mr. Kelly had arrived at the house. Otto benefited from some of my meal, as it was far too much for me to consume in one sitting. I dropped several scraps into his eager, waiting mouth, while he eyed me happily.

I pointed a finger at him. “You won’t be in my bed tonight, sir. Not if I can help it.” Mrs. Boles appeared then, startling me. “I didn’t hear you.”

She smiled slightly. “Mr. Kelly’s arrived. He’ll see you now.” She seemed stiff; her shoulders had squared.

“All right.” I left the napkin on the table. “He was a rather good dinner companion.”

“That dog is a nuisance. I’m sorry he bothered you. It shouldn’t be a bother for long.” She waved to me. “Come this way. He’s in the study.”

I followed her, feeling a strange sense of foreboding, which settled into the pit of my stomach. The hallway was dimly lit with sconces and plush, red carpet. The heavily carved doors to the study remained closed.

Mrs. Boles knocked sharply. “She’s here.”

“Send her in,” said a deep male voice.

I hesitated before the ornate double doors, knowing something was amiss, but not having a clue what it was. Mrs. Bole grasped Otto’s collar, dragging the animal away, while I entered Mr. Kelly’s study, finding a wood paneled room lined with bookcases. He sat behind an enormous desk, which took up the center, leaving only a small seating area before a stone fireplace. Mr. Kelly’s attention remained on a piece of paper before him, and it wasn’t until I cleared my throat that he looked at me, blinking rapidly.

He was older, as I expected, with a full head of hair, although it had grayed above the ears, and a handsome, yet slightly lined face. This by no means took away from his attractiveness. He stared at me coldly, dispassionately.

“Hello,” I said softly.

Getting to his feet, he wasn’t particularly tall, although he towered over me by several inches. “Welcome to The Kelly Ranch, Miss Parsons.” He strolled out from behind the desk to shake my hand. “I hope your journey wasn’t too taxing. I’m sorry about the train.”

“It was an adventure.” I shook his hand, finding a firm grip, while his eyes traveled across my face. In that moment, I felt terribly vulnerable and frightened; both feelings seemed impossible to hide. I had known something was off. I had sensed this meeting might not go as expected, and by the displeased look on Mr. Kelly’s face—my hunch had been accurate.

“You’re beautiful.”

I would have gloried in this assessment, but he continued to look severe, his features bordering on angry. “Is something wrong, sir?”

“Indeed.”

It felt like a stone tumbled over in my belly. Did he know who I really was? Had my mother contacted him? Worse, had my stepfather? “What is it?”

“I find you lacking.”

“I … I … what?” Stunned, I could only gape at him.

“I had expected more from you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So I orchestrated a mechanical failure with the train, which was easy enough to do. I sent out one of my more charismatic ranch hands to retrieve you, telling him to employ as much charm as he’s able to test you.” His expression hardened. “And you failed the test.”

It was a full minute before the implication of his words seeped into my mind, shaking me awake. He had paid someone to break the train! Mr. Brittle’s ill-behaved and annoying attitude had been because his employer had hired him to act in this way—all to test me. “Was that necessary?”

An eyebrow lifted. “I say yes, and I’m glad I did it.”

What sort of man had I decided to marry? “Why would you do something like that, and how is it you think I’ve failed?”

“I require loyalty from those closest to me. I needed to know if a young and handsome face could sway you. You succumbed rather easily.”

“What exactly do you think happened out there?”

“You engaged in unseemly behavior with Mr. Brittle.”

“He kissed me. I had no desire for anything of that nature, I can assure you. He was ill-behaved and rude from the start.”

“Well, none of it matters now.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll be more than happy to pay for your ticket home, Miss Parsons. You may leave tomorrow.”

