Page 143 of Conveniently Wed
She tried to think of another nice comment to make about Miriam’s dress—gownwas really too strong of a word for the woebegone piece of material. Its length was almost too short, both in the skirt and sleeves, even for Miriam’s petite body.
She didn’t seem embarrassed, though, and waved off Leah’s comment. “This ol’ thing has seen better days for sure. I need tomake a new one, just haven’t found the time to go all the way to Butte for new calico.”
Leah was saved a response by the thump of boots on the porch and the light squeak of the front door. Ol’ Mose shuffled in, followed by a true, honest-to-goodness mountain man. He turned to shut the door, then hung his hat on the wall. Something about him struck her as familiar. His profile showed him to be a bit younger than the mountain men she’d imagined. He had a full beard and wavy brown hair that just covered his neck.
Then he turned toward them, and Leah saw those deep emerald eyes. Her heart leaped.
He was the man from the ferry, when she’d first arrived in St. Louis.
Butterflies flipped in her middle as she looked again into his green gaze. Those eyes were an even deeper shade than Miriam’s, and the long green work shirt he wore accented them perfectly.
He was taller than she remembered. Next to Ol’ Mose, he looked like a giant. But he didn’t carry himself hunched over like most tall men she’d seen. He stood straight and confident in his own masculine skin.
There she was.
Was this a vision? Or was the woman from St. Louis actually sitting at his kitchen table? If he hadn’t lost his marbles, then how did she get here?
She sat poised and elegant, with a little hat perched on her head that would do nothing to protect her from the sun. Just likeshe’d come out of a New York City parlor room. And she was looking at him as if he had two heads and three arms.
“Gideon,” his baby sister piped up from the cook stove where she stirred something in the big pot, “I’d like you to meet Leah.”
He nodded a greeting in the general direction of the woman, and turned to hang his leather hat on the peg behind the door.
“Leah, this is my big brother Gideon.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bryant.”
Now there’s something he hadn’t been called in a month of Sundays…Mr. Bryant. Especially not in a voice that reminded him of the lullabies Ma used to sing when Miriam was a babe. Just then, his traitor dog Drifter strolled right up to the lady, sniffed her outstretched hand, then wagged his tail wildly as she rubbed the sweet spot behind his ear. Gideon knew what that dazed look on the dog’s face meant. He’d fallen in love.
Gideon tried to keep his “harrumph” to himself, but by the warning look on Miriam’s face, it must have slipped out. Moving toward the shelf to grab a bowl, he motioned for Ol’ Mose to do the same. He stepped toward the stove and filled his dish almost to the brim with beef stew, and was about to turn toward his usual place at the table, when Miriam put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Gideon,” her voice was low, urgent. “Leah is the one who responded to Abel’s advertisement. She sent the telegram.”
He froze, trying to make sense of what his sister had just said. “But…I sent a message telling her not to come.” Of all the nerve. She must be desperate for sure. He’d warned Abel not to place that silly ad.
The sadness was stronger in Miriam’s eyes than it had been the last few weeks. “She didn’t receive your message.” Then the sadness was joined by a glimmer of hope. “I want her to stay, though, Gideon. Can she stay?”
If he said what he wanted to, it would crush his baby sister. Instead, he brushed her off with, “I’ll think about it.”
Leah sat silently, eating occasional bites of the watered-down stew. Her mind was too busy to join the conversation volleying back and forth between Miriam and Ol’ Mose.
Now what? This had been her one real plan. Even though she’d thought to find a job in Butte City in case the marriage with Abel Bryant didn’t work out, deep down she’d really thought itwouldwork. God had clearly opened the doors for her to come here. Why would He bring her to this obvious dead end?
She cautiously glanced at the older brother while the others were enamored with one of Ol’ Mose’s stories. Did he remember her, too? His face hadn’t shown any recognition, just shock, partially concealed by the thick brown curls covering the lower half.
What did he look like under that thick beard? Was he handsome as his strong cheekbones suggested? That kind of thinking would get her nowhere at this point.
She dipped her spoon into the bowl again and pulled out a chunk of meat. The soup was definitely not the best she’d eaten, but better than nothing. It wasn’t even as good as Mose’s campfire cooking, which had been surprisingly flavorful considering the limited supplies he used. She lifted the spoon to her mouth. This bit of meat was the toughest bite yet.
She forced her mind back to what she should do next. She had no choice at this point but to continue on to Butte. Maybe there would be work for her there, or maybe she would head back to Helena or Fort Benton.
Ol’ Mose had mentioned he would likely stay the night in the Bryant’s barn, since it was still a few hours to Butte. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if she stayed out there, as well. Or perhaps it was possible they might have an extra room with a real bed? That might be too much to hope.
Leah glanced at Miriam, her green eyes glowing as she hung on the old trapper’s every word. Something tugged in her chest. Even though she really didn’t know her, she would miss this young woman.
After dinner, Leah helped Miriam wipe out the dishes, a task she’d done for Ol’ Mose while they were on the trail. This was her best opportunity to pose the question she’d been contemplating. “Miriam, I think Ol’ Mose said he usually stays the night in your barn when he comes through here?”
“Yep, we try every time to put him up in the house in one of the extra beds, but he won’t hear of it. Says he can’t sleep on a soft mattress.”
