RNWMP_Bride for Michael Page 2

  It was possibly the most reckless thing she’d ever done, but before she could talk herself out of it, she told Matilda she’d be right back, grabbed her hat, and dashed down the sidewalk, threading between pedestrians and dogs and carriages out to enjoy the spring day and rapped upon the door until it was opened by Miss Hazel herself.

  “I’ll come,” she said breathlessly. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Chapter Two

  Everything about the MacDonalds rubbed Michael Hadderly the wrong way. He’d never seen a Mrs. MacDonald, and he wondered if her presence would be a softening influence on the man and his grown sons, all of whom liked to stir up trouble wherever they went. He and the other Mounties had broken up more fistfights at the saloon on account of those men than they had all the rest of the town combined. Now, as he sat on his horse across the street from the general store watching them unload something from their wagon, he couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to now.

  That’s not what he wanted to be thinking about, though. He’d much rather that his thoughts be taken up with the idea of the bride who would be arriving in about two weeks. It had been Ernie’s idea to send for brides—his brother, Bert, had recently remarried with the aid of a matchmaker, and reported that he couldn’t be happier. When Ernie brought the idea to the table for their unit, he was met with mixed reactions. Aaron didn’t like the idea much, but then, he’d always been pretty quiet about his ideas of romance. Timothy seemed game. And Michael . . . he’d thought about it for a few minutes, and after weighing all the pros and cons and of course, asking himself what had gotten into Ernie, he realized that having a wife would be a very nice thing after all. So he’d agreed. But now … now he couldn’t decide whether to be more nervous or excited. He’d always wanted a family, but believed he’d given that up when he became a Mountie. Now it seemed that he’d be getting his way on both counts.

  Timothy, his commander, rode up beside him and brought his horse to a stop. “Is something wrong?” he asked quietly.

  Michael nodded across the street. “Just the MacDonalds bringing some goods in to trade. I don’t know what it is about them, but they make my spine crawl.”

  “Mine too,” Timothy agreed. “I always feel like they’re up to something, but I can’t put my finger on what, and we can’t arrest them just for being annoying.”

  “I wish we could. Wonder if we could get a law passed or something.”

  Timothy laughed. “Thanks for keeping an eye on things. I’m heading out on rounds, and I’ll check in before six.”

  Michael nodded, then nudged his horse on. It was his turn to watch over the station, so he tied up his horse and went inside, hanging his hat on the nail driven into the wall.

  “Glad you’re here,” Aaron said, standing up and stretching. “Today’s been duller than dishwater.”

  “Oh, so you got all the paperwork done, then?” Michael asked. None of the men liked doing it, and it piled up quite a bit from time to time. Timothy had asked them to get a handle on it that week.

  “Not hardly. I don’t know why we don’t just do it as it comes up.”

  “If you figure out that answer, you’re a smarter man than any of the rest of us. Go get your lunch.”

  Aaron nodded. “I won’t argue with you.”

  Michael loosened the top button on his jacket and sat down behind the desk, pulling the stack of paperwork toward him. He still needed to write up a report on the assault charges Mrs. Hanks had pressed, and then dropped, against Mrs. Wallace, who had apparently elbowed her when they were hanging laundry on the line. Not to mention the fight he’d broken up between those same two ladies the day before, when they disagreed about whose cherry pie was best. He shook his head. Bison Bay was so different from Montreal, where he’d been assigned previously. There, he dealt with pickpockets and thugs. Here, he dealt with squabbling neighbors and truant children.

  A wife would certainly make things a bit more exciting. He smiled as he grabbed a clean sheet of paper from the drawer. At the very least, it would be a change from the regular routines that were grating on his nerves as of late.

  ***

  Kathryn had grown so fond of Mrs. Pratt and Matilda that it was hard to say goodbye. They had assured her that they’d be all right by themselves until the following Friday, when Mrs. Pratt’s son would be along to fetch her and Matilda would catch a train to her next post, but Kathryn still worried.

