A Keeper For Christmas (Spinster Mail-Order Brides Book 12) Page 3

  Miss Mckinley had held Merrilee’s hand between both of her own as she said goodbye. “I always pray for a special verse to give each of my brides. You, my dear, need to remember Joshua 1:9--Fear not, nor be dismayed, be strong and of good courage.” She’d squeezed Merrilee’s hand gently. “You worry too much. Say the words when dread tries to take hold of you.”

  Fearing the life she’d find after leaving the train, she muttered the words below her breath. “Be strong and of good courage.”

  The older man across from her also rose and smiled kindly as he heard her muttered words. “An excellent verse when facing anything new.” With a flourish of his hand, the man indicated for Merrilee to precede him in the aisle.

  She nodded but didn’t return his comment. Her mother’s frightening stories about strangers strangled her tongue. She did manage a shy smile, though.

  What exactly does good courage look like? Should I smile and act as if nothing in this situation bothers me?

  The conductor helped Merrilee step down onto the small step stool and then onto the platform. Uncertain what to do, she searched the crowd for a glimpse of Myra Smithson, now Myra Sittig. Hopefully, that woman would meet the train. After all, she was responsible for marrying off Carl.

  Snowflakes melted against her spectacles as she gazed around her. The water made it hard to see well, and Merrilee moved out of the way of other passengers by heading to a bench in the middle of the platform.

  Setting down her carpetbag, she sat beside it and fished the hanky from her reticule. Pulling her glasses from her face, she wiped at them with the dirty linen. Her bent head made the hand on her shoulder even more of a shock.

  She jumped and sent the spectacles flying. With a quick intake of air, she yelled, “Please, don’t step on them.”

  Keeping her head bent, she moved off of the bench and stretched her arms out in front of her as her hands blindly groped the ground. On her knees, Merrilee blurrily made out a set of legs clothed in dark wool pants. The pants were tucked into black Stovepipe boots. Squinting up at the owner of the legs, she saw a blurry face and dark hair. Also, strangely, the figure held one arm behind his back.

  She heard the man inhale in surprise. Then he lifted his booted foot and stomped the platform’s wooden floor. “Crunch. Wonder if that was them.” Then he released a childish laugh. Oh dear, this was her idiot fiancé!

  “Carl! Give her those glasses. I see you hiding them behind your back.” Was that Myra? Merrilee didn’t remember the woman’s voice so she couldn’t be sure.

  Again the giggle. A hand reached down to help her up while its mate held her glasses. Standing now, she fixed them onto her face and studied Carl Sittig.

  He had black hair. That seemed strange to her, as she believed all Germans had blonde hair. Crystal blue eyes stared back. Warmth and humor filled them, not at all what she would expect in a person who was simple.

  His face had high cheekbones and chiseled lips. Something about those lips drew and held her eyes. Mesmerized she stared until he gave his ridiculous giggle. The sound reminded her that this was no ordinary husband-to-be.

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  Gorgeous eyes! Merrilee squinted as she looked up at him. Even so, he could see her round, deep blue eyes. They were almost navy blue. A face blessed with a perfect complexion and framed by honey-blonde hair. She appeared both innocent and alluring to him.

  Why couldn’t she be homely and offensive? Ignoring his rights as a husband just got a lot harder.

  To recover from his reaction to her, he stomped as if crushing the glasses. The act was childish—just what he wanted at that moment.

  “Crunch. Wonder if that was them.” Next, he gave that hideous laugh that had become a part of his act.

  Myra, always protecting someone, chastised him so he extended a hand to help his angel to her feet. As his sister-in-law had ordered him to do it, he could return the glasses without breaking character. He had to convince Merrilee Rollins that she was marrying an idiot.

  For long moments, she stared at him. He felt warm as her lovely eyes focused on his lips. Something unusual and very sensual seemed to pass between them. At least it was unusual for him.

  A thought made him twist his mouth in a frown. Was this woman not the innocent maiden that he expected?

  Knowing he needed to take control of the situation before she saw the real man behind his act, Carl did the silliest thing he could think of at the moment. He broke into song, using the tune to Row, Row, Row Your Boat.

