Bride For Marshall Page 3

Marshall tried not to chuckle at her propensity for getting distracted. He found her exuberance charming, and he was surprised to discover he felt relieved she liked the little town so much. Not that they’d be staying there forever since he’d no doubt be assigned somewhere new at some point, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Colleen would be happy no matter where she lived. And if she wasn’t, he promised himself that he would do everything he could to make sure she was.

  That’s what good husbands did, wasn’t it?

  She prattled away, exclaiming over every little thing, until they reached their front door.

  “Here we are,” he said, holding his breath that she wouldn’t be too disappointed in the humble little cabin. The government provided housing, but they didn’t promise it would be luxurious. In fact, Marshall had never lived in such rustic conditions himself. He just prayed Colleen wouldn’t run screaming.

  Her green eyes stared at the structure for a moment, then glanced up at him, then back to the cabin. Her red curls bobbed merrily, but the expression on her face looked like shock. And not the happy kind. His heart sank down to the level of his stomach. She hated it.

  “It’s so…” she breathed, then went silent. She gulped and took a deep breath. “It’s so cute! And it’s all ours? I can’t believe I have my own home!”

  Dropping her grip on his arm, she ran up the two steps to the door and let herself inside. Marshall had never felt so relieved in his life.

  Following her, he wiped his feet on the doormat before entering. He’d spent the last week cleaning every nook and cranny and corner and ledge in the place, trying to make it as livable for her as possible. He wasn’t about to dirty it up now.

  Colleen stood just inside the door, hands on her hips as she surveyed the cabin. Aside from their time in the church, she’d never been so quiet for so long. Turning to him with tears in her eyes and a broad smile on her pretty face, she whispered, “I love it.”

  Her smile was infectious. “I’m so glad.”

  “Now it just needs a good cleaning,” she said, spinning around and scurrying to the small kitchen. “Where are the cleaning supplies?”

  Trying not to feel insulted that she clearly thought his cleaning skills were subpar, he pointed to a small crate in the corner of the kitchen. “In that cr—“

  “Found them! Would you be a dear and fill this bucket while I start sweeping?”

  Marshall watched, completely bemused, as Colleen worked. He’d been a fool to have considered his cleaning job adequate. All he’d done, it seemed, was push the dirt around a bit, but after a couple of hours of doing whatever chore Colleen asked of him, he stood back and examined their new home and barely recognized it.

  Oh, all the same furniture — what little there was of it — remained, but after scrubbing the floors, Colleen had rearranged things in a way that made it seem more like a home than a house. The rocking chair sat at an angle to the fireplace and she’d moved a spare chair from the table next to it. Plopping a soft pillow on its seat and shifting a short stool in front of it, she’d created a comfortable seating arrangement for them.

  “Isn’t that cozy?”

  Marshall nodded, impressed. “It really is. I didn’t know I’d been living so uncomfortably before.”

  Colleen snickered. “Silly! What time is it?”

  When he pulled out his brass pocket watch and told her, she gasped.

  “I’d better start dinner!”

  Marshall didn’t bother telling her he’d stocked up on some staples and a couple of nice steaks the day before, in anticipation of her arrival. She already had her head in the ice box, taking an inventory. Hopeless as he was in the kitchen, he started a fire and sat in his rocking chair. A local man had made it for him, and Marshall made a mental note to order a matching one for his new bride.

  “Anything I can do to help?” he called as she buzzed around the kitchen, exploring drawers and cupboards.

  She flashed him a bright smile and shook her head. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but you’d just be in my way.”

  Marshall sighed with satisfaction, kicked his feet up on the stool and tucked his hands behind his head. “Fine by me.”

  For the rest of the evening, Marshall was awed by Colleen’s work ethic and good humor. Half the time she was singing, the other half whistling. She didn’t seem to have a gloomy bone in her body. He already felt his mood lightening during their short time together, and he thought it was a feeling he quite liked.

  He’d often wondered if spending so much time alone — always thinking, thinking, thinking — might not be the best thing for him. Many of his days before Colleen arrived had been too dark, too grave. But she was like a bright ray of sunlight shooting through storm clouds. Just watching her move about the cabin lifted his spirits.

  The meal she served him lifted them even higher. The steaks were rare, just how he liked them, and he’d never tasted such flavorful mashed potatoes in his life.

  “My secret is just a little garlic,” she told him when he complimented her. “It doesn’t take much, but it sure makes them sparkle.”

  Marshall wanted to say that she made everything sparkle, but didn’t want to seem forward. The kiss they’d shared at their wedding had nearly curled his toes, but he also didn’t want to move too fast for her.

  “My goodness,” she said through a yawn as she took his plate, “but I’m all of a sudden bone tired.”

  “Let me do the dishes then, while you unpack your things and get ready for bed.”

  As he reached for the plate, his fingers brushed across hers. Tingles swept up his arm, and their eyes locked for a split second. Then she cleared her throat and looked away.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, then hurried over to the corner of the cabin that held the bed.

  Still reeling from the softness of her skin, even after a full day of cleaning, Marshall went to the sink and slowly pumped water. He kept his back turned to give her privacy and mentally kicked himself for not hanging a curtain of some kind.

