The First Bride Page 2

  Burton grunted, his lip curling.

  “You’re not the type of person who can get attention from anyone, much less a man.” He narrowed his eyes. “It is a man, isn’t it?”

  Mary flushed and looked away. She just wanted to read her letter.

  “That’s none of your business,” she muttered, and then drew in her breath as she realized just what she had said.

  At the sound of the chair scraping back she braced herself.

  He stormed around the table, snatched the letter from her hands, and slapped her hard. Mary rocked sideways, almost falling out of her chair. She grabbed onto the oak table, trying not to cry at the stinging in her cheek.

  “Hey!”

  Burton snarled and jabbed a finger in her face.

  “I am your father, Mary,” he hissed. “You don’t speak to me like that.”

  He straightened up and began to read the now crumpled letter.

  Mary clenched her fists in her lap and waited. Fighting for the letter wouldn’t do any good; she would get beaten again. But the chances were that once he had read what she and Gareth had been discussing, he would beat her anyway. She was cheaper than a servant and he had no idea what to do around the house, or of how to make a living. If she was gone, he was on his own.

  Burton barked out a harsh laugh.

  “Oh, my goodness, is he serious? He’s actually proposing to you?”

  Mary sat up, stunned.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t get that far, did you?” He waved the letter at her but just out of reach. “This man has proposed marriage to you. Who is he? Some little brat who works on the ranch?”

  “He’s a missionary, Father.”

  “That’s even worse.” Burton shook his head. “What happened to asking the father first?”

  Mary snorted. She stood and tried to keep her composure.

  “You wouldn’t have agreed to a marriage from anyone anyway.” She pointed out. “Given half a chance, I’d be your slave until I’m old and gray.”

  “You need to watch your mouth, young lady.”

  “I’m twenty-three, Father! You’ve practically kept me a prisoner in this house.” Mary moved so she had the table between them. Instinct told her she shouldn’t stay so close to her father; he looked like he would be going into another one of his rages. “I need to get out of here and I will, whether you like it or not. I’m your daughter, not a servant.”

  His face was going redder and redder. It looked like he was about to explode. His fuse was considerably shorter than it had been last year.

  “You are an unmarried woman and you are under my control until you marry.”

  “Which would never happen if you keep me home like this!” Mary shot back.

  With a sudden streak of courage, she hurried around the table and snatched the letter from his’s hand. Then she darted away toward the back door.

  Burton snarled and slammed his fist on the table.

  “We’re not done, Mary! Get back here!”

  “We are done, Father.” Mary flung open the door. “And if you lay a hand on me again, I’ll let the sheriff know. He’s dying to get his hands on you and he’s only waiting for me to give him a reason.”

  That was a bluff but Mary could tell by the way the young sheriff kept looking at her father whenever he was out of the house. The man clearly wanted an excuse to put Burton in the slammer but Andrew Burton was very good at toeing the line... at least when people were watching.

  With his curses still ringing in her ears, Mary hurried out into the garden. It wasn’t much but it was full of bushes and shady in the mid-Spring sun. They also shared it with the family next door. Mary kept their side as nice as she could but there was no money to buy seed. The neighbor’s side was much nicer.

  Trudging through the bushes, Mary came out into the neighbor’s garden. A girl her age was sitting on a blanket, an open book in her hands. She looked up and blinked at Mary as she appeared, brushing her ash-blonde hair out of her eyes.

  “Mary?”

  “Amy.” Then Mary realized she could still clearly hear her father’s curses. She groaned. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Amy Palmer closed her book and put it aside. “Do you need an escape?”

  “For a while, if that’s okay.”

  Amy smiled and patted the blanket. She and Mary had been friends since they were little girls. And she was one of the very few people Mary had regular contact with. Her pa grumbled about Mary seeing Amy too much but was not going to give that up if she could help it.

  Mary settled down beside her friend. She was aware that her blonde hair had come out of its bun and began to remove the hair grips, dropping them into her lap.

  “He’s hitting the bottle a lot more now,” she said sadly as she shook her hair out and began to twist it up again. “I can’t take much more of it. I need to get out of here, Amy. And I was given a chance just now but Father knows about it.”

  Amy raised her eyebrows.

  “You mean something’s come out of those letters with this missionary man?”

  “Gareth, yes.” Mary found herself smiling as she began to dig the hair grips back into her bun, pinning it in place. “He’s incredibly sweet. Bar you and Father, he’s just about the only human contact I have. And now he’s offered me marriage.”

  Amy’s eyes widened. Then she squealed and hugged Mary, almost knocking them over.

  “Careful! My grips are all over the grass!”

  “Sorry.” Amy helped her to gather them. “I wondered when that would happen. From what you were saying about him, he sounds perfect for you.”

  “It’s not a loving match, Amy. We’re just helping each other out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He knows I need to get out of here and I know his family are pressuring him into marriage. We get what we want out of this marriage.”

  Mary knew what she would be getting into. She liked Gareth and even if they didn’t love each other now, she hoped it would happen later on. But being friends with her husband would certainly help make the future years bearable.

