He herded the boys together, and they entered the coolness of the church. More curious stares. He nodded and smiled until his face grew stiff. Once they settled and the Pastor began the service, he wiped his brow and relaxed.
The last notes of “Amazing Grace” reverberated in the air as the congregation began to file out at the end of the service. As he held Julia-Rose against his shoulder with one hand, Nate ushered the boys out of the pew. He did more nodding and smiling at friends as they made their way out of the church.
“Where’s your lovely wife this morning?” Pastor Dunn asked as he shook Nate’s hand.
The line stopped, conversation ceased, all ears tuned. “She had a little accident. Not serious,” he added quickly when he saw the preacher’s expression. “She slipped on water and hurt her ribs.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Poor Mrs. Hale. It would have been nice to see her again, and introduce her to the congregation.”
“Our new mama was naked!” Luke piped up.
“Yeah, and guess what? She threw up on Papa!” John chimed in, wide-eyed.
Smiling lamely, Nate nodded at the preacher, and nudged the boys forward.
He continued to take congratulations from those who had heard about the marriage, along with comments about his injured wife. Twice he had to put his hands over his sons’ mouths to keep them from elaborating on their family life. He would have been better off staying at home this morning.
Eventually, they made their way to the buggy. Realizing Mark was missing, he left Julia-Rose in Matt’s care and headed toward a group of boys under a large tree on the side of the church.
“Yeah, and Matt said when they got downstairs, she was lying on the floor. Naked!” Wide-eyed, Mark held cupped hands out from his chest and continued. “Matt said she has really big . . .”
“Mark!” Nate grabbed the boy by the collar.
Jerking his head up, and blushing furiously, Mark wrenched himself from his father’s grip. He muttered, "Gotta go," and ran toward the buggy.
Mrs. Darby pushed the door open with her impressive rear end, and turned with a tray of f
ood in her hands.
“Here we are, dear.” She placed the tray on the bed. “Bread with jam, and tea.”
Angel winced as she attempted to pick up the tea. Since the medicine had worn off, her side throbbed even when she didn’t move.
“My goodness.” Mrs. Darby settled in the chair alongside the bed. “You have certainly had a hard time since you left home.”
As Angel sipped the hot, fragrant tea, her mind filled with thoughts of how much harder it would become once she was able to move around again, and Nate discovered her stepmother’s deception. He seemed like such a nice man, and tears gathered in her eyes when she considered the disappointment he would feel, once he found out.
“Now, now, dear.” Mrs. Darby patted her hand. “Don’t you trouble yourself. I’ll be here to take care of things until you’re on your feet again. Then you can take over, and things will work out, you’ll see.”
Angel put down the cup and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. “You don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Things won’t ever work out. I can’t do anything. I shouldn’t even be here.”
“So you got off to a bad start. These things happen.” Mrs. Darby continued to pat her hand and murmur encouragement. When Angel’s tears failed to subside, the older woman leaned close. “What’s the matter, dear? You seem very distressed. Is there something in particular that’s troubling you?”
Angel wiped her eyes, and attempted to take a deep breath, but pain in her ribs stopped her short. “When I say I can’t do anything, I mean I really can’t do anything.”
The older woman frowned, her expression questioning.
Angel sighed. “I was raised with servants. I have never made a bed, cooked a meal, or cleaned a house in my whole life.”
She wiped her eyes with cold fingers. “I’m a fake. And that nice man with all those children, at this very moment in church, who married me in good faith, is going to be so mad when he finds out.”
“I don’t understand.” Mrs. Darby leaned back and looked at her in surprise. “If you come from such a background, why did you agree to be a mail order bride?”
Angel’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t. My stepmother did. She applied at the agency in my name, she sent the letters to Nate, and signed the contracts.”
The woman’s jaw dropped. “Why would she do such a thing?”
Angel related the story of her papa’s illness, ending with her arrival in Oregon.