  “I’m decent,” she called.

  He waited until he heard her settle into the bed before daring to turn around. But instead of following her to bed, he moved his rocking chair closer to the fire and lost himself in the glowing depths as he waited for her to fall asleep.

  Once again, the nagging, ugly thoughts he’d been fighting off rose to the surface. Who was he to think he had what it took to be a good husband? He was now responsible for another person, something he would never have believed possible before, but there she was, in his bed.

  Waiting for him.

  The longer he waited, the more difficult the prospect of joining her became. As much as he already cared for Colleen, he had no idea if he was up for the responsibility that came with marriage. He did know the first step was climbing into bed with her. All he had to do was stand up.

  3

  The air outside the comforter was chilly on Colleen’s arms when she woke the next morning. Snuggling deeper into the warmth of the bed, she peeked one eye open and glanced toward the window to see just how light it was outside. Instead of the bright morning sun or the subdued blue-gray of dawn, she was greeted by a monster staring in at her.

  “Eeee!” she screeched, then yanked the covers over her head in her dozy state of fear.

  “What! What’s wrong?” came Marshall’s startled response, and for the first time Colleen realized he wasn’t in bed next to her.

  Heart thumping, she peered out from the covers and saw the same broad face watching her, but it wasn’t the face of a monster. It was a bison.

  “Chip! Go away!” she shouted, but the beast simply blinked his soft brown eyes. His breath fogged up the window in little puffs. Only when Marshall leapt up from the rocking chair and waved his arms did Chip finally deign to slowly amble off to play Peeping Tom on someone else.

  Marshall turned to her, his black hair mussed up and his wool long johns rumpled. Dark shadows hung below his eyes, and the way he winced when he stre
tched his back spoke of a long, uncomfortable night trying to sleep upright in a rocking chair.

  Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Why did you sleep out there?”

  She hadn’t meant to sound pouty, but that’s exactly how she felt. Marshall frowned and looked at the chair, a thin wool blanket crumpled on the floor next to it, then back at her.

  “Oh, um… You were so tired, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Not once when she used to fantasize about her wedding day had it ended with the groom sleeping in a chair while she slept in the bed alone.

  “Oh. That was…considerate.”

  A little too considerate, to her way of thinking. She sensed he was confused by her lack of sincere appreciation, but she was even more confused about why he didn’t come to bed. Even if she’d been too tired to engage in marital relations, it would have been nice to snuggle.

  Maybe he simply doesn’t like you.

  She tried to push the niggling thought away, but it sat there, pecking away at her heart. It seemed impossible that she could have fallen so completely head over heels for Marshall while he found himself dissatisfied with her. But the voice kept eating away at her. Odd how it sounded so much like her mother.

  Mam had told her time and again that men didn’t like chatterboxes. She’d called them gossips, hens, biddies. Colleen had tried and tried to keep her jibber-jabber to a minimum, but she always forgot when she got excited. And she was always excited. There was just so much to see and do, and new people to meet, and fun adventures to set out on.

  For the first time since arriving in White Fox, she wondered if perhaps Marshall regretted ending up with her as his wife. The very thought almost snapped her heart in two. Peeking over the edge of the covers, she watched him dress for a moment, before rolling over and hiding her face. Tears burned her eyes, but she squeezed them tight, refusing to let them spill.

  What was done was done. They were married and they would have to get used to each other. Maybe one day he’d warm up to her, so in the meantime, she’d just have to focus very hard on not annoying him with idle chatter. She’d hold her tongue and be a proper wife, just as her mother had tried to teach her to be. It might take a few years, but she was determined to win him over.

  With a renewed sense of purpose, Colleen braced herself for the cold — both from the air and from Marshall — and whipped back the covers. From the corner of her eye, she saw him jump and spin away from her, keeping his back to her side of the cabin. A muscle in her jaw spasmed as she ground her teeth, but she said nothing.

  “What would you like for breakfast?” she asked after she’d fully dressed.

  “Whatever you want.”

  Under normal circumstances, she would have taken him at his word and whipped up her favorite meal — French toast. But since she’d just dedicated herself to catering to his every whim, she would have to press him.

  “No, really. What’s your favorite breakfast in the world?”

  “Well, I’m particularly fond of French toast,” he said, then quickly added, “but I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account.”

  She opened her mouth to exclaim over the coincidence, then remembered her vow and clamped it tight. This had to be fate. What were the odds they both shared the same favorite breakfast? How could he not see how perfect they could be together? Colleen stared into the blue depths of his gaze, wishing he’d take her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her. But he wouldn’t. In fact, he’d positioned himself almost as far away from her as possible. Sighing heavily, she nodded and set to work.

  They barely exchanged two words during the entire meal, though she’d felt him watching her more than once. She just bowed her head and ate in silence, hoping that the toll it took on her would be worth the effort in the long run.

  “I’d better get to the station,” he finally said, screeching his chair back and standing next to it, shifting from foot to foot…almost as if he was waiting for something.

  Colleen knew it wasn’t a goodbye kiss he wanted. Of course! Lunch.