  “If you’re sure, Mary?” Amy tilted her head to the side, regarding her friend thoughtfully. “I don’t want you to get into something awful that you can’t get out of.”

  “What can be more awful than living with my father?” Mary pointed out. “And he’s a missionary. They’re not violent people.”

  “You never know, do you? He could be an ax murderer, for all you know.”

  Mary snorted.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not going to hurt me.” She shuddered. “Not like Father will when I get back inside.”

  Amy grunted.

  “I suppose not. So, where does this Gareth live?”

  “Right here in town. He’s at the mission station.” Mary scanned the letter and was then glad she had got it back off her father. “He’s written that if I want to get married I need to meet him at midday on Sunday. That’s when we get married and we’ll leave the next day.”

  “Whoa.” Amy whistled. “That’s a bit fast.”

  “Well, we need to be married if I’m going with them.”

  It was fast but Mary was eager to have any way to get out of here. She didn’t want to stay with her father one moment longer. If she didn’t keep on her toes, she could end up dropping dead just like her mother had. Being worked to death wasn’t the life she wanted to have. Missionary work might not be for her, either – Mary had given up on God a long time ago – but it was better than her life right now.

  “Do you think you can get out, that you can escape him?” Amy’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “Definitely. Father drinks much more on a Saturday night and doesn’t wake up until he smells the Sunday dinner when it’s ready at one. I should be fine.”

  “I hope so.” Amy squeezed Mary’s hands. “If you need anything, let me know.”

  Mary would. She had a feeling she would need Am
y more than she expected soon.

  3

  Mary wasn’t quite sure what to expect of Gareth Stanier. She hadn’t seen a daguerreotype or drawing of him, and just a general description. Gareth was certainly not happy with the fact that his hair was red. He thought Mary would be horrified, only she had much more to worry about than that. She surmised it would make it easier to spot him in a crowd.

  Her stomach all a flutter she arrived at the church clutching her suitcase full of her meager belongings, to find Gareth already there waiting by the doors. At that moment panic set in and she froze on the spot. No matter how much she thought she was prepared Mary realized she hadn’t been ready for this at all.

  He stepped forward with a slight smile and Mary’s jaw dropped open.

  Gareth was tall, broad-shouldered and slim with auburn, not red, hair brushed back from his wide forehead. His skin was a little red from the sun but he had lovely brown eyes, a slight quirk to his mouth and when he reddened even more the moment he looked at her, Mary found herself forgetting how to walk.

  He was handsome. Gareth had been saying he wasn’t much to look at but Mary severely disagreed. Maybe having a husband who was very good-looking would make this all a little more bearable.

  Clearly, Gareth was just as affected by her. Even after writing to her for weeks, he was stumbling over his words outside the church, clumsily kissing her cheek. Mary found it sweet and hadn’t been able to stop himself from hugging him. There was something about Gareth that was endearing. She liked him already.

  Being married to him was going to be easier than she thought.

  The ceremony was short and unromantic but Mary didn’t care. Gareth had given her a chance to get away from her father, who she had left snoring on the couch as she tiptoed out of the house. Gareth knew what he was getting out of the marriage and Mary knew he was looking for a wife to stop his parents pressuring him into marriage. He wanted to be in charge, not them.

  This wasn’t a love match. Mary wasn’t about to complain over the unromantic part of it when it wasn’t anything to do with love, for her it was survival.

  Once the pastor had finished the ceremony and congratulated them, Gareth took Mary away and to the mission station. He had explained they were leaving on Monday so the marriage needed to happen before they left. Then they would be traveling to San Francisco, right across to the other side of the country.

  Mary had been shocked at that news but soon was filled with excitement. She had never left the town before; this was something new and Mary liked trying something new.

  From the way Gareth had been talking, he was more eager about it than he made himself out to be.

  They were at the mission station when Mary felt her stomach knot up. She stopped suddenly, causing Gareth to get hauled back when her hand refused to let go. He turned and frowned at her.

  “Mary? What’s wrong?” He touched her jaw. “Are you all right?”

  “I…” Mary pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m getting nervous now. My stomach’s twisting like mad.”

  Gareth sighed.

  “So’s mine. But we can’t be nervous now. We’ve made our bed and now we need to lie in it.”

  “You mean lie on the pallet.” Mary grunted. “I don’t think we’re going to see a proper bed for weeks.”

  Gareth’s mouth twitched. He did have a very nice smile.

  “You can split hairs later.” Hesitating, he kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.”

  Mary didn’t doubt that. Not at all. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and squeezed his hand.

  “I’m ready.”

  Tucking her close to his side, Gareth led her inside. They entered a wide, dusty courtyard that seemed to have the bare essentials but not much else bar a well in the middle. Mary had never been inside the mission station before and hadn’t expected it to be so sparse. It was even emptier than her house.

  A tall, hulking man with flaming red hair that was going silver at the temples came out of a building to their left. He glanced at them and then did a double-take when he saw Gareth.

  Mary felt Gareth stiffen beside him as the older man approached them. This had to be his father; there were far too many similarities between them for him to be otherwise.