It felt as if my entire world had crashed down around me, ending as rubble beneath my feet. I stared at him, while my vision swam with tears. I hadn’t meant to embarrass myself in such a manner, showing a lack of control over my emotions, but I could not stop it. The thought of returning to Virginia, to conditions that were hardly ideal, left me with an acute sense of devastation and desperation. His cold, piercing eyes softened a smidgeon, the façade of anger slipping ever so slightly.

“You would just send me away? Just like that? You’d take that horrible man’s word over my own? You didn’t even greet me. You refused to eat with me. You blame me for something I didn’t do. You set me up to fail. If you didn’t want to marry me, you should’ve just said so, Mr. Kelly. It would’ve saved me from having to come all the way out here.” I took a deep breath, fighting a fresh wave of tears. “I find you lacking as well.”

He swallowed, because his Adam’s apple moved up and down. The only sound in the room came from a clock that sat on the desk, ticking away loudly.

I
turned
and hurried from the room, knowing I would burst into a fit of ugly tears, and I could not bear to have anyone see me this way. Grabbing for the banister, I stumbled up the stairs, the bottom of the skirt catching my boots. Twin rivers of tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto the lacy part of the bodice. Once I had reached the room, I shut the door behind me and collapsed upon the bed, landing in such a way breathing became difficult. Turning onto my back, I gazed at the ceiling over my head, staring at whitewashed plaster in an ornate design.

Mr. Kelly’s coldness had come as an unwelcome surprise. I felt shame that I had given into Chuck and kissed him, however briefly, but I had regretted it immediately. He had taken advantage of me, of my inexperience. The thought of returning to Virginia horrified me. I could not go home.

“I’m not used to people walking out on me, Miss Parsons.”

He had followed! I made no effort to look at him, lying on my back in abject misery. “Go away.”

“The discussion is not over.”

“You told me I had to leave tomorrow. What more is there to talk about?”

He approached, standing over the bed, while I labored to breathe, the corset pinching, digging into my flesh. He had removed his frock coat, leaving only the waistcoat over a pristine white and blue striped shirt. A loosened bowtie hung around his neck. I had been staring at him, marveling at the fact that he looked younger than I thought. The severity of his gaze, however, revealed his age. What would he look like smiling? To my chagrin he sat on the edge of the bed. Gasping, I propelled myself upwards, meeting his gaze directly.

“I … can’t … breathe.” The upset had wreaked havoc with my emotions, and I had not been able to stop crying, my chest heaving, struggling to obtain enough oxygen.

Concern appeared for the briefest second, but he schooled his features to return to their former starkness. “Let me help you.” He grasped the tiny buttons at the front of the bodice, loosening them, opening the material, which exposed a lacy corset. With surprising dexterity, he released the stays, without undressing me completely. I wore a chemise beneath, which concealed me fairly well.

“Thank you.” I fell back again, not wanting to look at him for another moment. “You may go now.”

He stifled a chuckle. “We need to talk, Lola. You were right on several points. I’ve been thoroughly chastised, but I suspect I deserve it.” He withdrew a handkerchief from a small pocket in his waistcoat. “You’re going to drown yourself, if you’re not careful.” He handed it to me.

“Thank you.” I dabbed at the tears, but more came. “I wish I could stop crying. It’s mortifying.”

“You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

“Not really. Traveling is taxing, but it was to be expected. What I hadn’t anticipated was you finding me lacking. I never thought I’d be sent back like an undercooked steak.” My eyes flooded yet again. “I’m terribly sorry for enduring Mr. Brittle’s unwanted advances. I’m not used to dealing with that sort of thing. If only I’d realized his intention was seduction, maybe I could’ve protected myself in some way.”

“I never should’ve sent him. I apologize for that.”

“It’s too late now.”

A hint of a smile appeared. “Not really. We’ve both made mistakes. Perhaps, we should put it all aside and begin anew.”

I wiped my face, wishing the tears would end. “Oh, this is intolerable.”

“Me?”

“No, my tears. I can’t stop crying.”

“You don’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“But you find me lacking. You can’t trust me.”

