RNWMP_Bride for Curtis Read online

  Curtis was worried about her and he’d only just met her that morning. He was about to say so when she peered out the back window and said, “Oh!”

  “What?”

  “Whose garden is that?”

  He joined her, standing so close her warmth seeped through his shirt and set his own skin ablaze. He tried his hardest to focus on the garden, but his eyes naturally wanted to drop down to gaze at her fine porcelain features, her dark red hair, those eyes that were greener than anything in the garden. When she turned them on him, he forgot to breathe. For all her odd habits, she really was the loveliest creature he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

  “Curtis?” Her voice was a whisper on the wind.

  “Hmm?”

  He brushed a pesky stray lock of hair away from her slightly damp cheek, then the back of his finger skimmed down her jawline. She sucked in a breath and her berry pink lips parted slightly. All he’d have to do is lean down and give her a proper kiss, the one he’d wanted to give her at their wedding, but was too self-conscious to in front of the others.

  “W-whose garden?” she whispered as she swayed on her feet.

  She caught herself by letting her fingers flutter against his side, not quite ready to touch him in such an intimate manner, but clearly wanting to. That’s all he needed. Just knowing she was attracted to him, even though he was a terrible housekeeper, filled him with such happiness, he surprised himself. That was enough for now. The rest would come eventually.

  Clearing his throat, he turned his full attention to the big garden out back. “That’s poor ol’ Sutter’s garden. He lived in that little shack just beyond it, see?”

  Caitlyn dragged her gaze away from his face and took a moment to take in the view. “Oh, I thought that was a gardening shed.”

  “Sorta was,” he said with a chuckle. “If you thought this place was dirty, I wouldn’t recommend stepping foot in Sutter’s shack.”

  She smirked up at him. “As long as I don’t have to live in it, I’m sure I’ll be fine. What happened to him?”

  “Passed away about a month ago. He was a good man, old as the hills. He loved to putter in that garden.”

  “I’m sorry your friend died,” she said, but the sparkle in her eyes belied her excitement. “Is anyone taking care of it?”

  Curtis shook his head and picked up his mop again. This would be his last pass, he didn’t care what kind of funny look she gave him.

  “Don’t know. No one’s moved in to his place, and with all the much nicer homes available in town, I don’t see why anyone would.”

  She was out the door before he finished his sentence and didn’t come back until he’d moved all the furniture back in place, started a fire and made his own dinner with his beloved moose meat. When she finally strolled in, loaded down with all sorts of strange-looking vegetables, they stared at each other for a moment.

  “Would you like—“ she started as she headed for the kitchen, but Curtis cut her off.

  “Already ate.”

  “Oh.”

  She sounded disappointed, but he’d thought she’d have appreciated the fact he didn’t make her cook meat. Seemed as if he couldn’t do much of anything right.

  “In fact, it’s getting pretty late and I have an early morning since George gave us the day off to spend with our new wives.”

  “It’s not even dark yet,” she countered, glancing out the window at the bright light streaming in. “How early do you get up?”

  “Caitlyn, it’s after nine.”

  “What? No, that can’t be!”

  “Up this way, night won’t fall till well after eleven, and even then the darkness will only be murky until about three.”

  “Oh,” she said again, her eyes darting toward the bedroom door.

  Curtis smiled and pulled a wool blanket from the back of the love seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep out here for now. Give you some time to adjust. Sound good?”

  She paused before spinning on her heel and heading for the kitchen. “If that’s what you want.”

  3

  The sun’s light was clear and sharp so far north. It had a different quality that was hard to describe, but it was there nonetheless. Thinner was the best Caitlyn could come up with as she weeded Sutter’s garden. She’d spent a lot of time there over the previous few days since her wedding day, pruning the overgrown plants, clearing the rows of weeds, fertilizing and so on. The place had become a bit of a haven for her when she became frustrated with Curtis, which was far too often for newlyweds.