  “Gareth! I was beginning to wonder where you were.” Paul clapped Gareth on the shoulder. “You said you wouldn’t be long and that was two hours ago.”

  “Sorry, Father. I was dealing with something important.” Gareth squeezed Mary’s hand as he turned to her. “I went to meet Mary.”

  “Mary?” Paul blinked and turned his dark eyes onto Mary. “Is this Mary?”

  “Yes, Father. Mary, this is my father, Paul Stanier.” Gareth took a deep breath. “Mary’s my wife now.”

  This wasn’t how Mary thought it would happen. She had been bracing herself for a fit of rage from the parents. Instead, Stanier looked like he had been hit over the head, his expression dazed. Then he shook himself and stared at his son.

  “You went out to get married? Why didn’t you say anything? Your mother and I would have wanted to be there.”

  “Father, I was already nervous enough.” Gareth tugged Mary to his side and put an arm around her.

  Mary could feel him trembling.

  “I wanted to deal with this on my own.”

  Was he scared of his father? Mary put her suitcase down and put an arm around his waist. That seemed to stop the shaking and she saw Gareth give her a small smile.

  Paul shook himself and blinked several times.

  “Well, this is a surprise. I’m sure your mother will have a few extra words to say to you about this, Gareth.” He turned to Mary and gave her a brisk nod. “Welcome to the family, Mary.”

  “Thank you.” Mary bit her lip and glanced up at Gareth. “I know this isn’t the best way to meet you but I didn’t mean any insult, Mr. Stanier. It just… happened.”

  “I’ll say it just happened,” Paul grunted. “Gareth’s not been able to speak to a woman in ten years.”

  “I’ve been working at it,” Gareth protested.

  Mary smiled.

  “He doesn’t have any problems talking to me, Mr. Stanier.”

  Paul blinked. Then he smiled, the expression in his eyes warming. He was a handsome man. Mary could see where Gareth got his looks from.

  “That I do find surprising more than anything. And it’s Paul now. Mr. Stanier sounds far too old for me.”

  “You are old,” Gareth quipped.

  Mary couldn’t help herself, she burst out laughing as Paul took a step towards Gareth. Gareth darted to the right and out of his father’s reach. He was laughing and Mary saw his whole face light up. That had her blushing and looking away. Whoa. How had he managed to hide all of this from her?

  “Stop being cheeky, Gareth,” Paul scolded. “You’re too old for that. Go and get your things sorted. And find your mother. I’m not going to be the one telling her about this.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Gareth gave him a low bow and wandered off. Mary wondered where the shy, nervous wreck had gone. It was like something had flipped inside him and she was getting dizzy trying to keep up.

  “Is he always like that?”

  Paul shook his head.

  “Oddly enough, no. I hadn’t seen him like that since before he became an adult. It’s like he left as one person and came back as someone else.”

  At least it wasn’t just Mary thinking that Gareth had gone through a sudden change in the blink of an eye. She could see the nerves bubbling away but he appeared to be more relaxed, as if there was something off his shoulders. A marriage looming over his head would do that.

  “He told me in his letters that he was awkward around people, particularly with women.”

  “He is.” Paul arched an eyebrow at her. “Clearly not with you, though. I don’t know what magic you worked on him but keep it going, Mary.”

  Mary blushed. She had no idea what she had done but clearly it was d
oing the trick. This marriage might not be as tough as she thought it was going to be.

  4

  Mary took back what she said about thinking marriage wouldn’t be as tough as she thought. It was tough, extremely so. If anything, she and Gareth seemed to forget they were husband and wife. As soon as the sun rose the day after their wedding, their belongings were packed into several wagons and they set off onto one of the many trails that headed towards California.

  Gareth was back to the shy, reserved man Mary had met the day before. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. The man went back and forth on his emotions so much she didn’t know what was going on.

  However, they barely got any time to get to know each other more. They were crammed into a wagon with Gareth’s brother, Ben, and his wife, Carolyn, plus their daughter, Carly. They were nice people and Mary didn’t have anything against them but it wasn’t easy trying to sit with Gareth and simply talk. There was always something to be done and Gareth was concentrating on his work instead of on his wife. He sometimes forgot she was there.

  Mary didn’t mind too much – at first it was exciting but strange to answer to a different name, she had to keep reminding herself she was now a married woman – but she did get frustrated when Gareth spoke to her like she wasn’t his wife but more like a laborer. When the camp was being set each night he would often just hand out orders without thinking.

  The tiredness was also difficult. She was used to her normal tasks but this was hours and hours on the trail. Sometimes riding, sometimes walking, and sometimes pushing the wagons as the oxen struggled to pull them over difficult terrain. Even the riding was bone-jarring and exhausting but still she was happy. It was so much more than she ever imagined and she had a family who, though tired and busy, treated her well.

  As the days, and then the weeks, went on, Mary found Gareth softening up more around her. It was as if he remembered that he had another priority and set aside time when it was just the two of them. Mary found he was very educated and he could talk on a wide range of subjects. It was refreshing to talk to him face-to-face. To talk to anyone about something more meaningful than where the next bottle was coming from was a joy. For that was what it was like with her father.