His Forever Valentine (4 page)

Now it
was Matthew’s turn to go pale. “What?”

“I think they’d make a fine match, don’t you?” Mrs. Davis cooed.

Matthew’s jaw tightened. “I think that’s for Charlotte to decide.” He glanced at her, and noted her shoulders visibly relax. “After all, if one is going to fall in love the good, old- fashioned way, instead of having it thrust upon them, then shouldn’t she be allowed to choose?”

“Coming from a man with a mail order bride,” Mrs. Davis said
with a raised brow.

“One my
mother
ordered for me. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, since your mother went through all that trouble,” Mrs. Davis remarked. “You might as well honor her
, and marry the girl.”

  Charlott
e’s face fell into shock. She recalled how hard her mother tried to get the last two mail order brides out of town.  Worse, she helped her! She turned and studied a shelf of books, her face red with shame.  She didn’t want Matthew to see it, especially after he just defended her right to choose her own beau.

“Charlotte, you will be having tea
this afternoon with Matthew and his betrothed, so make sure you look decent for Mr. Turner.”

Charlotte spun around, but her mother was already leaving, carrying enough
self- satisfaction to put a hole in the floor.  Her sudden fury with her mother took Charlotte by surprise and she gasped, just as the mercantile’s doors closed. “Ohhhh!”

“I take it
you don’t fancy, Mr. Turner?” Matthew asked casually.

“My mother has no right to … to …”

“Tell you who to marry?”

  She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Exactly!”

“Really? Think of how
I
feel.”

Her face softened. “Oh. Yes, you have … well …”

“A point?”

She went to stand beside his chair. “Don’t you want to get married?”

“Yes, one day, but I want to pick my own bride.”

Charlotte turned, found a chair near the pot-bellied stove, and pulled it along side Matthew’s. “What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can do. Disappoint my mother.”

“But Matthew, that means you’ll be sending that poor girl back!”

“So? She can find another husband somewhere else, can’t she?”

“Oh
, Matthew, your folks haven’t told you what happened, have they?”

He adjusted himself in the chair to better look at her. “What are you talking about?”

Charlotte’s face took on a fearful countenance that chilled him. “Both Elle and Summer, they came from the same place your Miss Smith did, New Orleans. Through the Ridgley Mail Order Bride Service.”

“So?”

“There are men, bad men who wait for the older girls to leave the orphanage. They kidnap them as soon as they are forced out, and put them to work in their …
brothels
.”

Matthew sat up so fast
his foot fell off the stool, knocking it over. He grimaced in pain, but didn’t right the stool. Instead he leaned toward Charlotte. “Go on …”

She
swallowed. “They … haven’t much chance other than to be a mail order bride. Abbey talks with Elle and Summer a lot, and she told me everything.” Charlotte looked into his eyes, and licked her lips. “A couple of weeks ago, the day of Elle and Spencer’s wedding, a man impersonating a Marshall came to town and took Elle and … myself … and … was taking us somewhere to …” she looked to the floor,  “… sell us.”

Matthew sprang to his feet-or foot- in this case.
“What?!”

“It’s true, just ask Spencer!”

Matthew fell back into his chair, his jaw slack. He ran a hand through his hair and shoved his spectacles up his nose. “Were you hurt? Charlotte, tell me! Were you hurt?”

She sat back. The look on his face was one of acute …
ah … good grief! She didn’t know what his look was! She’d never seen it before and couldn’t put a name to it.

“Charlotte, honey,” he said as he gripped her upper arms. “Did … he …
hurt,
you?”

“N… no…” She was shaking now, but didn’t know why. Her stomach was doing crazy flips and the room was getting warmer by the second. Matthew’s face was so intense she thought she might faint!  And it was over
her.
Charlotte Davis! The woman men avoided like the plague itself. No man had ever acted like this around her as Matthew was doing now.

Charlotte’s
lower lip trembled as she realized what was going on. He was protective over her.
Very
protective.

Wait a minute! Di
d he just call her,
honey
?  Something in Charlotte’s belly pooled and warmed, and she feared she’s slide onto the floor.

Matthew realized how he held her, let g
o, and relaxed back in his chair. “Thank, God.” He sighed in relief. “I’m sorry, I sometimes get excited … about things.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “It’s all right. You should have seen Clayton and Spencer that day.”

“What happened to the scum that took you, and where did he come from, anyway?”