  “I’ll write you each often,” she promised, hugging them and then wiping her eyes as she made her way to Miss Hazel’s. She’d nearly changed her mind a dozen times and then talked herself right back into it. If only there had been time to exchange more letters with Michael and get to know him. Of course, a person can tell any number of lies in a letter, but sometimes they revealed beautiful things about the soul, too.

  Miss Hazel greeted her warmly and showed her upstairs to a lovely private bedroom. “After you’ve had a chance to look around a bit, come downstairs and meet the other girls,” she said.

  Kathryn thanked her, then turned to the trunk that had been brought up by the hack driver. She hung up her dresses, put her underthings in a drawer, and set her hairbrush on the dressing table. She didn’t have much else to arrange, so within minutes, she was heading down the stairs, feeling perhaps even more nervous to meet the other girls than she was about meeting her husband. She wanted them to like her—she badly wanted friends.

  “Hello,” she said when she entered the parlor. “I’m Kathryn.”

  “Hello, Kathryn!” The pretty blonde who had been standing by the window came over and gave her a quick hug. “I’m Josie.”

  The other two girls greeted her as well. Elizabeth, another redhead, and Nettie, a brunette, seemed like nice girls.

  “Who are you marrying?” Nettie asked.

  “Michael Hadderly,” Kathryn replied. That sounded so odd—she was going to marry someone.

  “Are you nervous or excited?”

  “I’m definitely nervous. But I’m also excited.” Kathryn laughed. “I think I’m nervous about the groom, but excited about the island.”

  The other girls laughed as well. It only took a moment for them to discover that they’d all read Anne of Green Gables and had romanticized ideas about where they’d be going.

  “And of course we all want to marry Gilbert Blythe,” Josie said.

  “Of course! We may have to fight over him,” Elizabeth replied.

  Kathryn liked these girls quite a bit—they each had a sense of humor, which they showed in their own ways. Josie and Nettie were more outspoken where she and Elizabeth were more reserved, but soon they were all chattering away without any inhibitions at all.

  “Oh, what a darling little nest of chicks,” Miss Hazel said when she came in the room a moment later. “Welcome to every one of you. I’m so glad you’re coming along on this adventure, and it looks like you’re getting along splendidly. Perfect.” She looked at each of them. “Now, who’s ready to begin their lessons?”

  ***

  The week went by so quickly, Kathryn almost didn’t notice the passage of time. Miss Hazel wanted each of them to have a few recipes memorized, the things that she thought their husbands would most like to eat, and she rehearsed those meals with them over and over. She made sure they each knew how to do laundry and iron, and she spoke with them quite a bit about how to get their work done efficiently so they’d have time to do other things as well. “What’s life without time to read a novel?” she asked, and Kathryn had to agree.

  Josie already knew how to do each thing Miss Hazel showed them, while Elizabeth and Nettie struggled a bit. Kathryn did better with the mending than she did with the cooking, but her food was passable. What made the week the most fun was listening to more of Miss Hazel’s stories. She found humor in everything, and that made even the most tedious task enjoyable.

  The night before they were to leave, Miss Hazel asked them all to gather in the parlor. “We’ll be leaving for the train station
before we know it, so I hope you’ve all been packing,” she said. “I’m told spring is coming on beautifully on Prince Edward Island, so the weather should be temperate. There will likely be some rain, but that’s what makes spring spring.” She sighed, then looked around at them. “I’m going to miss you all. You’ve been a pleasure and a joy to work with.”

  “You haven’t enjoyed the other groups as much?” Nettie asked. She always seemed rather curious to hear Miss Hazel’s thoughts on things.

  “I’ve enjoyed each of them, and I suppose I should confess that each new group is my favorite. I’m so blessed.” Sudden tears came to her eyes, and she dabbed at them with her handkerchief. “Oh, look at me. I’m a blubbering mess. You must all promise to write me, won’t you? I’ll want to know how you’re getting on, and when you have children, and what their names are . . .” She wiped her eyes again. “Don’t become strangers.”

  “We won’t,” the girls chorused, gathering around for a group hug.

