The Mistaken Mail Order Bride (17 page)

“I see no harm in that,” Abe replied.
“Caleb,” he called out as he walked over to the boy.

Caleb stopped and turned toward Abe. Eric
couldn’t hear what Abe was telling him, but he gestured to the
horse and then pointed between him and Eric. Caleb glanced at Eric
and then Abe. Then he pointed to Eric.

Abe nodded and went over to Eric. “He wants
to ride with you.”

“Me?” Eric asked, not hiding his surprise.
He thought for sure, if given the choice, Caleb would feel more
comfortable riding with Abe since Abe had more in common with
him.

“Yes, you.”

Detecting the chuckle in Abe’s voice, he
shot him an amused look before he went to grab the saddle. When he
came over to them, he glanced at Caleb. “Are you sure you want to
ride with me?”

Caleb indicated he did.

Abe took the saddle from him and shook his
head in exasperation, though a slight smile betrayed his humor.
“You didn’t take my word for it? I don’t know whether I should be
offended or not.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Eric told
him.

Eric glanced at Caleb to make sure the boy
really wanted him. He’d been so sure Caleb would rather take his
first ride with Abe.

Abe put the saddle on the horse, and as he
passed Eric, he whispered, “Caleb likes having you for a father.
Don’t fight it.” Then he gave Eric a pat on the back and stepped
away from him. “The saddle’s secure. Go on and get up there. Then
we’ll get Caleb up.”

Eric put his foot in the stirrup and swung
his leg over the saddle. “One day,” he said, “you’ll do this
without even thinking about it, but it’ll take time to master the
move.” He held his hand out to Caleb. “Put your foot in the
stirrup, and I’ll help you up.”

Caleb reached out and took his hand. Eric
waited until his foot was in the stirrup before pulling him up.
Caleb’s foot slipped from the stirrup, so Eric put his free hand
under his arm and pulled him onto his lap.

“You alright?” he asked Caleb.

Caleb laughed. “That was fun.”

Surprised Caleb laughed, Eric asked, “You
liked almost falling?”

“I didn’t fall. You caught me,” Caleb
replied.

Well, when he looked at it like that, Caleb
was right. With a grin, he put his arm around Caleb’s stomach.
“I’ll always catch you,” he told him.

“If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s your
father,” Abe told Caleb.

Up to now, Eric hadn’t thought of Caleb as
his son, but he supposed when he married Caroline and agreed to
take care of Caleb, he did assume the role as his father. So Abe
was right. And if Caroline was right—if Caleb had a special gift
for being able to tell which people were good and which were
bad—then Caleb had given him a high compliment in wanting to ride
with him. Touched, Eric encouraged the horse forward, careful to
hold Caleb so he’d feel safe during the ride.

Chapter Fourteen

“I
ought to tell the judge you arrested me,” Ida said late that
afternoon when Eric unlocked her cell.

“Go ahead. He’s due back next month. Of
course,” he added as he opened the door for her, “if I catch you
spreading lies about anyone in the meantime, you’ll be here for a
week. I knew you gossiped, but I didn’t realize you went out of
your way to hurt people’s reputations.”

Ida opened her mouth, as if to argue with
him, but Mike came around Eric and took her by the arm. “The
Sheriff’s right. You’ve been doing this nonsense long enough. It’s
not good for anyone. From now on, if you can’t say anything nice,
you won’t say anything at all. Is that clear?”

Eric blinked. He couldn’t recall a time when
Mike had ever put his foot down with his wife before, and
apparently, Ida was just as shocked since she didn’t protest.

Mike looked at Eric. “I assure you, she’ll
stop. Come along, Ida. You won’t be leaving me with the children
alone all night ever again.”

Well, if Eric had to make Mike uncomfortable
for a night in order to get Ida to behave, then so be it. He closed
the cell door as Mike led Ida out of the jailhouse. With any luck,
in time, people would forget all Ida had said about Caroline.

He did some light paperwork and was just
about done when Lydia Richie came into the jailhouse. She slammed
the door, clasped her dark blue skirt in her hands, and marched
over to him.

“You have another complaint, Mrs. Richie?”
Eric asked.

Lydia nodded. “I want you to arrest my
husband.”

Of all the things she could complain about,
this was the last one he expected. Lydia had made complaints about
almost everything from Palmer’s chicken coming onto her property to
the Smiths’ two-year-old child who’d been having a temper tantrum
in the general store. Whatever inconvenienced Lydia, she made sure
he knew about it.

Knowing he was going to regret it, he asked,
“What is Carl doing?”

“He’s demanding I go to bed with him.”

He almost laughed at the absurdity of such a
thing. “You’re his wife. Being in bed with him is part of the
marital arrangement.”

“I don’t see why I should be forced to
suffer just because he wants to get a child to inherit that stupid
land he wants.”

Eric frowned. “Forced to suffer. Is he rough
with you in bed?”

“No, he’s not rough. He’s lousy. He thinks
he’s good at it, but he’s not. I don’t feel like staring up at the
ceiling and wondering when it’ll be over.”

Eric stared at her for a long moment, not
believing what he’d just heard. No man, regardless of whether he
really was a satisfactory lover or not, wanted his wife to claim he
lacked proper lovemaking skills. He, for one, would be horrified if
Caroline ever did such a thing.

“Look,” Lydia said, glaring at him, “you
either lock him up or you go out to my place and demand he stop
trying to touch me.”

“Mrs.
Richie,” he began, choosing to emphasize the Mrs. part of her
name, “I just put Mrs. Conner in jail for the night for spreading
falsehoods about someone. I don’t care whether you’re happy with
your husband’s efforts in bed or not. If I hear that you’re telling
anyone in this town what you just told me, I’ll be putting you in
jail.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would. Now keep private things
private.”

