The Substitute Bride (12 page)

“Were you and Rose friends?”

Rebecca nodded. “She was a sweet woman. Quiet. Thoughtful.”

The exact opposite of Elizabeth.

“I recall Rose saying they married in her home church about twelve miles west of here. Their search for a farm brought them to New Harmony.”

“Wonder why New Harmony?”

“The Martin place sat empty after Paul died. Reckon the price was right. And close enough for Rose’s parents to visit. Often.”

Something about Rebecca’s tone didn’t flatter Rose’s parents. But that wasn’t her priority. “Does Ted have family?”

“None of his people came to the funeral. Why not ask him?”

Elizabeth forced a laugh. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”

Rebecca stopped pedaling and snipped the thread. “What about you? You got any family?”

The question ended her speculation about Ted. She couldn’t lie, exactly…“Yes. My father lives in Chicago.”

“You must miss him.”

Elizabeth swallowed against the sudden knot in her throat, a result of her deceit. “Yes, I do.”

Rebecca lifted the skirt from the machine and held it and the bodice against Elizabeth. A dress. Something Elizabeth had taken for granted but now seemed a monumental achievement.

As Rebecca pinned the skirt to the bodice, she glanced at the clock. “Feel free to start supper. I’ll have to feed the baby soon.”

Perhaps Rebecca’s presence in the house renewed her energy or maybe she had finally figured out how to handle that black monster of a stove, but Elizabeth fried up a slab of pork with a minimum of difficulty, peeled potatoes, only nicking her finger once, and put on a pan of sauerkraut. The food bubbled away on the stove, filling the house with heady scents. For the first time, she felt optimistic about the meal.

Back in the bedroom, Rebecca still hunched over the sewing machine. She nodded toward a packet of buttons. “Found those in one of the sewing drawers. They’re perfect for this dress.”

Lovely mother-of-pearl buttons gleamed in the afternoon sun streaming in the window. Probably Rose had planned to put them on a dress. The thought dampened Elizabeth’s mood.

“How did you know how much material to buy?” Rebecca asked.

“Mrs. Sorenson told me.”

“The Sorensons are good-hearted. The best. Allow farmers to run up a bill till harvest. Poor Hubert can’t keep up with his accounts and his wife has no head for figures.”

“I love math.”

“Really! Well, God knows what He’s doing when He passes out our gifts.”

Elizabeth had never thought of her skill in math as a gift from God. How often had she ignored what God had done for her and instead focused on the disappointments?

Rebecca grinned. “I’d sooner eat grubs than face the Sorenson ledger.”

“I’d rather swallow earthworms than take shears to fabric.”

Giggling, Rebecca taught Elizabeth how to do a blind hemstitch, the topic of math forgotten.

For the second time Elizabeth had heard the Sorensons needed help with their books. Soon as she could, she’d talk to Mr. Sorenson about a job.

Once she’d mastered the hemstitch, Rebecca showed her how to attach the buttons to the bodice. “I’ll come back to make the other dress,” she promised.

Elizabeth didn’t know why Rebecca had done all this for her, but her new friend waved away her thanks, saying it was the Christian thing to do. Elizabeth didn’t know much about Christians, but one wore the name Rebecca Harper.

After much convincing, Rebecca had agreed to take the fabric in exchange for making two dresses. When Rebecca, Grace and Faith pulled out the lane, the pink twill stretched across Grace’s lap.

Elizabeth hoped Ted wouldn’t be angry with her for giving away the material.

“Smells good in here.” Ted scooted past Elizabeth as she stood at the stove. Apparently his wife had gotten over the run-in with the hens, by the refreshed, even happy look on her face. “Did I see some familiar fabric in the living room? In the shape of a dress?”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit. “Rebecca made a pattern, cut out a dress and seamed it up all in one afternoon. It fits perfectly.”

“Rebecca’s a generous woman.”

“She is. I don’t know how she managed to get away from her brood long enough to help, but she did.”

“Probably has to be fast with five children under seven.”

“I like her.”

“Figured you would. She helped me out with Henry and Anna more times than I can count.”

“Ted, I gave Rebecca the pink material in exchange for making two dresses.”

He touched her cheek, smiling into her troubled eyes. “I’m glad.”

“I thought you might be upset.”

“For being generous? Never.” His hand fell away. “Rebecca and Dan are struggling right now. Keep them in your prayers.”

“I will.”

“Are two dresses enough?”

“Yes.” She cocked her head at him, a saucy look in her eyes. “I’ve decided I like wearing pants.”