  Merrily, Merrily, Merrily Merrilee.

  Merrilee Rollins is here.

  He ended with the hideous giggle and then poked the shocked woman in the arm. “Betcha never heard that song before.” He pitched his voice higher than usual, hoping it added to the effect he was creating.

  The woman’s already white face paled. She sighed deeply but didn’t turn away. Instead, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

  Forcing a smile, she drawled in an accent very like Myra’s. “Thank you for making a song to welcome me. That was very thoughtful, Carl.”

  Dropping his hand casually, she pivoted her body to look at Myra. Behind Merrilee’s back, Carl frowned. Beautiful and gracious! Why did he have all the bad luck! He’d be marrying the perfect woman. Rats!

  Myra was not as gracious to him. Scowling at him over Merrilee’s shoulder, his sister-in-law rubbed her huge stomach and snapped, “Carl, can’t you even greet her properly? I am sorry, Merrilee. He knows better. God rest his dear mother’s soul, I know she taught him the same manners as her other boys.”

  While Fred laughed at the conversation, Holder looked from Carl to his obviously uncomfortable wife and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Ignore him. We can do proper introductions later. I want to get you off your feet and back into the wagon.”

  Carl looked back to his bride. She’d jutted her chin out. Evidently, she was preparing herself to go through with something she didn’t want to do, he hoped. Good! Then she wouldn’t act as if she wanted a real marriage with him. That might help him ignore how tempting she was.

  He gazed at her back as she stood stiffly in front of Myra. Her hourglass shape made him wonder how she would look without a corset. Would she--?

  “Get a hold of yourself!” Holder hissed the words, bringing Carl out of his daydream about Merrilee. Thank goodness. He didn’t need to let his mind wander in that direction. It could eventually cost him his life!

  Nodding to his brother, Carl hung his head like an ashamed child. He glimpsed Berta smile up at him and leaned down to pick up the seven-year-old. Hoping to show he’d lost interest in Merrilee, Carl blew a raspberry into the little girl’s neck, bringing a peel of giggles from her.

  “Me! Me!” Dora’s shrill cry drew his eyes to her. She pulled at Fred’s hand, trying to escape him. Rather than letting her go, Fred lifted her and blew a raspberry into the folds of the toddler’s neck. She giggled, starting her twin giggling too as if Darlene had also been tickled. It was odd how one would react to what the other experienced.

  Holder had Merrilee’s carpetbag in one hand with his other hand under Myra’s elbow. He led her off the platform. Carl badly wanted to present his arm to his fiancée. He wanted her to touch him as well as knowing it was what a gentleman would do.

  It wasn’t what a poorly behaved boy would do, though. He ignored the woman and hurried after Holder, jostling Berta and making chugging sounds as if he was a train. Merrilee would just have to follow along without any help.

  Fighting to forget his manners, Carl set Berta into the back of the wagon bed and climbed in as well. Myra already sat on the seat. Holder waited by the wagon-turned-sleigh to help Merrilee onto the seat.

  Carl caught Merrilee’s wounded glance in his direction. She gave Holder a tight smile as she accepted his arm to climb onto the seat. Now, why in the world had she flashed that hurt expression at him? Did that mean she didn’t believe his act? Maybe she hadn’t been told that he wouldn’t b
ehave like a grown man.

  In a silly voice, he loudly sang the first verse of Jingle Bells. Johanna and Berta sang along while the twins laughed.

  Myra swiveled her bulk awkwardly on the bench and snapped at him. “Really, Carl! It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you sing a more wholesome song since it is a holy day?”

  Even-tempered Myra certainly was out of temper today. Carl wondered at the cause. Must be the baby would come soon. He remembered Lydia, Holder’s first wife, being grumpy right before each of the girls was birthed.

  With that in mind, Carl nodded his dark head to Myra. Smiling at his nieces, he softly crooned Away in the Manger while the girls smiled and listened. A sleepy Darlene leaned her head against him. Wrapping an arm around her, he cuddled her close.

  Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to catch Merrilee smirking. Making eye contact with him, she arched one brow in what appeared to be a question. What was she asking? Had he given himself away?