  She’d hoped her first day in Flying Squirrel would give her new husband a hint that she wasn’t his servant, but apparently hints were lost on him. Maybe he can’t hear them through all the gum-cracking he does, she thought as she tugged one particularly long weed. Regardless, he hadn’t so much as cleared his own dinner dishes since that first day, much less change his old habits of tracking mud into the house.

  Of course it didn’t help that he hadn’t made a single move to make their marriage complete. She’d imagined they’d be waking up in each other’s arms by that time, yet he hadn’t said a word about it since that first night. Not that she wanted to — there was too much tension between them for her to be comfortable with such intimacy.

  Brushing the dirt off her apron as she stood, Caitlyn picked up her basket — filled to the brim with green beans, early carrots, lettuce, radishes and a big cabbage — and headed back to the house. She wanted to make a nice soup for dinner they both could enjoy. She’d already baked two loaves of bread that morning, and later she’d somehow muster the courage to cut up some meat for Curtis’s bowl.

  “Caitlyn!”

  Miss Hazel waved from the front corner of the house, then Violet and Adele peeked around and waved too. Hugging each in turn, she invited them inside. As they settled around the table, talking over each other in their excitement, Caitlyn sliced off several pieces of fresh bread, cut up some vegetables and laid them next to a hunk of goat cheese she’d got from a local farmer. In the middle of the table sat her dying wedding bouquet.

  “Oh my, this looks scrumptious,” Miss Hazel exclaimed, beaming at her former student. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re tempting me to become a vegetarian too.”

  Caitlyn did her best to keep any hint of bitterness out of her voice. “I wish Curtis thought the same way.”

  “Things are still tense between you?” Adele asked, pouring tea for everyone.

  Caitlyn slumped into her chair and sighed. She hadn’t wanted to trouble the others with her problems, but she had no one else to talk to. If only Colleen were there! Sisters were the best for listening to one’s difficulties.

  “Yes. He—“ her voice hitched in her throat.

  Miss Hazel patted her hand gently. “Go on, dear.”

  The touch comforted her enough to find her voice again. “He doesn’t seem to like me much.”

  “Nonsense!” Violet said, waving a hand at her. “What’s not to like?”

  “That I’m a vegetarian and can’t stand the thought of touching meat, for one. Two, I don’t appreciate being treated like a servant.”

  “What?” Miss Hazel said, looking alarmed. “Does he…”

  She let the implication float between them, asking the unaskable. It was Caitlyn’s turn to give the woman a comforting hand pat.

  “No, he’s never behaved aggressively toward me, but he seems to expect me to pick up after him, even when it would be just as easy for him to do it himself.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Hazel said, laughing. “Don’t worry, dear, some men need more training than others.”

  Caitlyn smeared some cheese on the bread and took a bite, too distracted to notice how delicious it was. “I don’t know. All he talks about is how wonderful his mother is, how she keeps a perfect house, and how her life wouldn’t be complete without someone to care for.”

  “She sounds very nice,” Violet offered.

  “I’m sure she is, but it’s clear he expe
cts me to follow in her footsteps. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

  Hazel chuckled. “I’m afraid there’s no competing with a man’s mother. All you can do is hold your own and hope he’s not too much of a mama’s boy to realize he didn’t really want to marry his mother in the first place.”

  The ladies snickered at the very idea.

  “I could have a chat with him, if you like,” Miss Hazel offered.

  Nothing sounded more horrifying to Caitlyn. “Oh, no! Thank you, Miss Hazel, but this is my problem and I need to figure it out for myself.”

  Hazel smiled. “Good for you, dear. I’ve always admired your independent nature.”

  “I might not be as independent as I always thought.”

  “Why do you say that?” Violet asked.

  Caitlyn sighed. “With fourteen brothers and sisters, I grew up dreaming of the day when I would be free of the chaos and craziness. I never had a moment’s peace as there was always someone crying, screaming, shouting, singing. Think of something noisy and chances are good I heard it at least once a day for my entire life.”