He had the decency to look remorseful. “I’m not going to dwell on that. It was badly done.”

I sat up, dabbing at the wetness on my cheeks. “You were supposed to marry me in Lamy. Is a wedding still going to occur?” He stared for the longest time, his expression enigmatic, yet something had begun to simmer between us—some sort of mysterious energy. It was odd, yet pleasing and entirely new. “Sir?”

“Why are you not married already? You’re one of the most handsome women I’ve ever met.”

Staggered by the compliment, I did not know if I could tell him the truth. “I’ve had suitors aplenty, yes. I just … don’t wish to live in Virginia.”

“Why not?”

“For … for adventure. I came here for adventure.”

“I somehow don’t think that’s the truth.”

“What about you? You’re not old and haggard looking like I thought you’d be. You seem just fine for appearance sake. You’re obviously rich as Croesus. I’m sure dozens of women would be more than happy to marry you. Maybe even hundreds.”

“I told you my reasons in the letters. I find the women here far too vulgar and independent. I’m looking for the opposite of that.”

“Now that you’ve met me, what do you think?” He remained silent, lost in a series of secretive thoughts. Tears threatened again, because I was certain he would deny me. “Sir?”

“Why don’t you wish to remain in Virginia?”

I ran a hand through my hair, catching a pin, which released a lock of hair. Twirling the strands around my finger, I suffered a twinge of nervousness. How would he react if I revealed the truth?

“Lola?”

“I had to go away,” I said softly.

“Why?”

“My stepfather is why.”

“What about him?”

In my letters, I had only ever painted him in a flattering light. “Because his interest in me … is disturbing. I didn’t want to upset my mother. I felt it better I leave.”

“You said they were excited about your upcoming nuptials.”

“They don’t know anything about it.”

“You lied.”

“I told a fib.” I twisted the hair over and over, my nervousness increasing by the second. “He disturbed me,” I whispered. “I always thought he was … strange, but when I found the hole behind the picture, I knew it was worse than I thought.”

“Hole?”

“He’d made a hole in the wall. He’d been watching me for a long time. I know he must’ve seen me undress and wash and things.” Embarrassment made my cheeks flame. “I can’t even think about it. He must have been watching since I was thirteen, if not younger. I find that disgusting.” Indignation left me gasping for breath. “Don’t you think that’s wrong? What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t live there. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.”

“If you’d married someone, you would’ve been mistress of your own home. You would’ve been free and clear in that respect. There’s no need to travel thousands of miles to the howling wilderness.”

“Yes there is.” Mr. Kelly’s angry expression had disappeared. He stared with compassion and interest, watching the way I played with my hair. “I never want to see him again. I thought it best I just go. I’ve written to my mother since, telling her I’m well. I’m sure she must be in hysterics with worry, but I’ve made my decision. If you send me back, I’ll be forced to live there again. I suppose I could marry someone—anyone, but … I would rather stay here and marry you.”

“You find me lacking.” The edges of his mouth twitched, as he suppressed a smile.

“You disabled a train full of people.”

“It was an unwise idea.”

“You made your bride-to-be sleep outside. I ate beans for two days.”

His hand closed over mine, preventing me from twirling the hair. “That is grievous indeed.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“About what?”

“My hair. What are you doing, Mr. Kelly?”

He rubbed the strands between his thumb and forefinger. Then he smiled in earnest. “The color of wheat, but prettier.” His gaze skimmed over my face. “Your eyes are all red.”

“That’ll go away.” A peculiar sense of warmth rushed through me. This discussion, and his behavior, had alleviated some of my fear. He wasn’t indifferent in the least, and he seemed willing to listen to my point of view. “What will we do?”

“I suppose we’ll have to marry.”

“Will we?” Hope swelled within me. Perhaps, all was not lost?

He smiled faintly. “Yes.”