  Chapter 4

  They traveled only a short distance to the edge of the town. Really, Merrilee thought it should be called a village or even a settlement. After living in Charleston all of her life, Idyll Wood seemed incredibly small.

  Holder halted the sleigh in front of a wood-framed church with a large evergreen wreath decorating the single door into the building. Used to large double doors on her church at home, the single door emphasized how rustic her life was about to become.

  Be strong and of good courage!

  She hadn’t realized how persnickety she was until this moment. If she were to survive and thrive in Wisconsin, Merrilee knew she had to alter her attitude quickly. She could do it. Especially for the darkly handsome man who would be her husband.

  What was wrong with her? She was a shy spinster, not a coquette. Yet, she was sure she’d stared at Carl with longing on her face. Blushing, she remembered the moment they’d met and felt a warmth building in her middle.

  He’d returned her warm gaze with a definite interest in his eyes. Something was wrong with the situation. He had moments when he didn’t appear either childish or simple. Carl had been all man as they’d stared at each other. His touch as he’d helped her up sent delightful shivers through her. He’d even stroked her arm with his thumb in lazy circles until he’d abruptly dropped his hand away and started that ridiculous song.

  That song! She felt sure it was part of some act. Why in heaven’s name would a sane man behave this way? What mystery had she stumbled into by coming here?

  Life had become suspenseful in the last nine days. Miss McKinley shared what she’d heard about Merrilee’s mother’s will. Neither woman could figure out what Miss McKinley’s brother might discover to overturn it. Along with a stepfather who was up to no good, she would have a husband who might have a reason to act simple.

  Shaking away the thoughts, she rushed to join Myra on the bottom step. Taking the arm Holder extended, she stepped on the runner before finding the ground with her booted feet.

  “I don’t suppose I could bathe and change before the wedding?” She heard the resignation in her voice. Even before Holder shook his head in response, she knew the answer. As romantic as a Christmas Eve wedding sounded, she would remember standing before the minister in clothes she’d worn for eight days and black smut on her face and in her hair.

  Prodding herself mentally, she remembered the goal—attitude change! Smiling sweetly, she nodded to Holder to show she understood, even if she didn’t. She had come to be a wife and helper, not a princess.

  Inside the tiny sanctuary, she sniffed in deeply of the pine aroma. Pine branches decorated the altar along with candles. More pine branches surrounded a manger scene on a table set in front of the altar.

  In a corner at the front, a large tree dominated the sanctuary. It was so tall that the star at its top rubbed against the ceiling. Red bows dotted the tree along with several glass balls of either red, green, or gold.

  An older man stood at the front and beckoned with a wave of his hand for her to come forward. He looked very stern. When she reached him, she saw a twinkle in the eyes behind his spectacles that belied his serious expression.

  “I am very glad to meet you, Miss Rollins. I am Pastor Nillson and—” pointing toward the organ in the corner opposite the large tree he finished. “—that is my wife.”

  The woman wiggled her fingers in greeting and smiled. Appreciating the welcome, Merrilee waved back. She could do that much, even if she had no skill in speaking to strangers or starting a conversation.

  The pastor stared and surprise made him widen his eyes. “Why, the lovely young woman from the train!”

  Merrilee stood awkwardly, not sure what to say. Faces stared, waiting for her to make a comment. “You’ve just returned home?”

  Pastor Nillson smiled. “Yes, I’ve been at a pastoral conference in Indiana. But I’m home in time for tonight’s service.” His eyes twinkled. “And in time to perform a Christmas wedding.”

  Laughs and giggles echoed. She shifted nervously and forced a weak smile to her lips.

  A noise at the back signaled Carl’s entrance. When the minister frowned, Merrilee had turned to see what was wrong and noticed her fiancé.

  “Are you sure,” Pastor Nillson hesitantly asked, “that you know what you are taking on by marrying today?”

  She almost shook her head. Sure or not, she would marry as she’d promised. Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Yes, please marry us as planned.”

  The preacher beckoned Carl forward. As he approached, Carl frowned at an older couple who sat near the front in a pew by the tree.