  “My family wasn’t large, but I remember how I could never get a lick of privacy,” Hazel said.

  “Exactly. So when I finally saved up enough to move out — finally! — I thought I’d be so happy every day that I’d float as high as a zeppelin.”

  She shook her head and sighed heavily. She’d never admitted any of this to anyone.

  “But you weren’t?” Adele asked. “Why not? It was your dream come true.”

  “I know, but my flat was just so…silent. Even with two flatmates, I always sort of felt I was in a museum or a church where I had to whisper all the time. Don’t get me wrong, my friends were lovely women, but they were quiet and kept to themselves, for the most part.”

  Miss Hazel narrowed shrewd eyes at her. “And?”

  Heat rushed into Caitlyn’s cheeks. There was something else, something she never suspected would be the case. Something her family would never allow her to forget, if they ever found out.

  She mumbled her answer so quietly no one heard her.

  “What was that, dear?”

  “Huh?”

  “Pardon?”

  With a grimace, she looked each of them in the eye. “I was lonely.”

  Instead of laughing at her, their expressions softened with understanding. Adele reached out and took one hand, while Hazel patted the other, as she’d done before.

  “I can only imagine,” Violet said. “That must have been quite a shock.”

  “As much as they drove me crazy, I missed all the sights and sounds — and with seven brothers, the smells — of such a large family. But I especially missed my older sisters.”

  Miss Hazel tsked and squeezed her hand. “Oh, Caitlyn.”

  “After Molly ran off, Colleen and I grew closer than ever. We’d shared a bed almost since I was born, so when she left Ottawa, I was suddenly thrust into the position of eldest sibling. All the younger kids came to me for all sorts of silly problems, mostly because Mam and Da had far more important things to think about, such as putting food on the table for so many mouths.”

  “Understandable,” Hazel said.

  “Yes, but I still couldn’t wait to be on my own. So I scrimped and saved and moved out. Little did I know, after just a few days, I’d be longing to move back home again. I’m sure part of that was simply the newness of my situation, but more than anything, I missed being part of such a big family. My brothers and sisters are annoying and silly and funny and frustrating, and I love each one with all my heart. And…I miss them.”

  “Of course you do!” Violet said, tears misting her eyes.

  “When I lost my job, I was almost relieved. I’d get to move home! I can’t believe I’m saying that, but with hindsight, I know it’s the truth. I didn’t see it then, though. So when my parents refused to let me return, I pushed those feelings down inside me and went to see you, Miss Hazel.”

  Hazel looked as if she might cry too. She sniffed and gave Caitlyn a smile.

  Caitlyn picked at the crust of her bread, rolling the bits into tiny balls and dropping them on her plate. It wasn’t seemly for a young woman to play with her food, but she was among friends. No, more than friends. These women were her sisters now.

  “Now I’m here, married to a man who doesn’t really like me very much and I’ve never felt lonelier.”

  The ladies rushed around the table and gathered her in their arms, reminding her she always had them and so on. She patted each in turn and waited till they sat back down to continue.

  “I love you all, I really do, but you’re all adjusting to your new lives as much as I am. We lean on each other as much as we can, but at some point, I’m going to have to figure this out for myself. One way or another.”

  “What do you mean she doesn’t eat meat?”

  George’s face contorted as if Curtis had just told him a man did indeed live in the moon and he made all the world’s cheese. He leaned back in his chair inside the Flying Squirrel Mountie station and gave Curtis a suspicious scowl.

  “Just what I said. She calls herself a vegetarian.”

  “What do you eat then? You love meat!” Richard said.

  Curtis shook his head. He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of a person who didn’t eat meat, but he was trying to make peace with it. Sort of.

  “I’m not giving up my meat, I can tell you that much. But truth be told, she’s been good about making sure I don’t go without. She’s actually quite a good cook. She makes meals without meat, then adds it to my bowl only.”

  “Well, that’s something,” Richard said, visibly relieved.