Just minutes earlier I had been drowning in despair, but now relief and gladness replaced all of those emotions. On impulse, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I hugged him, saying, “I’m so grateful. You won’t regret marrying me, sir.” He had stiffened at the onset, but he held me as well, his arms forming a protective circle. “I’ll be the best wife I can, and, hopefully, we’ll be blessed with children.” He smelled of soap, brandy, and some form of tobacco. I drew away to look at him, because he had not said anything. “Don’t you agree?”

“And just like that you have me wrapped around your finger. Well played.”

“What?”

“I’ve listened to your explanation. I believe you, Lola. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, and I will marry you. We are strangers in essence, still, despite the fact that there are dozens of letters between us. To really know someone, you have to be with them every day and under every circumstance. I don’t delude myself into thinking this is a love match. I needed a wife, and I need an heir. You’ll provide both of those things adequately enough.”

“Adequately enough?” Some of the shine of the earlier conversation had dulled. “We came together in a strange way through an ad in the newspaper, but don’t you think we might be more than just a means to create a baby? Might we not be friends? Maybe something more?”

“Maybe.”

I frowned. “I’m not one of your cows. I had expected more.”

“Romantic love is a silly notion I don’t prescribe to. I’m a practical man, Lola. I’ve seen enough to know that passing fancies are just that. Passing fancies. That sweet glow wears off eventually, and all you’re left with is someone you thought you knew.”

Had he formed these opinions from his prior, dear departed wife? “I see.”

“So, now that we’ve settled that, I’ll have everything prepared for the wedding in the morning. Mrs. Boles will bring a dress you can wear, and we’ll finalize the deed.”

I stared at him, my mouth parted, although I had been rendered speechless.

“Lola?”

“Yes?”

“Is this agreeable to you?”

“I … it is.”

He smiled in satisfaction. “Good.” Getting to his feet, he slid his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

At a loss, I twirled hair around a finger, staring at him dumbfounded.

“Good night.”

“Good night,” I said softly.

Mr. Kelly strode from the room, closing the door behind him. “That was singularly odd,” I murmured to myself. “I guess he still wants to marry me, but what was all that blather about romantic love?” The evening could have ended worse, I surmised. I had been lucky not to be sent home.

Leaving the bed, I changed into my nightclothes, which I discovered in a drawer and washed my face and hands in a bowl of water on the dresser. Eyeing myself in the mirror, I glimpsed slightly sad eyes and a pale complexion. This wasn’t how I thought it would be. He seemed warmer in his letters and far more romantic. Had I been deceived or had I read more into his words than I should?

Sliding into bed, I turned down a lamp and lay my head on a pillow. Through the open window came the gentle lowing of cows in the pasture nearest to the house and the sound of chickens clucking in their coops. This and the ever-present cacophony of crickets would lull me to sleep. I had nearly succumbed after closing my eyes, but a scratching on the door roused me.

“What?” I left the bed to see what had created the noise. Opening the door, I found Otto waiting patiently. “Oh, it’s you.” His black eyes flashed, while his tail wagged happily. “Go to sleep.” He darted past me into my room, bounding upon the bed. “No!” Exhausted and irritated, I pointed a finger at him. “Out! You can’t sleep here. There’s no room on the bed for me, and I can’t sleep with a flea infested mongrel.”

He settled in the middle of the bed, sniffing his paw.

“Oh, please don’t let this happen.” I approached the bed, lifting the covers. “I’m going to have a discussion with Mrs. Boles about this. I shouldn’t have to share my bed with a small horse. When I’m married, I’ll be in my husband’s bed and there won’t be anything you can do about it.” I turned to look at him, seeing nothing but a dark shape next to me. “You don't really have fleas, do you?”

Otto ignored this question.

“Well, good night.”

This received no reply as well, but that was to be expected. I closed my eyes, while my mind replayed the events of the day. It was some time before I drifted into slumber, all the while listening to the noises of the farm and the soft snoring of the dog that had taken over my bed.