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

Camellia reached across the small intervening space with a calming hand. “You came because dear old Ben put out the word that I was languishing away, and you understood that I would appreciate the company.”

“That part is certainly true. Still—”

“Well, Letty has been here, and Grace Ellen, and now you. I expect Molly will be along soon, and probably that nice Martin Beecham. And then I’ll be exhausted from too much company, not a lack thereof, and Ben will have to ease up on his restrictions. So.” Laughing, she paused for breath. “The cats?”

“Oh, those furry little things.” For several minutes Hannah waxed eloquent on the subject of her temporary charges: their colors, their cuteness, their adaptability. Then, when words ran out, she sat in silence until the kettle, heated to boiling, suddenly began to whistle.

Twisting slightly to watch as her sister worked with the Earl Grey she had brought, a teapot, and the porcelain diffuser, Camellia finally asked, “Hen, is something bothering you?”

“Nooo...not really. It’s just—”

Her sister was already burdened with difficulties of her own: a six months’ pregnancy, with all its attendant physical and emotional woes, what changes the coming baby would mean for her and Ben as a couple, what adjustments would have to be made to the household and its routine. Surely with so much going on in her life, she would have neither time nor energy to listen to the misadventures of a spinster sister!

“Is everything ready? Then stop fussing with it, Hen, and talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Like a considerate hostess, Hannah finished preparing a tray with everything needed, including the bakery cookies, before she returned to the parlor.

“Such a luxury,” Camellia approved, sipping at her strong hot tea with pleasure. “Ben does his best to take care of me, and I know he doesn’t mind. But a few minor items occasionally fall through the cracks—those things that only another woman would understand. Thank you, dear. Now.”

Opening up with a confidence comes so much more easily over the familiar ritual of taking afternoon tea. After a few minutes spent pouring, sugaring, stirring, and so on, Hannah brought up the subject closest to her heart these days. She spoke of periodic stabs of feeling alone, and lonely; of feeling she would be left behind when most of the world’s beings seem to come in pairs; of worrying about finances, and growing old, and living only in the company of cats. Last of all, she mentioned the letter she’d written, and its unsatisfactory reply, and her own follow-up.

Camellia listened silently, without comment or censure, without indication by expression or sound what her reaction might be. If she had learned anything at all from living, first with three sisters, and now with an intermittently irascible husband, it was that the greatest gift one person can give to another is that quality of mindful, uncritical attention.

When Hannah was finally finished, and could sit back with her cup of tea as if completely drained of all emotion, Camellia asked a few questions and offered, not unsolicited advice, but encouragement and reinforcement.

“No, I haven’t heard a word from him since that very first letter, ten days ago. And here it is, close to the end of January. It’s—discouraging, to say the least...” Hannah tried for a laugh but failed.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. At least Ben was very timely, while we were writing back and forth. Then this Mr. Ualraig has never mentioned where he lives? Perhaps his home town is too far away for regular correspondence. Or perhaps he’s gotten involved in something beyond his control, business-wise; or perhaps he’s ill.”

“Good old Cam,” said Hannah fondly. “You’re always trying to see the bright side of any situation, aren’t you? You know I love that about you, right?”

Nibbling at one of the iced sugar cookies, she closed her eyes for a minute in pure bliss. “Well, Hen, what else can you do, when you have no facts to fall back on? Once you start a venture like this, you have to take a lot on faith. Believe me, I know.”

“Oh, all three of you do; you’ve walked these steps long before I tried them.” Words laced with a mixture of chagrin and rue. “All right, enough about me. Anything new with all the family?”

“Well, let me see.” Camellia set aside her cup, pulled a shawl more closely around her shoulders, and considered. “Paul and his deputies are still pursuing the matter of those stagecoach robberies. You may have noticed he’s been out of town fairly frequently, investigating, but, according to Molly, so far he hasn’t come up with any leads.”

“That has to be frustrating. I suppose he’s telegraphed neighboring towns for information?”

“Indeed, yes. Without much success, I’m afraid. The crimes seem to be centered in this area. As for Molly, I think she’s really happy now. But I think she wants to do more.”

“Molly always was the flightiest of all us Burtons,” said Hannah without a single degree of censure, just mere acknowledgement of fact. “It’s hard for her to settle down into anything. She doesn’t have enough to do?”

A downward draft from the sudden rise of wind around the roof sent fireplace flames wildly scrambling for survival, and a few sparks scattered upon the hearth rug. Hastily Hannah rose, before Camellia could put aside all her paraphernalia, and set things to rights.

“I think that’s probably the case,” came the thoughtful agreement. “She’s all finished with the redoing of that doll’s house of theirs, now that the music room is ready and the piano has been moved, and she’s itching to try her hand at something else.”

Hannah, resuming her seat, poured another cup of the bracing Earl Grey. “I’m sure she’ll find a new project. Let’s hope it happens before she drives Paul into spasms. He’s probably relieved that this chain of attacks on the stagecoach line has given him an excus

e to be out of town.”

Comfortably the sisters chuckled together over Molly’s foibles, still charming for all who knew her. She was what she was, formed in part by her horrific childhood experiences, and nothing and no one was going to change her personality.

“I do believe she’s been visiting Abigail now and then, at the Table. They probably have a lot of common, appreciating all that pirate’s ship of wonderful treasure she’s collected.”

“And Letty?”

“Letty. My goodness, that girl is amazing. Do you know she actually took care of a patient the other day?”