Page 8 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
“Yes, miss. I’ll get my bag.”
She didn’t know where he’d left his belongings, but he trotted out the door to find them. Olivia hugged her arms around herself and realized she shook. But she’d confronted the man and won a chance to prove herself. Which she fully intended to do.
She tightened the grip on her limbs. She’d hoped he’d be kind and supportive, encouraging of her learning but no, he’d be judging her efforts.
A jolt ran through her shaking arms as she realized the afternoon had departed. She’d have to make dinner. Though Sylvia had said they called it supper. What was she going to make? Sylvia had taught her a few basics, and she knew how to prepare a proper tea, but she needed supplies to make something more substantial.
Olivia scurried into the kitchen and opened all the cupboards. Dishes. Pots and pans. Spices. She needed more than that. Two doors led from the kitchen. One was the entryway she’d come through. Now she studied the room more closely. Two pairs of boots stood neatly, and two coats hung from hooks. She turned her attention to the second door and opened it to reveal a roomy pantry, its shelves full.
A number of items stood on the worktable. She lifted the tea towel covers and discovered a loaf of bread, a dozen biscuits, two jars of what she assumed was meat, and a basket containing carrots, potatoes, and green beans.Thank you, God. And thank you to whoever provided those items.
A bit of paper peeked out of the basket, and she withdrew it to read,Welcome to the newest Mrs. Shannon. We hope these few items will make the first day or two easier for you.It was signed,the other two Shannon wives—Gwen and Honor.
Her cold limbs warmed, and Olivia smiled. She wasn’t Mrs. Shannon yet but these gifts would help to get her on her way. She studied the items, planning how to use them when the outer door rattled open. She’d already heard Alfred return and go to the middle bedroom.
She went to see who had come in. Riley, of course. Who else would enter without knocking? Or was knocking not considered necessary in the West? On a ranch? She had much to learn and little time to do it.
“We’re invited to Andy’s place for supper.” His words were clipped but she couldn’t say if he was displeased or simply in a hurry.
“Now?”
“Mrs. Bennet said the meal was ready and I was told to fetch you.”
Fetch her? Like a trained dog? Never mind. She looked down at her traveling outfit. Wanting to look her best, she’d put on a gray dress for the last stage of her journey, but it showed signs of the dusty trip and was inappropriate for the evening meal. “I need to dress.” Uncle Harris had insisted everyone change for dinner. She’d brought several nice gowns that would be suitable.
“Looks to me like you are dressed.” His gaze ran over her pausing at her hair.
She’d paid no mind to it when she’d removed her hat. No doubt it needed tidying. Slightly flustered, she brushed a hand over her head. “I have far more suitable things to wear to a dinner.” She imagined him in a dinner jacket, black against a snow-white shirt. With his dark hair and dark eyes and strong jaw, he would be eye-catching, to say the least.
Interest disappeared from his eyes, replaced by what she guessed was criticism. “Miss Mullen, we live on a ranch. No onedressesfor supper. The meal isn’t fancy, nor is it a social event.”
She opened her mouth to explain that her outfit was travel-soiled and her hair untidy, but he never gave her a chance to speak.
“Now let’s go. No need to keep everyone waiting.”
Everyone? And he didn’t think it was a social event? She glanced past him. Alfred stood in his room, watching, and listening, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t care for the way Riley spoke to her.
The last thing she wanted or needed was to have Alfred set up opposition to Riley. “Very well, then I’m ready. What about Alfred?”
“He’ll come too of course.”
She bit her tongue to silence her protest. There was noof courseabout it. Alfred would not have joined the family back in Kellom, Illinois. Though perhaps that wasn’t what Riley meant. Things were so different here.
“Do you object?” Riley’s tone held a hint of warning which she heeded quickly.
“Certainly not.”
“Good.” He indicated the door and she swept out with all the regal bearing she could muster. Two years at a finishing school had instilled in her much on how to carry oneself properly and many other things—most of which she doubted would prove useful in her present circumstances.
Riley led the way across the yard and into the big house. They stepped into a large, warm kitchen. A long table with a gleaming white tablecloth was set. Twelve places. She gulped. A crowd of people stood watching her.
She gulped again and called to mind lessons on how to conduct herself in an awkward situation. This was nowhere near the most awkward she’d experienced. She recalled the many times back home when she’d been shunned or when she overheard cruel comments that she was meant to overhear. Her tension seeped out and she smiled.
“Riley, would you do the introductions?” Andy prompted.
She had already decided who everyone was but listened carefully as Riley spoke.
“You all know I was to meet Sylvia Thorton and we were to be married. However, Miss Olivia Mullen came instead. Say hello to Miss Mullen.”