  “I made a nice sandwich for your lunch from the part of the steak I didn’t eat last night. Let me fetch it for you.”

  When she handed it to him, he mumbled his thanks. He’d already shrugged into his red serge coat and looked so handsome that Colleen’s fingers twitched from her desire to run them down the bold brass buttons. She managed to control herself, but just barely.

  For the briefest flash, she almost thought he was going to reach for her to kiss her goodbye, but then a loud knock sounded on the door behind them. They both nearly jumped out of their skin. Marshall was first to recover, and he swung the door open wide.

  “Good morning, dear,” Miss Hazel said. “I thought I’d stop in for a little visit to see how darling Colleen is doing.”

  “Good morning,” Marshall said, touching the brim of his hat. “And I’m off to work.”

  “So I see,” Hazel said as he brushed past her and all but ran from the house.

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Colleen slumped into her chair in front of the fire and dropped her head into her hands.

  “Oh dear.” Miss Hazel clucked and patted Colleen’s shoulder, then pulled Marshall’s rocking chair closer. “Tell me all about it.”

  As if a dam broke, Colleen launched into all her fears and worries, laying it all out for Miss Hazel. For her part, Hazel nodded sagely, but remained quiet through the telling — not that she had much of a choice. Colleen barely took a breath for several minutes.

  “I think he’s regretting his decision, Miss Hazel. I hate to say it, but my Mam was right about my jabbermouth. He hates it and he probably hates me!”

  She burst into tears, finally releasing the tension that had built inside her all morning. Miss Hazel waited for the storm to pass before finally speaking.

  “Colleen, you know I would never speak ill of your fine mother, so I will just say…poppycock! If all men disliked gabby ladies, my dearly departed husband would never have married me, much less kept me around for so many wonderful, happy years.”

  Colleen wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled loudly. “Really?”

  “Of course! You spent the better part of two weeks with me. Do I strike you as a woman who has ever bothered to hide her light under a bushel? Why, Mr. Hughes told me on more than one occasion that my spirited nature was why he married me in the first place. Said he preferred interesting and challenging to proper and boring.”

  “Oh, if only that could be true of Marshall, but he’s given me no such clues,” Colleen said with a dispirited sigh. “I don’t know, Miss Hazel. You may have got this one wrong.”

  Just speaking the words brought a flood of tears again, but this squall barely had time to take hold before Miss Hazel shushed her.

  “Nonsense! I have yet to make a mismatch in my couples, and I don’t intend to start now.”

  “What about Barbara? She ran off before we even boarded the train. It was just dumb luck that Callie was there to take her place.”

  Miss Hazel waved a hand. “My dear, if you believe in luck, you’re not paying attention. The good Lord certainly had me worried when that silly girl changed her mind like that, but I now realize that had been His plan all along. Peter and Calliope are the very picture of wedded bliss…or will be, anyway. Just as you and Marshall will be very soon, I have no doubt of that.”

  “I certainly hope you’re right,” Colleen said, finally gaining her feet so she could make some tea for her guest.

  “Let me ask you one question. Do you like Marshall?”

  “Oh, very much! But that doesn’t mean he’ll ever be happy with me.”

  “Colleen, Marshall is a quiet, thoughtful man who isn’t prone to showing his emotions. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them, though. I know you don’t have much experience with the opposite sex, so let me assure you, your husband is absolutely dazzled by you. So much so that he might be temporarily blinded.”

 
“So how should I proceed?” Colleen asked as she handed Miss Hazel a cup of tea and returned to her seat.

  Hazel sipped before answering. “Sometimes we must lead our men to where we know they want to go, even if they don’t know it yet.”

  Colleen mulled this over as they drank in silence. The more she thought on it, the more it made sense. Instead of sitting back and waiting for him to realize how perfect they were for each other, she’d have to be proactive and show him. A smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth until she was grinning.

  “Miss Hazel, I like the way you think.”

  Hazel snorted. “So do I!”

  * * *

  A series of loud cracks rang out when Marshall stood and stretched his back. Four nights sleeping in the rocking chair had left him stiff and exhausted — not the best condition for a Mountie to be in — but he hadn’t worked up the nerve to join Colleen in bed yet. At least she was talking again, although he didn’t always love what she had to say.

  Her not-so-subtle hints that she would welcome his warmth next to her during the cold nights weren’t lost on him, but once they crossed that line, there would be no going back. He still had doubts about his ability to be a good husband to such a fine woman. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her.

  His brain insisted she would understand his hesitance — she was simply the kindest, sweetest woman ever born — but a dark, terrified part deep down inside wouldn’t allow him to lay bare his soul like that. Not yet. If she rejected what he showed her, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to trust anyone again. No, it was safer for everyone if they moved slowly and cautiously.

  “Mmmmorning,” Colleen called from the bed.

  He glanced over to return her greeting only to see her bare leg lying on top of the covers and a mischievous smile on her sleepy face. Averting his eyes, he moved toward the window. The sky should have been much brighter by this time of morning.

  “Hmm, looks like snow’s on its way,” he said, his breath fogging up the window. “It’s blowing pretty good too. Might even be a blizzard. I better get to the station and make sure the horses are put up.”