“Clayton and Spencer think he’s conn
ected to a man in New Orleans, one that takes the orphan girls. I guess he didn’t like the fact Elle got away. So, do you see why you can’t send Miss Smith back?”

  Matthew sighed
again and nodded.  Now what was he going to do? He thought to play matchmaker between Miss Smith and Tom Turner, but decided that might not be such a good idea either.  What if they didn’t like each other, and how was that to work when
he
was supposed to be courting her?  Telling his mother to stay out of his love life, and sending the girl back was his only option.  But how could he, knowing what waited for her in New Orleans?  She’d have a much better chance for a good life, here in Nowhere.  The question was, with whom? 

“And the man who took you?” he asked, his anger rising once again. Maybe getting the chance to punch the man in the nose a hundred times would make him feel better about the ordeal.

She looked at him and took a deep breath. “He’s dead.”

Matthew’s eyes widened.

“Deputy Turner shot him.”

Matthew let loose a long, low, whistle. “I
have
been away too long.”

“Yes,” she agreed, and
looked him directly in the eye. “You have.”

* * *

“I can hardly believe it!” Rose exclaimed and sat on the bed.  They wer
e in Summer’s bedroom, looking at the Riley women’s wedding dresses, as Elle told her the story of when she left New Orleans. “You
shot
him?”

“Well, yes and no,” Elle explained. “Jethro was trying to do it, I … assisted.”

Rose looked to Summer who mouthed,
she shot him,
before picking up her dress to put it away.

“Mrs. Ridgley never told me how Jethro got hurt, and I didn’t get the chance to ask.  When I met him his arm was in a sling. He took me to the train station, but followed me
at a distance instead of walking me there.”

“Really?” Summer asked. “And you weren’t accosted by any of Mr. Slade’s men?”

“Mr. Slade?” Rose asked. “Who is he? Is he the reason Mrs. Ridgley had me …”

Summer opened a trunk. “You don’t want to know.  Nor need to
, now that you’re here. Tell us about Matthew Quinn!  We’ve not met him yet.”

“Wait a minute,” Elle chimed in. “What did Mrs. Ridgley have you do?”

Rose could feel herself blush. “She had me pretend I was with child.”

“What?” Elle laughed.

Rose nodded. “I stuffed my petticoats under my dress.”

“Oh my,”
Summer added, her face almost as red as Rose’s.

“You want to hear about Matthew Quinn
?” Rose sputtered. She really didn’t want to elaborate on the whole, “pregnant with petticoats” story. “After I tell you, I want to hear more about your wild adventures!”

“Wild
, yes, adventures … I guess we can call them that, now.” Elle told her. “But at the time, they were frightening.”

“Oh,” Rose said as she took in their faces. “I’m sorry. For someone like me, it all sounds so exciting and romantic, but … for you …”

“Not so much,” Summer finished for her. “Now, about Matthew?”

Rose picked at
the lace on Elle’s wedding dress as she admired it. “He’s … okay.”

“Okay?” Elle said and sat n
ext to her. “Is that it? That’s all you have to say about the man you’re going to marry?”

Rose shrugged. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“Yet,” Summer added as she put her dress into the trunk.

“I suppose I’ll find out more this afternoon, when Mr. Riley takes me into town.”

“Call him Clayton,” Summer corrected. “Elle and I are going to town too.  We both need a few things for the dresses we’re making for the dance.”

“What dance?” Rose asked.

“The Valentine’s dance.  It’s something they hold every year.” Elle explained. “We’ve been working on our dresses for almost a week.”

“Dresses, I’m not sure I want to talk any more about dresses.” Rose commented.

“Didn’t you like ours?” Summer asked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,”
Rose told her. “Your wedding dresses are beautiful! It’s just that, Mrs. Riley and Mrs. Quinn …”

“Say no more,” Elle told her as she held up a hand. “I know just what they did …
they took over, and started planning everything having to do with your wedding for you?”

“Yes!” Rose said breathless. “I thought they’d never stop!”

Summer laughed, before she lowered her voice. “We love our mother in-law, but when it comes to weddings, she wants to be able to plan them all!”

“Oh, mine was exhausting!” Elle added.

“Mine may never happen,” said Rose.

“What?” asked
Summer. “What do you mean?”

Rose took a deep breath. “To tell you the truth, I don’t’ think Mr. Quinn wants to marry me.”

“Nonsense,” Elle began. “Why would he send away for a mail order bride if he didn’t want to get married?”

