“Unless you plan to leave it for the maid.”
Her teeth gritted, she stopped with her hands on the handkerchiefs. “What is it that angers you the most about me? Is it that I have so far succeeded where you predicted failure?”
Sitting down on the chair, her hands clutched in front of her, she looked at him. “I can see now that what I did wasn’t fair to you or your children, but I think you should give me a chance. I think you’ve misjudged me.”
For a moment she saw that look of desire in his eyes, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, but then it was gone again and he looked at her coldly. “Let me explain something to you, Miss Montgomery, I—” He put his hand up when she started to speak. “All right, then, Mrs. Greene. My children mean more to me than anything else in the world. They mean everything to me, and I want to give them the best that I can, and by the best I mean a life that has a great deal of stability to it. I want them to have a father and a mother as well. I want them to have what I didn’t have, and I want them to grow up in the country in the fresh air; I want them to have food—home-cooked food. In order to obtain those things for my children, I am willing to do anything I have to. If I have to marry a woman who is part horse in order to give them what they need, then I’ll do so. Do you understand me?”
“What about love?” Carrie asked softly. “Doesn’t love matter to you?”
When he answered, he didn’t meet her eyes. “I love them enough for a dozen people. What they need is good food and a clean house and clean clothes.”
“I see. And you have decided that I can’t give them any of those things. You’ve known me for only a few hours, yet you’ve decided exactly what I’m like.”
He smiled at her in a patronizing way. “Look at you. How much did that dress cost you, and are those real pearls you’re wearing? You don’t have to answer me. I unloaded your trunks, remember? Do you think I’m so stupid as to think that someone like you is going to be happy living in this…” He waved his hand. “This hovel?” He leaned toward her, the table width between them. “You know what I think, Miss Montgomery? And yes it is and will always be Miss Montgomery, because I don’t mean to actually make you into Mrs. Greene, if you know what I mean.”
Carrie couldn’t help herself, but she glanced toward the bedroom, which she hadn’t yet seen.
“Exactly,” Josh said. “What I think is that this is a great adventure to you. You probably grew up spoiled and pampered by these too-magnificent-to-be-believed brothers of yours and you think you can do anything you want. Right now you want to spread your cheery little self around the house of some poor man and his children. But what happens to us after you get tired of us? Do you come into our lives, make us laugh with your stories, make the children and—” He sighed. “Make the children come to love you, and for that matter, maybe make me come to adore you, too, then when you’re tired of us, you go back to Daddy and your fascinating brothers? Is that what’s going to happen?”
“No,” she said and started to defend herself, but he wouldn’t let her speak.
“How old are you, Miss Montgomery? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty, at most, is my guess.”
Carrie didn’t answer him, for he seemed to have everything figured out, so why bother trying to dissuade him?
“You haven’t had time to see anything of the world or to experience anything. Quite romantically, you fell in love with a photograph, and you thought you’d give marriage a try. How exciting to travel all the way out West with hundreds of dresses and—”
Abruptly, he broke off and stood up. “What the hell’s the use trying to explain? You’d never understand in a million years.” He gave a sigh of resignation. “All right, Miss Montgomery, here’s the way it’s going to be. You may stay here for one week—until the stage travels through again—then I’m sending you back to your father as intact as you were when you arrived. You were so clever at arranging this marriage all by yourself, so you can arrange the annulment all by yourself.”
Carrie stood up also. “Are you through? Have you finished insulting both me and my family? Maybe I should tell you about the town where I grew up so you can insult that too. It’s true that I grew up with money, but as far as I know you don’t have to be poor in order to want to give and receive love. And whether you believe me or not, love is why I came to this place. I—” She stopped because if she didn’t, she was going to start crying. When she thought of all her expectations and the reality of meeting the man she thought she was going to love, she could do little else except cry.
With all the dignity she could muster, she picked up her night case, tucked her dog under her arm, and walked toward the bedroom. “I shall stay here one week, Mr. Greene, not because of you, but because those children of yours need a little happiness in their lives, and if I can give them one week of happiness, that’s better than nothing. At the end of the week I shall return to my father just as you wish.” She took a step into the bedroom, her hand on the door. “As for your not touching me during that week, that is your loss.” With that she slammed the door.
She managed to maintain her anger for about three minutes, then she flung herself on the none-too-clean bed and began to cry. Choo-choo licked her face and seemed as sad as she was.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Carrie was out of bed before dawn—or at least it seemed so to her. Usually, she awoke early, but she had a talent for turning over and going back to sleep, but this morning it took her a moment to remember where she was. Her eyes were puffy from crying herself to sleep, and she had a bit of a headache.
Reluctantly, she got out of the warm bed, opened the bedroom door, and went into the parlor—if it could be called that—and smiled when she saw that it was empty. Good, she thought, she was up before they were. But then she saw that there was a note on the table. They couldn’t have come and gone already, could they? It was barely dawn.
Ignoring the note, she turned back to the bedroom, trying not to look at the dreariness of the little room. A bureau that didn’t look as though it would make good firewood was against one wall and on top of it was a pocket watch that she assumed was Josh’s. Squinting against the early morning light, she looked at the watch. Eight o’clock. Good heavens, she had never been out of bed this early in her life. Even when she was going to school, her tutor had started her classes at eleven.
Yawning, she went back into the big room and picked up the paper from the table. Recognizing Josh’s handwriting, she was instantly transported back to the time in Maine when she had read and reread his letter asking for a wife, and later she had memorized his letter saying he agreed to her terms of a proxy marriage.
Sitting down, Choo-choo on her lap, she read Josh’s letter.
Dear Miss Montgomery:
I didn’t sleep much last night as I was thinking about our few conversations—if you can call them that. Whatever has happened, I believe you meant well. I now believe that your intentions were good and maybe there’s some truth in my children needing more than just clean clothes and hot food. But whatever your intentions, my children do need those things.
Twice you have asked me to give you a chance to prove yourself, to allow you to show me that you are not what you appear to be, so I have decided to give you that chance. You have proven yourself to be capabl
e of caring for my children in a maternal way—at breakfast they could hardly keep their eyes off the bedroom door. In fairness to you, you seem to genuinely like my children, but I wonder if you can do the chores necessary to be a farmer’s wife.
I am enclosing a list of chores that I will expect you to complete within the week that you are to be with us. If you can do these things, then I am willing to discuss what possible future there is for you as the mother of my children.
Sincerely yours,