  They were chattering so much, they almost didn’t hear the knock at the door. Josie stepped away to answer it, then came back. “Kathryn, it’s someone for you.”

  Kathryn walked out to the foyer, curious. Who even knew she was here? “Mrs. Pratt! Matilda!” she said when she saw them. “Won’t you come in?”

  “We can’t stay but a minute,” Mrs. Pratt said. “I just couldn’t let you go without saying another goodbye, and I brought you a little something.” Her trembling hands held out a small meat pie. “This is my grandmother’s recipe, and it took me a while, but I made it for you myself. As a token of what you’ve meant to me.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Pratt.” Now Kathryn was the one crying. “This is the kindest gift I’ve ever received.” She gave the woman a hug, then took the pie.

  “You need to taste it and tell me what you think,” Mrs. Pratt said. “I remember eating these sitting at my grandmother’s knee when I was a little girl.”

  Kathryn lifted the pie and took a big bite. The crust was flaky, but the filling had so much pepper, she had to force a smile. “Tell me about your grandmother,” she said after she swallowed. Maybe Mrs. Pratt wouldn’t ask her how she liked it if they were talking about something else.

  “She came here from Scotland when she was sixteen and married a sheep farmer,” Mrs. Pratt said. “She was a darling woman. Eat up.” She gestured at Kathryn.

  Kathryn forced a smile and took another bite. She glanced at Matilda, hoping for some sort of reinforcement, but Matilda seemed oblivious to what she was going through. The housekeeper had obviously not been observing the peppering of the pie.

  “I miss my grandmother horribly,” Mrs. Pratt said, continuing to talk while Kathryn continued to eat. Her eyes were watering, but she’d grab some of Miss Hazel’s delicious punch in a minute. “Oh, the memories I have of her.”

  Kathryn swallowed the last bite. “She sounds like she was a lovely woman.”

  “Yes, she was.” Mrs. Pratt gave Kathryn another smile. “I’d best be off, but I wanted to wish you well. Please write to me often.”

  “I will,” Kathryn promised, and they said goodbye again with more hugs and tears.

  After she closed the door behind her visitors, Kathryn poured herself a glass of punch to ease the burning in her mouth. She didn’t know just what Mrs. Pratt had done to ruin the recipe, but she’d wager that her grandmother had never made meat pies quite like that.

  Chapter Three

  The ache in Kathryn’s stomach didn’t go away all night. She’d never been very fond of pepper in the first place, but eating what had to be five times the regular amount was definitely five times worse. She was finally able to drift off sometime around three, which was certainly not enough sleep for their early wake-up call.

  She splashed cold water on her face, trying to invigorate herself, but it didn’t work. She dressed and fixed her hair automatically, noticing that as she bent to put on her shoes, she felt nauseated. This wasn’t good—she was about to get on the train that would take her to the rest of her life. She couldn’t be sick. Not today.

  Despite trying to think positively, however, her stomach just wouldn’t settle, and when they reached the train station, she had to step away and vomit discreetly. It wouldn’t do to make a fuss—there wasn’t anything the others could really do for her, so she didn’t say anything.

  They boarded the train and got settled. Kathryn chose a seat by Nettie, who was not only her closest friend from the house, but the one least likely to overreact if Kathryn continued to feel ill. She did seem to notice something was amiss and asked Kathryn if she felt all right. Kathryn waved it off, hoping it wouldn’t become a bigger issue.

  As the miles rolled by beneath them, Kathryn felt herself becoming disoriented. She was aware of Miss Hazel checking in on her, and she gave the woman a smile and a vague answer. She was also aware of a handsome Mountie who took a seat nearby. He introduced himself as Bryce Muir and said he was heading for a new posting on Prince Edward Island. He seemed to be glancing Nettie’s way a bit more than he should, but of course, he didn’t know she was on her way to get married.

  Nettie didn’t seem to notice, though, and kept writing in her diary.

  Kathryn blinked a few times and tried to rally herself into feeling normal, asking Nettie what she was writing about. It seemed she had that book with her almost all the time. Nettie didn’t seem to want to share, so Kathryn didn’t press her.

