Mail Order Bride: Winter (Bride For All Seasons 4)

Ensuring that their orders would be followed went no more smoothly for either Letitia or Molly.

“She’s gotten enough rest for five pregnant women,” Molly reported indignantly to Ben, when her few hours of service had dragged to an end, “and we sisters are returning her to you with a great sigh of relief.”

Ben swooped across the kitchen floor to indulge in a hearty kiss mixed with reprimand. “Why, Cam, have you been misbehavin’ yourself?”

“Oh, you just know she has! And you know how she is. First to help out in any emergency, for anyone anywhere, and last to take care of herself. It’s like dealing with a child.” Still miffed by the irritation and begrudging moods with which she had had to cope, Molly was pulling on her own heavy wrap, hat, scarf, and gloves. “Kindly don’t call upon me again unless your wife is unable to talk!”

Chuckling, Ben turned back to the door. “Wait a minute, Molly, and I’ll take you home. It’s colder’n a witch’s—uh—nose out there, and you’ll appreciate a ride in the surrey. Be back shortly, darlin’.”

“Fine. And you’ll get fried eggs and sausage for your supper, so don’t expect anything posh

Oh, and thanks for being here today, Molly.”

It was said ungraciously, in a way entirely unlike the usual congenial Camellia. While Molly understood, the tone couldn’t help putting her back up.

“I wish you well of her,” she addressed her brother-in-law, with a look of umbrage. “And one can only hope she’ll return to being her sunny self once that baby gets here.”

“My sunny self!” Camellia repeated hotly. “You just wait until you find you’re this way, Molly Burton, with everything all misshapen, when even your shoes don’t fit properly, and you’re unable to get around easily, and p-p-p-people make—f-f-f-fun of you—!”

Alarmed, Ben shared a glance with Molly (whose expression read: “See what I mean?”), and then he paused to provide some extra cuddling and pampering, by way of hugs, kisses, and tenderness. He wasn’t sure what else he could do, in her extremity, but this inspired action on his part at least seemed to soothe her. “Cam, honey—” he began helplessly.

Upon which, after a while, she gave a shaky flutter of laughter and waved him away. “Oh, don’t mind me, Ben. I’m just cranky and out of sorts. And I’m so sorry you’ve gotten stuck with such a nasty-tempered wife. Talk about having to tame the shrew! You go on now, take Molly home, and we’ll talk when you return.”

So, just the immediate family gathered at the Forrester house for the Yuletide, to partake in a quiet supper to which everyone contributed this dish or that, and to exchange a few small gifts.

After the holidays had melted away, winter weather blew in with a vengeance. Not as far as a vast accumulation of snow, certainly; not in the deep south. But Turnabouters suffered colder than average temperatures, with enough of the dampness and dark bleak skies to keep everyone inside who could afford to stay inside.

Luckily Ben, as well as all those close to him, had plenty of cut and chopped wood and kindling in reserve for the fires which burned almost non-stop—at least, in the homes. While the pot-belly stove at the Mercantile provided a nice even warmth for its gang of hangers-on, the coals were damped down at night. Safety first, always.

A new business opened its doors in mid-January. First, a narrow store front was rented from its owner, Linus Drinkwater; then, boxes of equipment arrived by stage and were interred inside; last, a sign was affixed outside, above the door. The sign pictured a giant molar, with threatening roots, and the name posted beneath was that of Dr. Eustace O’Reilly.

Gabriel, understandably eager to welcome a fellow medical practitioner to the wide streets of Turnabout, stopped by for a visit, once the newcomer had settled in. Dr. O’Reilly even managed to persuade the doctor that he ought to have a seat in his chair, for a thorough examination.

“Why, the man’s a quack,” Gabriel spluttered later, to Hannah.

Stuffed up to the gills with outrage, he had needed to vent his spleen upon someone. That happened to be Miss Burton, cutting and pasting at her desk, and Gabe had burst into the newspaper office on his wave of indignation before she could take cover.

“A charlatan. O’Reilly is no more a dentist than you are. Shouldn’t dare to even put the word ‘Doctor’ in front of his name. In fact, anyone gettin’ a good look at his teeth would run for the hills; you’d swear he was a spavined ole horse that oughta be put outa its misery.

”

Hannah bit back a giggle. “I’m so pleased you chose to voice your opinion in such neutral terms.”

Fortunately, the time being slightly after noon, the place was deserted, and Gabe was free to voice his opinion in any terms at all. At least he didn’t have to worry about being sued for slander, since it wasn’t likely that Hannah would pass on the information to the wronged party.

Or would she?

“Look, Hannah, just promise me you’ll never let this fellah do any dental work for you.”

She couldn’t help feeling amused. “But I thought you were already his first patient.”

“Oh, no. I wasn’t about to sit in his chair. He’s just—” Struck by a sudden thought, Gabe paused to scratch his chin. “Huh. Wonder if I could persuade our illustrious mayor to convince that flimflammer he’d oughta move on to greener pastures.”

“Maybe.” He shifted his stance. “I was wondering what you were doin’ today?”

“You’re standing in a business office, Doctor. Obviously, I’m doing business; I’m working.”

“All right, I see that. Wanna go get some food somewhere?”