“Now that, dear wife, is very good news.” He pulled her close, inhaled the scent of soap with the faintest hint of roses. Sweet Elizabeth.

Face flushed, she pulled away. “We had a good visit.”

Ted put himself in her line of vision. “So what did you two talk about?”

“Nothing really. Just the usual lady talk.”

But the wariness in her eyes told Ted the topic had likely been about him. Or perhaps Rose. Had she pumped Rebecca for information about his past? If so, she’d been disappointed.

No one knew his secrets.

S
unday morning Pastor Sumner welcomed Elizabeth from the pulpit. The topic of his sermon wasn’t deceit, as she’d feared. He never mentioned she’d switched places with Ted’s mail-order bride and the lies that entailed. For that kindness Elizabeth paid close attention as he spoke on God’s love.

One verse in particular stuck in her mind.
Love is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs.

A love Elizabeth lacked.

Deep inside, she harbored a terrible anger toward her father. Papa only cared about gambling, putting his family at risk. Killing Mama. Not with a weapon, perhaps not even intentionally, but Elizabeth didn’t doubt for a moment that Papa had caused her mother’s death.

Her heart squeezed. Truth was she’d even been angry with Mama. For pretending all was well while their lives fell apart. For hiding in her bedroom rather than taking a stand with Papa. On the surface her family appeared typical, but Papa’s gambling whipped up wild waves of misery while underneath the surface, strong currents carried them further and further apart. All the while Mama never lost her smile. Papa never lost his bravado.

Until Mama’s failing health kept them home, Elizabeth had accompanied her mother to church. But most of Elizabeth’s attention centered on the latest fashions and liaisons of her peers, not on the sermon. Except for an occasional stab of fear that Papa would wind up in hell, Elizabeth had given little thought to pleasing God.

But now, during the altar call, a deep longing for such a love brought a lump to Elizabeth’s throat. A lump formed by the memories of withholding affection from her mother.

She wouldn’t find this Biblical love with Ted. Not when keeping up her end of the bargain they called their marriage was all that mattered.

But maybe here in this church, in the Bible Ted shared with her in the pew and at home, she’d find the answer for the empty ache she carried and the anger devouring her peace.

One final song and the service ended, leaving Elizabeth with an odd sense of loss. But she didn’t have time to examine her feelings. Parishioners flooded the aisles, greeting her like a long-lost friend instead of a newcomer.

Outside the wind had come up, blowing the women’s skirts and lifting Anna’s bangs off her forehead. Spying Grace Harper across the way, Anna took off at a run.

“Did you enjoy the service?” Ted asked.

“Yes, very much.”

The pleased expression on his face revealed his desire for a wife with strong faith instead of a backslider like her. He leaned close. “Henry only called out twice during the sermon. Anna created a racket kicking the back of the pew only once. A good service all in all.” He winked. “If we swapped the kitchen chairs for pews, maybe Anna would behave better.”

Ted’s attempt at humor told Elizabeth he didn’t blame her for Anna’s attitude. But he’d blame her for keeping Robby’s
existence from him. If only she had the courage to inform him about her brother. She would, as soon as she earned money for their tickets. This morning, she’d look for an opportunity to speak to Mr. Sorenson about a job.

Rebecca caught up to them with Faith draped over her arm like a rag doll. “Have you finished hemming your dress?”

“Not yet, but when I do, I’ll wear it to church.”

Before Elizabeth could ask if Rebecca had found time to make her own dress, the womenfolk of the church surrounded them.

Lydia Sumner and Lucille Sorenson greeted her warmly while Elizabeth scrambled to keep the names straight of the women she’d met inside. Gertrude Wyatt—buxom with flawless skin; Ruth Johnson—tall, willowy, wearing jet bead earbobs; Carolyn Radcliff—petite with sun-streaked hair.

“Why, I’d heard Ted got himself a wife,” Ruth Johnson said, giving her wide-brimmed, bow-bedecked hat an adjustment, setting her earbobs in motion.

“Is that a new hat?”

Ruth beamed. “It arrived yesterday from the Montgomery Ward Catalog.”

“It’s lovely,” Elizabeth said. “Perfect for the shape of your face.”

“Ted’s new wife’s a dear,” Lucille Sorenson interrupted. “Bought all her niceties from me.” She flashed a look at Ruth. “Not like some folks who feel the need to order from the catalog.”

Mrs. Radcliff frowned. “You really should stop broadcasting people’s shopping lists, Lucille.”

