Nate always treated her with respect and friendliness, but no matter how hard she tried, he never picked up on h
er suggestions that he find a new mama for his children. Not a role she relished, but once they were married, she’d find a way to get them out from underfoot.
Desperate to have him act, she told him of her papa’s plan to send her to Europe, hoping he would ask her not to go. Instead, to her chagrin, he encouraged the trip. Since Nate was a true gentleman, she assumed—wrongly, it seemed—he intended to wait the full year of mourning before he took another wife.
Content with that thought, she’d gladly accepted her Papa’s offer, imagining all the fine dresses she could have made in Paris. It thrilled her to know the other girls in town would be positively green with envy. Then, finely dressed, she would return to Oregon City and become Nathan Hale’s wife.
She narrowed her eyes as she continued to observe them. He’s the man I want, and I will have him.
Torches provided flickering light around the makeshift dance floor. David Parker, lone fiddle player and barber store owner, had kept up the lively music for over an hour. As the last note of “Camptown Races” rang out, he wiped his forehead with a bandana.
After a gulp from the tall glass of beer sitting next to him, he shouted to the crowd. “Okay, ladies, it’s your turn. Pick the gentleman of your choice. I’m gonna play a nice slow one.”
Young ladies tittered as they eyed the menfolk lounging on the grass surrounding the dance floor. Several of them hopped up, anticipating an invitation to dance. David played, “Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair” as Angel stood next to Nate, slowly rocking back and forth, Julia-Rose asleep in her arms. She glanced at him, smiling. “You’re my choice.”
“I certainly hope so.” He placed his hand on her lower back to lead her to the dance floor, but before they took a step, Lucy walked up. She grabbed his arm possessively and tugged. “Ladies choice, Nate.” She smirked at an open-mouthed Angel and pulled him onto the dance floor.
Furious, and without hesitation, Angel strode up to the couple. She regarded Lucy with narrowed eyes and held the sleeping Julia-Rose out to Nate. She flashed the redhead a bright smile. “Julia-Rose loves dancing with her papa.”
Nate’s eyes glinted with mirth as he quickly took the baby in his one arm, and putting his other arm around Lucy’s shoulder, attempted to dance. The position rendered it impossible for them to get close with Julia-Rose in between. Angel sauntered back to her place, hips swaying, and looked across to Mrs. Darby. The older woman winked.
Midway through the dance, Julia-Rose awoke and let out a loud cry. Angel covered her mouth with her hand and laughed as Lucy jumped back and crashed into another couple. The baby wiggled and fussed. Lucy’s face flushed, and she said something to Nate before she left him on the dance floor.
Angel joined him, and took Julia-Rose from his arms. Nate wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter and finished the dance.
As she snuggled into his embrace, her gaze slid to a fuming Lucy. Angel shivered at the cold, hateful eyes that glared back at her. She pulled Nate closer and shut her eyes.
Chapter 12
Nate snapped the last piece of Mr. Miller’s Baker rifle together and set it on the counter. His thoughts drifted to last night. He chuckled to recall the determined look on his wife’s face as she handed Julia-Rose to him on the dance floor. Lucy had been livid, and a thwarted Lucy was not pleasant thing to behold. But holding Angel’s warm, soft body against his, her scent of lemons drifting to his nose, with the baby cuddled between them as they finished the dance, had been a great way to end the night.
They’d returned to the wagon where the four boys slept in the back, all curled together like a litter of puppies. Sticky fingers and dirty faces attested to their good time. Once they arrived home, he put Julia-Rose in her crib, and Angel led the boys to their beds, sticky hands and all. Within minutes the two of them met in the bedroom, stripped their clothes off, and collapsed into bed. He turned to her, and she went eagerly into his arms. She couldn’t cook worth a darn. Ah, but she had other talents.
The next day, the bell over the shop door jingled, and Lucy Benson sailed in. Nate groaned to himself as she entered.
“Mornin’, Nate.”
“Mornin’, Lucy,” Nate said without looking up. “What can I do for you?”
She snapped her parasol closed. “Do I have to have a reason to visit a friend?”
“I would say so, if the friend is working.” He finally looked up, watching her carefully.
“Can’t you take a minute out of your day to visit?” She pouted. “I wanted to apologize for slapping you yesterday. I was so surprised to find you married! And to that woman. So unrefined. What were you thinking?”
Nate wiped his hands on the cloth next to his work, and sat back. “I’m not going to discuss my wife with you. But I guess I can spare a minute or so to visit. Did you enjoy your trip to Europe?”
Lucy prattled on for a good ten minutes, going on about all the new wardrobe items she acquired, all the men who were ‘fresh’ with her, and how sophisticated she found Europe to be compared to Oregon City.
“Sounds like you had a good time,” he said when she finally took a breath.
“Yes, I did. But, Nate,” she offered another pout, “I have to be honest and tell you again how upset I was to discover you’d married in my absence.” Lucy daintily dabbed her eyes with the edge of her lace handkerchief.
“It was time.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Lucy took a huge breath, pushing her bosom out. “I’ve heard Angel-is that her name?-is a mail order bride.” She shivered.
“Yes, I met my wife through the Bride Agency.” He could have bit the words back. Continuing this conversation was not a good idea.