“Because he didn’t send away for one.”

  “Oh!” Summer’s hands flew to her mouth. “No, don’t tell me …”

“His mother did,” Rose confirmed.

Elle rolled her eyes. “I wonder if Leona had anything to do with it?”

“Leona? Mrs. Riley you mean?” asked Rose.

Summer and Elle both nodded.

“I’d say,” Rose said
, as she began to nod with them. “Most definitely, yes.”

“Rose, I’m sorry it happened this
way,” Summer consoled. “But it all worked out for Elle and me. I’m sure it will work out for you and Matthew too.”

“I don’t’ know, he sounded mighty angry when I showed up
at the mercantile. Deputy Turner was more civil to me than Matthew Quinn.”

Elle smiled. “You met Tom Turner?”

“Yes, he … he’s nice.”

Elle’s smile broadened. “Maybe all Mr. Quinn needs is a little prompting.  What if he thought Tom Turner was getting sweet on you? Wouldn’t that make him jealous?”

“Elle, don’t think like that,” Summer scolded. “Let things between Rose and Matthew work themselves out natural-like.”

“If things work out
natural-like
, I don’t think I’ll be married at all,” said Rose. She stared at the floor. “He did have nice eyes…”

“Spencer told me Ma
tthew Quinn wears spectacles,” stated Elle.

Rose looked at her. “Mr. Turner doesn’t.”

Summer and Elle exchanged a quick look. “Maybe we ought to drop in on your visit this afternoon,” Summer suggested.

“Yes, just to make sure … you’re properly chaperoned,” added Elle.

Rose looked at them both. “Mr. Quinn already arranged for a chaperone.”

“Who?” Elle asked
.

“Charlotte Davis.”

“Charlotte Davis!” the girls cried together.

“What is it with this Charlotte Davis?  Why doesn’t any one like her?”

“Oh, Rose,” Summer began. “The stories we could tell.”

“Now we
have
to come this afternoon!” Elle said.

Rose looked up to the ceiling, and blew a curl out of her face. She didn’t have the heart to tell them Tom Turner would be there too. Hopefully, she’d be able to concentrate on getting to know her future husband better.  But with Tom Tuner in the room, it might prove harder than she thought.

Four

The Quinn’s parlor was small, but cozy.  Rose and Charlotte utilized the love seat, Matthew and Tom Turner each in a chair opposite them, a small table between the four. Mrs. Quinn brought in a tea service and set it on the table. “You all have a nice visit. I’ll be upfront minding the store and waiting for Mr. Quinn to get home.

“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Rose said politely. 

“He’s looking forward to welcoming you to the family,” Mrs. Quinn replied with a huge smile. “I’ll send him back just as soon as he arrives.” She glanced between Rose and Matthew, eyes bright, and left the parlor.

Rose fe
lt Charlotte stiffen, and wondered why.  She was a pretty girl with chestnut hair and big, hazel eyes. Why she wasn’t married Rose had no idea, other than the obvious. But so far, Rose didn’t see the haughty girl people also described as a horrible gossip.  She sat quietly and stared at her gloved hands, as if she were afraid to make eye contact with any of them. She’d borrowed a dress from Summer, a pretty pink calico with a lace trimmed collar. She hoped he liked it. Matthew that is, yes … of course Matthew.

Rose cleared her throat. “Has your fath
er been away?” she asked him.

He’d been sitting, staring at the teapot, and jolted upright. “Oh, ah … no. Just to my aunt’s farm. She makes things, you see, and father goes to her p
lace every few months to collect orders, and then brings them to the mercantile so people can pick them up.”

“
What does she make?” Rose asked, curious.

He picked up the teapot and began to pour.  “Different things, dresses, quilts,
hats. She’s an incredible seamstress. None of us knows why she doesn’t move into town and set up shop.”

“Is she alone?” asked Tom.

“No,” Matthew answered. “I have three cousins.  They take care of her and the farm, but there’s no reason why they couldn’t run the farm and
let Aunt Mary move to town.  My cousins take care of all the work on the place.”

“I remember your cousins,” Charlotte said softly. “I’ve
not seen them in ages.  I don’t blame your aunt for not moving, those are her sons after all, and until they marry, don’t count on it happening.”