  “I still don’t understand,” Liam said. “No meat. None. Not even chicken?”

  “Nope, not that either. Sometimes fish on Fridays, but I guess that’s it.”

  “But…why?”

  Curtis gave Liam a half-shrug. “No idea. Never thought to ask.”

  George leveled one of his patented fatherly looks at Curtis. “Maybe you should. Ladies like it when their men show interest in things that are important to them.”

  Liam sighed. “He’s talking about wooing her. Adele says that even though we’re married, I still have to woo her. I got married so I wouldn’t have to woo!”

  “I’m not talking about wooing,” George corrected. “I’m talking about being a good and attentive husband. You wanted to be a husband, didn’t you, Curtis?”

  “Yes, but—“

  “But nothing. If you’re not paying attention to your wife’s needs, I’m not sure you deserve her.”

  Curtis mumbled a retort he hadn’t really meant for George to hear.

  “What was that, Constable Lange?”

  How did such an old man have such excellent hearing? The sparkle in George’s eye meant he wasn’t really angry, but Curtis had no option but to answer.

  “I said, my mother didn’t have such needs.”

  George stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. It took a full minute for his glee to subside, and he finally caught his breath with tears in his eyes.

  “Oh, my boy, if you really think that, you’re as daft as my pa’s old donkey!”

  That brought on another fit of hilarity, which the other men joined in on. As if their fresh marriages were perfect! It dawned on Curtis that maybe they were. Or at least more perfect than his.

  “No, I swear it,” Curtis objected, frustrated that they were mocking him so mercilessly. “Her entire life was devoted to raising me and my brothers. She never wanted anything more. I swear it!”

  George used his handkerchief to wipe the tears from his eyes and he finally calmed down. When he did, he sauntered over to where Curtis sat and gripped his shoulder firmly.

  “Have you ever asked her?”

  The question lingered in the air. Why would he have? She’d shown him every day by being the best mother in the world. Yet as sure as he was, a thread of doubt wound its way through his brain. He was
the youngest of three boys, and his parents had been married a long time before he’d come along. What had happened in the decades which had come before him? As strange as it seemed in that moment, he’d never given it a thought before.

  He’d been meaning to write his parents with the news of his marriage. Might as well settle the argument while he was at it.

  “I’ll do it right now,” he said, pulling a fresh sheet of writing paper from his drawer. “But it’s a waste of time. I know what her answer will be.”

  George gave his shoulder a squeeze and a pat. “We shall see.”

  He posted the letter at Dandy’s Mercantile on his way home that afternoon. When Charlie Dandy had held his hand out for the envelope though, Curtis had the hardest time handing it over. It was almost as if he didn’t really want to know the answer to his query. But he was a brave Mountie, and nothing as trivial as a simple letter could bring him down.

  Still, on the walk home, he couldn’t help remembering George’s comment about being an attentive husband. Worse, he couldn’t help realizing he was failing at that miserably. Aside from the first day, when Caitlyn had pressed him into doing woman’s work, he hadn’t done much to show his appreciation for her. Spotting a patch of wildflowers growing just off the road, he picked a big bunch of them and whistled a happy tune the rest of the way. If that didn’t do the trick, nothing would.

  The smell of something savory and mouthwatering hit him like a freight train the moment he opened the door. He stopped and breathed it in. Fresh bread, some kind of savory stew and, if his nose wasn’t mistaken, berry pie.

  “Something smells delicious,” he said, walking into the kitchen and thrusting the flowers at Caitlyn.

  She blinked in surprise, then set down the pan and plate she was holding and wiped her hands on her apron before taking the flowers. She buried her nose in them and sniffed deeply, smiling up at him.

  “Thank you for the flowers. The ones you gave me on our wedding day are almost dead.”

  She crossed over to the table and carefully replaced the old bouquet with the new bundle. Stepping back, she looked at them, readjusted a few and nodded. He wasn’t sure what she’d fiddled with — they looked exactly the same as before — but whatever made her happy.