Page 6 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
Riley blurted out the first words that came to mind. “What makes either you or Sylvia think you can simply send a substitute bride?”
She stood silent a moment then said softly, “We did write you a note. Obviously, you haven’t received it. But honestly, I’ve read your letters and I can’t see what difference it makes who comes.” Her eyes were steady and her gaze probing as if she thought she could read his thoughts if she stared hard enough.
He shifted his attention to the piano behind her.
“Did you have a fondness for Sylvia?” Her tone was less demanding than he expected.
He shrugged. “She sounded like a nice person and more than that, I’m certain she would have fit in.”
Olivia’s brows rose. “Fit in?”
“Look, Miss Mullen, I need someone who is used to managing a house, who knows how to cook a meal, and doesn’t expect a nanny to raise her children.”
Her brows lifted even higher, and she stuck out her chin. “What makes you think I can’t do those things?”
His study of her was long and intent, hopefully indicating his reservations about her abilities as well as any words could. “Can you?”
“I can do a bit and the rest I can learn.”
He tossed his hat at the wall not caring if it landed on the hook or not. “You are not the right person for the job.” His jaw ached from clenching his teeth. All he’d wanted was to come home to the scent of apple pie in his kitchen and a clean house. He guessed she lacked the skills for anything like that.
“How can you be certain? You haven’t even given me a try.” Her eyes were challenging. She was obviously going to be stubborn about this.
He didn’t have the time or patience for dealing with a headstrong woman. He glanced out the window hoping to ease the knot below his ear, but it intensified when he saw his brothers lounging nearby. Waiting to see what he’d do. As the eldest, they should show him a little respect, but he knew they’d find endless ways of teasing him about his failed attempt at finding a bride.
He turned back to Olivia, his tone weary. “Why is this so important to you?”
The fight appeared to go out of her. She sank to the nearest chair which happened to be a piano stool.
“I can’t go back.” The tremble in her voice brought a burst of sympathy to Riley’s thoughts. Her gaze lifted to him barely long enough for him to see a sheen.
He closed his eyes and filled his reluctant lungs. “Why not? Don’t you have a home?” That’s how it was for Luke’s wife—Honor. She had no place to return to. But even so… “You’re obviously well off. I’m sure you can afford to relocate and buy a wonderful home.”
She shuddered. “There are reasons I can’t go back. This appealed to me as a good spot to start over.”
“What do your parents think of your decision?”
“My parents are dead. I’ve lived with my aunt and uncle since I was ten.”
For a moment, knowing she’d been orphaned tugged at his reluctant thoughts. “And they agree with what you’re wanting to do?” Were they like Honor’s aunt and uncle who found her a nuisance they couldn’t wait to get rid of? Though perhaps it had only been Honor’s uncle who treated her that way.
“They understand my reasons and as I pointed out to them, theirs was an arranged marriage and they’ve done very well.” A fleeting smile suggested a fondness for her aunt and uncle.
“But why would you want to be a rancher’s wife? I guarantee it is nothing like you’re obviously accustomed to.” His gaze took in the piano and the trunks to indicate what he meant. Again, he looked out the window. Yup. His brothers were still there. Curious and no doubt waiting for the chance to rib him.
“I am prepared to take Sylvia’s place. In every way.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. She no doubt referred to one of his requirements—children.
He could understand her discomfort at addressing the issue. He’d found it incredibly difficult to write frankly of the matter, but it was one of the strongest reasons for seeking marriage. That and hot meals at the end of the day and his house cleaned. He’d heard the others complain about the usual state of his place. It had been described as a pigsty. Thank goodness Honor and Gwen had cleaned the rooms in preparation for the woman he’d meant to marry and bring home. The two were mail-order brides to the twins. It was seeing them so successfully and happily married that encouraged him to go the same route.
He was ready to settle down with a wife, a warm and welcoming home, and children, but with a woman who understood hard work and isolation though with two of his brothers married, there would be company available to a small degree. “You won’t last. The minute things get difficult you’ll be asking me to take you to town.”
Her chin jutted out. Her eyes darkened and snapped. “I guarantee I won’t.”
“I guarantee you will. Life makes certain demands on a ranch.”
“I read your letters. I know what you told Sylvia. About the rains and snows. About men coming in late and covered with mud. About having to haul water to the house and carry in wood for the fire. About having to take care of ourselves.”
He noted that she had saidournotyour. He looked around. “You brought a lot of stuff.”