Ma
tthew shrugged. “I see your point, but have no idea why she stays either. My cousins always were an unruly lot. Probably why none of them are married! But enough of Aunt Mary, Tell us about your self, Rose. If
we’re
to be married, I want to know all about you.” He smiled and handed her a cup, then fixed another for Charlotte.

Rose took a deep breath. “Where do I begin?”

Matthew looked up from his work. “Why don’t you tell us about your trip? Charlotte tells me … well, she informed me life in New Orleans could be difficult. Did you … get out of the city without incident?”

Her face paled. She swallowed and looked at each in turn. “It’s all very silly
, actually.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t inquire about your trip yesterday,” Matthew told her.
“My
bucket
ordeal had me pre-occupied.”

She smiled, “I understan
d. Did the doctor come look at it?”

“He didn’t tell me anything I don’t already know. It’s twisted. Now, back to you.”

She took a sip of her tea, and set her cup down. “If you must know, I gave birth to a bundle of petticoats somewhere between New Orleans and the third stage stop.”

Matthew
almost dropped his teacup. “I beg your pardon?”

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide,
as she took on a bemused look.

Tom
, on the other hand, leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but I can’t wait to hear this.”

She smiled. “Now that I look
back, it is funny. At the time, I was worried, but only for a moment, and made it out unharmed.”

“Then it’s all true?” Charlotte asked. “What Summer and Elle have told my sister?”

  Rose nodded. “Men who look for women to put to work as …”

“You don’t need to say it,” Matthew cut in.

“What?” asked Tom, “that these are the same men Sheriff Riley’s wife had to deal with?” He was sitting straight as a board now, his face set like stone, his eyes bordering on outright fury.

Rose felt something deep within her ignite, like a tiny flame. “I … I do
n’t know. Mrs. Ridgley, the owner of the mail order bride service, had me stuff petticoats under my dress so I would look like …”

“You were
pregnant
?” Matthew asked in shock. He quickly dumped two teaspoons of sugar into his tea.

Rose looked to the floor. “I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you, but it worked. No one looked twice at me, and now here I am.” She raised her eyes to his and met them head-on. I apologize if the circumstances around
my departing New Orleans have shocked you. Perhaps I should have kept them to myself.”

“No ma’am, I’m glad you told us,”
Tom said. “We’ve been looking for more clues as to what happened a couple of weeks back.”

Rose looked from one face to the other. “Oh, that. Summer and Elle told me …” Her eyes widened and slowly gravitated back to the deputy. “I … I understand you had to shoot …”

“Enough!” Matthew said as he held up both hands. “Let’s start over, and talk about something more pleasant, shall we?”

Rose, Charlotte and Tom looked at each other, and sipped their tea at the same time.

Matthew took a sip of his own to calm himself, before setting his cup down once more. “Why don’t I start?  I’ll ask questions, you answer.”

Rose set down her
own cup. “All right. What would you like to know?”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Can you read?”

She started at the question, but had to remember where she was, and where she’d come from.  Her reading was decent, her father taught her when she was still quite young. “Yes,” was all she offered, she didn’t like to talk about her parents or how they died. As soon as that subject was opened, they would want to know the details.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“None, and if I had, I’m sure I could never have left them behind in New Orleans. You?”

He shook his head.

Tom and Charlotte watched them go back and forth, and leaned in during the pause, waiting for one of them to speak again.

Rose glanced about the parlor. “What did you study?”

Matthew pus
hed his spectacles up. “Study?”

“At school. Your mother told me you were gone for a long time.”

“Oh,” he said and looked at Charlotte. “Yes, I was. Four years.”

Rose watched
him.  He wasn’t looking at
her
like that.
Hmmm
… maybe she should think about Elle’s suggestion, and pay attention to Tom Turner for a while to see what her “intended” would do.

“Do you like being a deputy, Mr. Turner?” she tossed out,
and then adjusted her position on the love seat, to add to the effect.

  His eyes darted between her and Matthew. “Ah, I like it fine, Miss Smith,” he said slowly.

Charlotte’s face, meanwhile, had softened as she looked at Matthew much the same way he was looking at her.  Was she showing her true colors, and vying for his attention like the Riley women said she would?

“Do you like being a
mail order bride?” Tom drawled.

She stared at him, her mouth half-open to speak, but she didn’t dare say the word that rushed to the tip of her tongue.
No!
She smiled instead and picked up her cup. “This is all so very new, I don’t know what to think.” Which was true enough, and at this point, she really
didn’t
know what to think. Matthew was looking at Charlotte like she could do no wrong, but with a sadness she didn’t understand.  What was going on?