She gritted her teeth for a moment then let
out a low grunt. “I should have expected that response from you.
You’re a man, and you men all stick together. Every last one of you
thinks he’s great in bed, but only a few manage it correctly. Let’s
hope your wife thinks you’re one of them. As for me, I will not
spend one more dreadful night with the man my father forced me to
marry. And you better not try to make me. I don’t care if it’s my
duty or not. I won’t do it.” She paused then added, “Don’t you tell
him I’m in town, either. If he tries to talk to me, I just might
kill him.”

She spun on her heel and left, slamming the
door behind her.

Eric grimaced. Well, that went as well as
could be expected, given it was Lydia he was dealing with.

He put his paperwork away and then headed
home. Thank goodness Caroline was nothing like her. While Carl had
been known to give Abe grief, there were times when Eric couldn’t
help but feel sorry for him. Carl hadn’t wanted the marriage any
more than Lydia did, and it showed. The two had never been happy
together.

Whether Abe realized it or not, Carl had
done Abe a favor without meaning to. Yes, Carl’s motives weren’t
the best, but there was no doubt Phoebe and Abe made a good couple.
Eric couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen Abe happy, but he was
definitely happy with her. What a contrast to Carl and Lydia. Two
couples couldn’t be more different. And that just went to show when
someone did something for their selfish gain, the other person
could be blessed for it.

With nothing else to do, he locked up the
jail and went home. He had expected to help Caroline make supper,
but when he opened the door, he saw Lois helping Caroline make the
meal.

Caroline glanced over at him and smiled.
“Lois offered to teach me how to make fried chicken.”

Eric closed the door and put his hat on the
hook. “That’s awfully nice of you, Lois.”

“Nice has nothing to do with it,” Lois said.
“You know I had that old chicken to get rid of, and I can’t eat the
whole thing by myself. Caroline’s doing me a favor by taking it off
my hands.”

He noticed the way Lois had worded things
and thought it was so much like her. Lois was a rare person. No
doubt she heard the rumors Ida had been spreading and decided to
come over to help under the guise of asking Caroline to do her a
favor.

“I just hope it turns out well,” Caroline
said as she placed a plate of the chicken on the center of the
table. “Lois told me how to prepare it, but I did the actual work
on it.”

“I told you my hands aren’t as good as they
used to be,” Lois told her. “That’s yet another reason why you’re
helping me by cooking it.”

As sweet as it was for Lois to tell the fib
with the intent of making Caroline feel good about herself, Eric
couldn’t help but tease the old woman. “If memory serves, you made
a quilt the other day. Doesn’t holding a needle take its toll on
those hands?”

Lois met his gaze head on. “I’ll have you
know that’s why my hands aren’t doing so well today.”

He couldn’t be sure if that was the truth or
not, but either way, her heart was in the right place, something he
admired her for. “Alright. That excuse sounds as good as anything I
could have come up with.”

“Sheriff,” Lois said, “you save that
suspicious nature of yours for those who need it. I’m a poor, old
widow who happened to have a chicken. You can’t fault me for
wanting to eat it.”

“You make a good point,” he replied, his
lips curling up into a smile.

Recalling Caleb, he glanced
around the cabin and saw that he was sitting on the hardwood floor
writing the letter
A
on a small chalkboard.

“I thought I’d teach him how to read and
write,” Caroline spoke up. “Lois told me other children his age
have already started learning how to read and write, and I can
teach him how to do those things since I know how to do them.”

“Now you know how to make fried chicken and
potato salad,” Lois added. “The Sheriff likes my potato salad
recipe. My mother brought it with her when she left Germany.”

“It is a good recipe,” Eric admitted. “So
Lois had you make that, too?” he asked Caroline.

“You make it sound like I was forcing your
wife to do these things. I’ll have you know, she offered to do it.
Cutting up potatoes isn’t easy on the hands, you know,” Lois
protested, though he caught a slight smile which betrayed her
indignation.

“Lois has been very kind in teaching me how
to make tonight’s dinner,” Caroline intervened.

Eric smiled at Lois. “Well, we like having
you over.” He glanced at Caroline. “Is there anything I can do to
help?”

“Just sit and make yourself comfortable,”
Caroline said. “You’ve had a busy day.”

So had she. She was the one who made the
pancakes at Phoebe’s that morning. But by the excited expression on
her face, he gathered she was having a good time with Lois. After
the whole thing with Ida, it was nice Lois had stepped in to lend
her support.

He went over to Caleb, who
seemed to be concentrating on getting the letter
A
written properly. “I
remember when I learned how to write,” he told the boy as he sat
next to him. “It took me a couple years before anyone could read my
handwriting.” Caleb looked up at him, and, recalling their horse
ride, Eric grinned. “I thought learning to ride a horse was
easier.”

As he hoped, Caleb returned his smile before
returning his attention back to the slate.

Eric watched him, thinking
the boy was doing his best. He wasn’t haphazardly writing down the
letter
A
. He was
being meticulous about it. Eric had a hunch the boy was highly
intelligent. He was quiet and took time to think things through
before speaking, which might lead some to assume he wasn’t very
smart. But anyone who watched him could tell he was definitely
intelligent.

Would Caleb ever tell him or Caroline what
had happened to him? What caused him to end up on the streets by
himself?

Eric placed his hand on the boy’s back.
Caleb looked up at him, and Eric smiled at him. “You’re a smart
boy. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. With that head of
yours, you can accomplish anything you want.”

Caleb didn’t seem to know what to think of
Eric’s words, but that was just as well. He was still young. In the
future, though, he might remember back on this moment and believe
in himself when others would have him do otherwise.