  For a few hours, Kathryn believed she’d be all right, but then she had to excuse herself to slip into the restroom, and then she had to step out the back door of the car and onto the platform. She hated vomiting worse than almost any other sort of ailment, and now it seemed she wasn’t going to be able to stop. What on earth was wrong with her?

  When she returned to her seat, Nettie fixed her with inquisitive eyes. “What’s going on?”

  Kathryn thought about making something up—she really didn’t want to call attention to herself. But she didn’t have the energy to concoct a believable story, and she decided it was best to be truthful after all.

  “I’ve had the most horrible stomachache all night, and now I can’t stop vomiting,” she said, lowering her voice so the Mountie wouldn’t hear. It was embarrassing enough to have an ailment, but even worse to be overheard talking about it.

  “Well, that’s not good.” Nettie dug in her bag and pulled out some lemon drops. “Suck on these. Peppermint drops are better, but I don’t have any of those.”

  Kathryn tucked one of the candies in her mouth and winced as the sharp flavor hit her taste buds. It seemed to help, though, and it was several minutes before she had to excuse herself again.

  The ferry ride they took after exiting the train was excruciating. Kathryn usually enjoyed the water, but not this time. She clung to the railing and vomited over the side several times, wishing there was any way to remain discreet. Nettie stood guard for her a bit, blocking the view of anyone wandering by, but there was only so much she could do. Miss Hazel bustled around, lending support, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead.

  By the time they finally reached their destination of Bison Bay, Prince Edward Island, Kathryn was so weak, she could barely hold herself up.

  “You’re going to be all right,” Nettie told her briskly. “I’ll see to it personally. In fact, I insist on it.”

  Kathryn smiled. She couldn’t imagine anyone arguing with Nettie when she spoke in that determined voice. “If I could just hold still for a few minutes, maybe lie down, I’m sure I’d be all right.”

  Nettie patted her shoulder, then turned back to speaking with Bryce.

  “We’re coming into the dock now,” Miss Hazel said reassuringly.

  As the ferry maneuvered into place, Kathryn pressed her hand to her mouth. She had to stay strong—the other ferry passengers were paying more attention to the front of the craft, and they’d be sure to notice her if she had to lean over the side again. She managed to stay in her seat until the ferry came to a stop, and then she pul
led in a few deep breaths.

  As the passengers prepared to get off, Nettie studied Kathryn’s eyes. “Can you make it down the gangplank? You look weaker than a new colt.”

  “I’ve never seen a new colt, so I don’t know how to answer that. I think I can make it down, though.”

  “All right. Because I could ask the porter to sling you over his shoulder and carry you.”

  Kathryn started to laugh, but pressed her hand to her stomach when it roiled. “Oh, please don’t be funny. I can’t take it right now.”

  “All right, I won’t be funny. Come on—I think they’re waiting for us.”

  Kathryn walked down the gangplank, grasping Nettie’s elbow as they made their way toward the three red-coated Mounties who were waiting for them. She was curious to know which one was hers, but at the moment, she was even more concerned with putting one foot in front of the other and not stumbling. Elizabeth and Josie found their Mounties right off the bat—in fact, Josie’s swept hers up into a giant kiss. Bryce moved forward and introduced himself to the men, and they chatted for a few minutes.

  Elizabeth’s Mountie came forward to brace Kathryn on her other side as she gingerly stepped down the gangplank, introducing himself as Aaron.

  “Where is Michael?” she asked.

  “Back at the station. One of us has to do the boring work.” He gave her a smile, and she liked him immediately. Then he stepped back to speak with Elizabeth, who had a strange look on her face, but Kathryn was feeling too fuzzy headed to try to reason out why.

  Miss Hazel had led the way and was speaking to the men, but then she turned back with her face ashen.

  “The commander, Timothy, the one who was going to marry Nettie . . .” She faltered. “He was just murdered.”

  Kathryn felt a jolt of surprise race down Nettie’s arm. Oh, how horrible. Not only was a good man dead, but Nettie would never have the chance to meet him, let alone marry and have a family with him.