“Where were you born?
” Tom asked.

She pulled her gaze from Charlotte and Matthew and gave him her full attention. “Philadelphia.”

“Me, I was born and raised in Clear Creek. I imagine I’ll raise a family, grow old, and die there too.”

“Clear Creek? Where is that?”

“Couple hundred miles south of here, nice place. You outta see it sometime.”

Right now, Rose wanted to see Matthew look at her, but he was staring at the teapot again, his brow furrowed in … what? What was he thinking? Charlotte too, had turned away, and gazed at the door which led to the storefront. 

Rose sighed. This tea was about as productive as
a room full of turnips trying to out grow each other.  She thought today would be better, but Matthew was distracted, and not as interested in her as she hoped he’d be. There had to be something they could talk about! Then she remembered, “I hear there’s a Valentine’s dance.”

Matthew’s head snapped up, and he looked directly at Charlotte.

Rose’s shoulders slumped.  If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was more interested in Charlotte, than he was in her. But how could tha
t be when everyone told her she was such a difficult person to be around?

“Yes, it’s held every year,” Matthew said matter of fact. Finally, he looked at her. “I would be honored to escort you.”

A chill went up her spine, but not out of anticipation.  If not that, then what? Shouldn’t she be happy he said he’d be taking her to the dance? “Do … do you think we’ll be married by then?”

 
Tom sipped his tea with a loud,
slurp.

Everyone turned to him. He looked at them over the rim of his cup, his cheeks red, then set it down. “Ah, mi
nd if I have some more of that? I’m plumb out.”

Matthew picked up the pot, and poured.

Rose turned to Charlotte. “Who is escorting you to the dance?”

The pot hit the tab
le hard, causing Tom’s tea to slosh. Charlotte sat up a little straighter. “No one, I’m going … alone.”

Rose watched at Matthew’s jaw tightened.  What was he so upset about? She then studied him. He was looking at the tabletop, his lips pressed together in a firm line, his body rigid. 

“Miss Charlotte?” Tom asked.

She looked at him, and gave a tentative smile. “Yes?”

“If’n you like, I can escort you to the dance. You’re too pretty to go by yourself.”

She blushed at his compliment.

Matthew snapped a biscuit in two and plunged it into his tea. He then stuffed it into his mouth and chewed as he eyed the deputy. Was he
scowling?
Intrigued, Rose quickly looked to Charlotte, who was now staring at Deputy Turner with the same look she’d been giving Matthew.
Oh good grief!

Rose grabbed the teapot and poured herself a second cup.  When she set the pot down, no one had so much as
glanced her way as they sat frozen in place, staring at each other.  She sat back with her cup, and sipped slowly.  This was going nowhere, fast. She almost choked on her tea as she fought against a giggle. Nowhere. Fast. Name of the town …

“I …” Charlotte began.

Both men leaned forward, Matthew in mid-chew.

“I’d be honored t
o attend with you,” she told Tom.

Matthew quickly picked up his cup, and drained it.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to … step out.” He stood, favoring his injured ankle as he did, and limped to the back door.

“You need any
help, Mr. Quinn?” Tom asked.

“No, need some air, and the privy.”

Charlotte and Rose blushed, and turned their faces away at the announcement.

“You sure you’re
gonna be okay?” the deputy asked again.

“Fin
e! I’m fine!” he snapped, shoved his spectacles up his nose, and headed for the hallway. “I’ll be back momentarily.

  They watched him go, listened to the kitchen
’s back door open, and the subsequent
slam
that followed.

“Is it just me,” Tom
drawled. “Or does he seem upset?”

Rose and Charlotte l
ooked at each other.  “I don’t know him well enough yet to say,” said Rose.

He looked to Charlotte. She shrugged. “I’ve just realized I don’t know him at all…”

“But didn’t you grow up together?” Rose asked.

“Yes,” she said in a soft voice. “
But I guess I should have paid closer attention.”

* * *

Matthew stumbled
down the mercantile’s back steps to the privy.  He didn’t really need to use it, the thought alone made him shudder. He much preferred the water closet in his family’s living quarters. They were one of the few families in town that had one, but preference aside, he needed to get out of the parlor.  He’d begun to entertain visions of a shoot-out with Deputy Turner, and the thought drove him to the street in hopes the cold air would bring him to his senses.