The Blushing Bride

“I’ll round up Shady and have him bring your bags over,” Ethan said.

“Thank you very much, Ethan,” Amanda said, and stepped inside the house. “You’ve been very kind.”

Ethan stood there on the porch for a moment, twisting his hat and shuffling his feet.

“Well…’night, Mrs. McGee,” he said.

“Good night, Ethan.” Meg paused for a moment, then closed the door softly.

Amanda was pleased to see that the McGee home looked comfortable and inviting. A big cookstove, a dining table and chairs, and a settee and rocker crowded the little room, decorated with lace doilies and a glowing lamp, all scrubbed clean and neat as a pin. Amanda felt herself relax for the first time since coming up the mountain.

“You must be starved,” Meg said. “Let me get you something.”

“I don’t want to impose on you any further,” Amanda said. “But I am quite hungry.”

Meg smiled. “It’s nothing fancy, just some chicken left from the supper I made for Todd and me.”

“Todd is your husband?” Amanda asked.

Meg stopped suddenly and her face blanched. “No. Todd is my son. My husband is…gone.”

Amanda cringed. Jason Kruger had told her about the dangerous work in the logging camp. She should have been more considerate about asking after Meg’s husband.

“I’m sorry to be so thoughtless,” Amanda said. “Please forgive me, and accept my condolences for your loss.”

Meg shook her head. “My husband isn’t dead. He’s…gone.”

There was surely more to the story than Meg was telling, but it was hardly any of Amanda’s business so she didn’t ask anything else.

Amanda didn’t pry into other peoples’ pasts because she knew—far too well—how hurtful that could be.

She slipped off her gloves and unpinned her hat while Meg moved around the kitchen. A knock sounded at the door, and when Meg answered it, Shady Harper ambled inside carrying Amanda’s two carpetbags and satchel.

“So, when are you and ol’ Jason gittin’ hitched?” Shady asked.

“There will be no wedding,” Amanda said. “It seems Mr. Kruger didn’t write that letter after all.”

Shady squinted hard at her. “And he’s not marrying you? Not doing the right thing by you?”

“You see, Shady, I never intended to marry Mr. Kruger.”

Shady tilted his head. “How’s that?”

She’d tried to explain it to Jason Kruger in his office but he’d refused to listen. She may as well tell somebody in this logging camp.

“I’m the owner of the Becoming Brides Matrimonial Service, not a prospective bride,” Amanda said. “My service is very selective. I don’t accept just any woman as a bride, nor do I blindly fill a request from every man who makes one.”

“So you come up here to have a look-see at Jason, after you got that letter from him asking for a wife?” Shady asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I came to determine if Mr. Kruger would be an acceptable Becoming Brides husband.”

“And you come all the way up here just to find out?” Shady asked.

“No, not entirely.” Amanda paused, reluctant to go into her real reason for being here. She already felt foolish enough in coming this far for nothing. But what damage could it do to talk about it now? She would leave in the morning and never see any of these people again.

“Actually, I’d hoped that other men here in the logging camp would want wives also,” Amanda said.

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Meg said.

“Darn tootin’,” Shady said.

“I didn’t know Mr. Kruger had a rule about not allowing women here. It seems I’ve brought my catalog of brides all the way up here for nothing.” Amanda gestured toward her satchel Shady had placed beside the stone fireplace.

“A catalog?” Shady asked. “Like a mail-order book? With pictures? Of women wanting to get hitched?”

Amanda nodded. “Dozens, actually. I offer brides of varying size, shape, hair color. All are educated and have excellent homemaking skills. Many are proficient in music and art, all sorts of things.”

Shady nodded toward her satchel. “And you got all them women in that book of yourn?”

“And the women are willing to come up here to the mountain to live?” Meg asked.

“Willing and anxious,” Amanda said. “I was disappointed, of course, when Mr. Kruger said no one here was interested in a wife.”

“Jason said that?” Meg asked.

“Yes,” Amanda said. “Several times—and not very pleasantly, I might add.”

“Humph.” Shady snorted and hitched up his trousers.

“There’s nothing left for me to do here,” Amanda said. “I’d like to ask you to take me back down the mountain in the morning, Shady.”

“You’re leaving?” Meg asked. “So soon?”

“I’ve no reason to stay.”

“Maybe if you give Jason time to think it over he’ll change his mind,” Meg said.

Amanda shook her head. “He was adamant about not allowing other women up here, even without knowing I owned the matrimonial service. Can you imagine his reaction if he knew I wanted to bring a large number of brides to his logging camp?”

Jason stood on the porch outside his office soaking up the silence and the peace and solitude of the darkness. During the day the mountain roared with the buzzing of saws in the mill, the horses and oxen straining against their heavy loads, axes splitting wood, and the shouts of his men felling the timber.

At night it was quiet. Peaceful. Jason’s mind could rest and his body could unwind. He treasured this time.

Except that tonight his thoughts hummed like a band saw and his body was wound tight enough to explode.

It was that woman’s fault. That Miss Amanda Pierce. Sashaying into his office with her bustle bobbing and her skirts swaying. Batting her eyelashes at him. Poking her lip out in a pout.

Well, damn if she’d come prancing onto his mountain and change the way he did things. Jason had a business to run. A business he’d fought hard to get started, and fought even harder to keep going. Big things were on the horizon. He didn’t need any distractions.