A blush dotted the proprietor’s cheeks. “It’s good for business.”

“The Sorenson Mercantile stocks everything a farm wife could want,” Elizabeth said, trying to ease the sudden tension.

Ted shot her an amused glance; he then leaned close and
murmured in her ear, “The hens are clucking their approval. Appears they’ve welcomed you into the coop.”

Elizabeth coughed to cover a burst of laughter. Someone patted her on the back.

“Mrs. Logan, are you from these parts?” Gertrude said.

“I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago!” Gertrude clasped her hands. “Such a grand city. Will’s cousin, Mary Beth, lives there. She’s married to a slaughterhouse man name of O’Sullivan. Wouldn’t it be something if the two of you knew each other?”

“O’Sullivan? Uh…”

“Oh, you could hardly miss noticing Mary Beth.” Gertrude waved a palm. “Red hair, freckles, a pretty girl, but she’s let herself go since the babies started arriving.”

Carolyn patted her friend’s arm. “Chicago’s a big place, Gertie. You can’t expect Elizabeth to remember Will’s cousin even if she’s the size of Orville’s prize Angus.”

Gertrude’s face fell like an underdone cake. Martha’s only cooking disaster, according to her nanny. “I thought it would’ve been lovely if they’d met.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I bumped into a woman once with more freckles than a hive has bees, but the only words we shared were an apology.”

“That’s gotta be her!” Gertrude exclaimed. “Imagine that. Why, we’re practically family.”

Across the way a knot of young ladies giggled. A few days ago, Elizabeth would’ve fit that group. Now she mingled with married women. Odd how she didn’t fit anywhere.

“Where did you and Ted meet?” Ruth took up the slack. “Far as I know he hasn’t left town.”

Ted shifted the weight of his sleeping son and widened his stance, obviously uncomfortable with the question, but Elizabeth saw no point in hiding the truth. “At the depot.”

“Well, of course, but when was the
first
time you met?”

“That was the first time.”

Lydia Sumner beamed. “Isn’t that romantic? She and Ted married in our parlor the day she arrived.”

“You’re saying you never laid eyes on Ted before that day?” Carolyn Radcliff’s eyes went wide with shock.

“Elizabeth is what I’ve heard called a mail-order bride,” Lydia Sumner explained.

Gertrude gaped. “Well, I do declare. I’m speechless!”

“Well, however you two met, congratulations, Elizabeth. You’ve accomplished something the single women of New Harmony hadn’t been able to do,” Rebecca said with a wink.

Ruth Johnson frowned. “Why would you marry a stranger?”

“Ted never seemed like a stranger, not from the minute we met. Why, his greeting nearly swept me off my feet.” True enough. Ted’s talk about milking cows and strangling chickens had all but made her swoon.

Ruth Johnson waved a finger Ted’s way. “As the saying goes—still waters run deep.”

Ted coughed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Rebecca laid a palm over her baby’s face and took a step back. “I hope you two aren’t coming down with something.”

“Your dress is lovely, Mrs. Logan,” Ruth said. “A collarless dress must be new.”

“Ah, quite new.”

A puzzled look came over Lydia Sumner’s face. “I distinctly remember that dress having a collar.”

“I’ll have to remove the collars from my dresses.” Ruth fingered the lapel on the front of her frock. “I can’t keep up with fashion.”

A dark-haired woman, her bonnet covering her face, walked past, herding four children in front of her, glancing neither right nor left.

“I’ll be right back.” Lydia Sumner hustled after her.

Elizabeth watched the pastor’s wife put an arm around the woman. The two put their heads together. “Who is that?”

Gertrude frowned. “Lois Lessman. Most likely her husband Joe’s over at the saloon. His gambling’s going to put his family in the poorhouse.”

“I hate gambling,” Elizabeth whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Can’t you close down the saloon?”

All eyes filled with speculation and darted to Elizabeth.

Mumbling something about finding Anna, Ted trudged toward the group of girls playing on the lawn.

Elizabeth’s heart thudded in her chest. She’d revealed too much, raising the ladies’ suspicions. How would they feel—worse, how would a religious man like Ted feel, if he discovered her father was a gambler?

“It’s a dirty shame. Lois takes in ironing and laundry, cleans for the Moore brothers. Does everything she can to see to it that her boys don’t go to bed hungry.”

The attention of the group turned back to the Lessman family and off her, easing the tension between Elizabeth’s shoulder blades. Perhaps here in this town, she could find a way to ensure gambling split no family apart.

