Page 19 of Mail Order Bride

“Who?”

“The man.”

He furrows his brow, and then he sort of shrugs. “He never said.”

Mr. Davenport looks like he might be sick at any minute. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” I say, crossing into the kitchen. “I don’t suppose you want any of that bad water we have around here.” The sooner I get him out of here, the sooner I can find the man I’m really looking for. “I’d offer you tea, but, well, it’s made with water.”

My father wipes the sweat from his brow. “Forgive my daughter,” he says. “Gina doesn’t mean to be rude, do you, dear?”

I lean over the counter and shrug. “Of course not.”

Daddy's face is etched with worry. His brows are raised, and his eyes dart around the room as though he is looking for an escape. “Gina has a lot of talents. She’s very… special.”

He says it like I have some sort of mental condition. Like I’m a few bricks shy of a load.

I watch the stranger’s face. I can see that he’s heard the rumors around town. This doesn’t surprise me. There are a lot of them. Some people believe me to be psychotic, others go as far as calling me possessed, probably on account of what happened with Mama. Either way, most townsfolk would agree. They might put it nicely, some of them, by leaving the crazy part out, simply saying I’m too smart for my own good. A real handful; the kind of girl who doesn’t know her place.

The stranger’s eyes look away, which is good, because it gives me time to study him more closely without being what my father calls “rude.” Will Davenport’s brows are furrowed in concentration, his face scowling. His lips are twisted in thought. It looks as if he is thinking, working something out, and then suddenly it all comes together, and he looks troubled. My father repeats himself. He tells Will Davenport about my unique “abilities.”

“She’s a prize,” Daddy says. “A real prize.”

“I can see that.”

I smile because I realize what has come together in Will Davenport’s mind. The same thing that always comes together if I’m not what Daddy calls “careful.”

The stranger is terrified of me. He doesn’t want to marry me. He doesn’t even want to be here.

It’s obvious in how fast he manages to find an excuse to leave.

When he puts his hand out to say goodbye, his skin is cold and clammy, and I have to fight the urge to wipe his sweat off onto my dress. For a second, I wish he would say something, but he doesn't. He just tips his hat and leaves, the broken screen door swinging behind him.

“Strange,” I say to my father. “He looked like he saw a ghost.”

“Why all the questions, Gin?”

I can see the pain in his expression. He is thinking that I'll never learn. “You scared that poor man. Couldn’t you have simply greeted him properly? Said ‘how do you do,’ or ‘how do you do, sir?’”

“I’ve never seen him before.”

He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I didn’t think you had.”

Chapter Sixteen

Joel

Ireceived the letter on a Tuesday. Could I come to Tennessee? Well, Tennessee is a long way from Texas, but not so far as to make me say no. On the bright side, it’s not hard to find work up that way.

I’m a grave digger by trade, which means there’s always work to be found. Death and taxes, as they say.

It’s not a glamorous job by any means, but a necessary one.

I find peace in the dead.

I wanted to be a doctor, but it turns out I don't like people that much. My second first choice was to make a living as a veterinarian, but these days you have to go to school for that, and who has the money or the time?

Pa always thought I should take up work at the lumberyard.

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