  He looked at Pastor Nillson in question and pointed at them. “What are the Olsens’ doing here? I thought we were playing wedding with just the family. I don’t want to play with them.” His whine as he finished grated on Merrilee’s nerves and she winced.

  The minister looked from her to Carl and sighed. “They kindly left their mercantile because they are interested in you. Behave and let’s, um, ‘play wedding’.”

  As he finished walking to her side, Merrilee caught Carl’s look of concern for her. It reinforced the belief that this was all an act. The talented man had a reason for this farce. Considering his look of alarm at seeing the Olsens, she thought they might be a part of that reason.

  “Let us get started then.” Pastor Nillson said in a commanding voice that boomed in the small room. “Do you, Carl Verner Sittig, take this woman to be your wife? To have and to hold from this day forth, in sickness and in health, keeping yourself only to her?”

  Carl giggled like a girl. Fred, who stood at his side, poked his brother’s arm. Carl looked up at him in confusion.

  “Now’s the time you say, ‘I do.’ Get it done!”

  Continuing his silliness, Carl stretched out the two words. With a hand pinching each of his cheeks, he flapped them as he slowly spoke his agreement.

  Merrilee ignored him. If she hadn’t already suspected that he was pretending, she might have run from the church. As it was, his silliness intrigued her more. She’d never had such an adventure and looked forward to the challenge of marriage to Carl.

  Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, the pastor wiped sweat from his forehead before sticking the linen away again. “Do you, Merrilee Mae Rollins—”

  Carl’s song interrupted the minister. “Merrily, merrily, Merrilee Rollins is merrily rolling—”

  Merrilee looked up at her groom, her mouth agape. He grinned down at her until his brother squeezed his shoulder—hard. He abruptly stopped singing and hung his head.

  Clearing his throat, Pastor Nillson tried again. “Do you take this, um, man to be your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, keeping yourself only to him. For as long as you both shall live?” the minister shook his head slightly at her as he spoke. The poor man truly thought she was doing a terrible thing.

  Confidence ringing like a bell in her voice, Merrilee said, “I do!” pledging herself to the handsome and mysterious man who towered over her as h
e held her hand. Earlier she’d forced him to do that.

  “Girls are icky,” he’d chimed out in a high, childish voice.

  She’d watched him hold his nieces as well as touch her earlier so she knew he was performing for someone. It had to be for the benefit of either the preacher, his wife, or the Olsens. As she considered it, she caught Carl’s eyes flit in the direction of the Olsens. He didn’t turn his head but still tried to see their reaction.

  That answered her question. This was an act and these people were involved in causing it. Later, she would confront him and find out why.

  “I now pronounce you, umh, man and wife. You may kiss your bride.” The minister again stumbled over man, unable it seemed to see Carl as a mature man. Merrilee had no such problem and turned her face up, her lips pursed.

  Automatically, he leaned toward her. His eyes seemed glazed and sparkled with a warmth that she couldn’t quite name. Was this what passion looked like?

  Abruptly, he dropped her hand and threw up his own palms. “No! I won’t kiss a girl!” Racing down the narrow aisle, Carl bolted from the building.

  With a harrumph, Pastor Nillson growled, “Holder, you need to get him back to sign the license.”

  Merrilee watched the man she’d been introduced to in the wagon. Holder poked another man with a star pinned to his chest. She remembered Miss McKinley telling her about a brother named Fred who was the sheriff.

  Fred rose and loped after his brother. Calling over his shoulder, he assured everyone in a deep voice, “I’ll have that groom back in a jiffy. Probably out in the wagon.”

  Trained by her mother to ignore poor behavior in others, she turned her face away from Fred’s back and smiled at the preacher. “Perhaps I could help you fill out the marriage license and sign it? We’ll have everything ready for Carl’s return, then.”

  Her soft drawl seemed to soothe the minister. He smiled brightly and led her to a small table in the back of the crowded sanctuary. Opening the only drawer, he drew out the certificate as well as a bottle of ink and a pen. With care, he filled in the information she gave him as well as the details he already knew about Carl.