“So how do you like New Harmony, Elizabeth?” Gertrude asked as Lydia Sumner returned to the circle.

“This is only my first trip to town since our wedding.”

“It’s a good place to live.” Rebecca’s gaze dropped to the ground. “Just hope we can stay.”

Lydia Sumner slipped an arm around Rebecca. The pastor’s wife must wear herself out ministering to the women of the congregation. “Are you thinking of moving?”

“We don’t want to, but if this drought doesn’t end, the decision may be out of our hands.”

Her new friend’s struggles pinched at Elizabeth’s mood.

“Let’s not borrow trouble,” Lydia advised. “Remember God’s in control and we’ve got His ear.”

“Well, it’s April. We normally have had lots of rain by now,” Rebecca said softly.

The group grew quiet. Elizabeth supposed everyone had a stake in the weather. If the farmers did poorly, the whole town suffered. “Perhaps we should all wash our windows. That always brought rain in Chicago,” Elizabeth said brightly.

Five troubled faces turned to her then eased into smiles.

“Yes, and we could keep our laundry on the line,” Gertrude declared with a chuckle.

“Or plan a picnic,” Carolyn offered.

Lydia patted Elizabeth’s arm. “You’re good for us, my dear.”

“In the meantime,” Elizabeth said, “we can work on getting the streets ready for all that rain. From what Ted told me they’ll turn into a muddy river.”

“What a good idea! What do you suggest?”

Mrs. Radcliff waved a hand at a group of boys tumbling in the yard. “Before we solve all the problems of New Harmony, our youngsters are getting restless.”

The ladies broke up, moving off to gather their children.

Gertrude turned to Elizabeth. “I can’t wait to hear more about your life in Chicago. I’ve never been to a big city.”

A rocklike weight settled to the bottom of Elizabeth’s stomach. What if these women really knew her? Uncovered her secrets? They wouldn’t think much of her then. Suddenly the privacy of the farm sounded good.

Elizabeth hustled to the wagon. Across the way, Mr. Sorenson stood talking. Asking him about keeping his books would have to wait until the next time she came to town.

Ted helped her onto the seat, handed the still-sleeping Henry into her arms, then swung Anna aboard and scrambled up
beside her. His humor-filled gaze met hers over Anna’s head. “I’ll be the laughingstock once the men hear I nearly made you swoon at the depot.”

Elizabeth squirmed. “Well, at least the men won’t be removing their collars merely because I scorched mine,” she said, eliciting a chuckle from Ted.

Her heart skipped a beat. And the women won’t be quizzing you about your life in Chicago the next time you meet.

Elizabeth stood on a chair in the kitchen, trying not to fidget, while Ted held a yardstick against the skirt of her new dress and pinned the fabric for a hem. To keep from giving in to a crazy urge to run her fingers through the golden hair on his bowed head, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her.

Perhaps Ted prayed as he pinned. The man talked to God at every opportunity.

She couldn’t shake the feelings of remorse the pastor’s sermon had surfaced that morning. She’d tried to lay all her regret for hurting Mama at Papa’s feet.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Ted said. “Something wrong?”

Everything.
“Nothing.”

“You sound like something’s bothering you.”

She sighed. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“Haven’t we all.” He rose to his feet and dropped the packet of pins on the table. “I hope I didn’t make a mess of this. I measured every few inches and it looks straight, but—”

One look at her face and he lifted her off the chair. “You’re not talking about housekeeping, are you?”

“No.” Tears filled her eyes.

He tilted her face up to his. His tender expression tore at her. “We all have regrets, Elizabeth.” He motioned toward the yardstick. “God doesn’t love us according to a measure of our goodness. Or withhold His love by calculating the number of
our sins. Whatever we’ve done, He’ll forgive us. All we have to do is ask.” He squeezed her hand. “Have you asked Him?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Countless times she’d asked God for His forgiveness.

“Then He has. Psalm 103:12 says, ‘As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.’”

If only she could share Ted’s confidence, his strong faith. But she didn’t feel forgiven.

“Trust God, Elizabeth. He’ll never let you down.”

Perhaps she could trust God. But could she trust Ted? What would he do when he learned she had a brother and intended for Robby to live here? Would he forgive her for keeping the truth from him the way he promised God would?

Ted took her hand in his, his firm grip warm, soothing. “You’re my wife. I don’t want to let you down, either.” His callused thumb slid over the top of her hand.

She fought the comfort of his touch. “I’m a housekeeper, not a wife, with two children to care for and every imaginable chore to do.”