Mail Order Hannah Page 3

  “Yes, I do,” she said quietly. “How could anyone not care for her?”

  She suddenly changed the subject. “Can you hold her again while I wet this face cloth? I won’t be long.” She left the room before he could answer, and Rosie pulled at his hair again, making Cecil wish he’d been to the barber as he’d planned.

  His hands closed over hers, trying to free his hands. Her skin was so soft, and her hands so tiny.

  Then she stared at him and giggled. How anyone could resist that sweet face he would never know. How he was going to resist her was more the question. It begged the question – did Hannah Wilson purposely leave him with the child so he would take a liking to her?

  He thought not.

  She soon returned with the wet cloth and cleaned Rosie up properly. “That’s much better,” he said, finally over the shock of their first meeting, and feeling a little more connected to the whole scenario.

  “I’ll just clean up this mess, and then I’ll be back for her.” She picked up the bowl with the remaining apples. “If you don’t mind that is?”

  He nodded. The best thing for them all would be if they left sooner rather than later. It was such a pity as he was warming to Miss Wilson.

  Rosie snuggled into him, and reached her hands up to his cheeks, rubbing her fingers along his chin. “Pa-pa.”

  His heart thudded in his chest. She thought he was her father? His heart broke for the dear little orphan sitting on his knee.

  What would his sister say if he sent this child away? Not to mention rejecting his bride-to-be?

  Forget his sister, what would Mrs Baker from the Diner say? She would have a real time of it, making sure he knew about her distaste at his callous behavior.

  Before he knew what was happening, she pulled herself up on her knees and held him by his cheeks. “Pa-pa.” She moved in quickly and gave him a big sloppy kiss, her arms now wrapped around his neck.

  What sort of person was he to send these two away? He wondered where would they end up if he reneged on his agreement.

  The way his thoughts went did not paint a nice picture.

  “Is everything alright here?”

  He wondered how long she had stood in his doorway watching the antics of this dear child. “Everything is perfectly fine.”

  Rosie moved in for a hug, a big grin on her face. “Pa-pa,” she said again, and he was almost beginning to believe it.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he began. Cecil wasn’t sure if he was in his right mind, or whether he’d been manipulated by two very clever females.

  Chapter Four

  Cecil waited out in the kitchen with Rosie while Hannah changed her clothes and freshened up.

  If they were going to do this, she was going to look presentable. She pulled her best gown out of the trunk, and began to change.

  She washed her face and hands, then brushed out her hair and pulled it into a chignon. Then she pulled on her best bonnet. Not that she had many. The money she’d made from Mr Richardson was barely enough for necessities. It certainly didn’t buy luxury items like new bonnets.

  “Are you ready yet, Miss Wilson?” Her groom-to-be called through the door.

  She opened the door, and there he stood. “Ah, Miss Wilson. Does Rosie require any attention?”

  As it happened, she didn’t. Hannah had already changed her, and dressed her in fresh clothes. “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Hannah? The preacher will think it rather strange if you address me as Miss Wilson.”

  She knew she was right. More to the point, what would the preacher say about Rosie? That was going to be the test.

  “Shall we go,” he asked, straightening his tie.

  “We shall.” She grinned. He was obviously nervous, but she was nervous too. Never in a million years did she imagine herself becoming mother to an orphaned baby. Nor did she imagine she would be getting married to a complete stranger.

  She didn’t feel desperate, but desperation had led her to register as mail order bride. She had no plans and no prospects after her arranged time looking after Rosie. She certainly didn’t want to end up homeless.

  Although the pastor’s wife back home had ensured her that wouldn’t happen. If it came to that, she had promised to take Hannah on as governess to her own children. Hannah knew she was saying it because she felt sorry for her.

  They left the residence and headed toward the church, hidden at the back of the main street. The town looked to be nice – friendly – and there were a variety of businesses here.

  She pushed the carriage and was enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. She was certain Rosie would be too. They had both endured far more soot-filled days than she cared to remember.

  They came to some steps at the end of the boardwalk, and Cecil lifted the carriage down. “It’s just around the corner now,” he said.

  Just as well, because Hannah was feeling more than a little anxious now.

  They turned the corner and she stopped, taking in the scene before her. “It’s beautiful,” she said, staring at the building. “It’s far bigger than my church back home.”

  He went ahead and opened the carved door for her, and waited for her to push Rosie through the door. “This is lovely, Cecil,” she said, glancing about.

  Rosie was visually exploring her new surroundings.

  “Wait,” he suddenly said. She stared at him. Had he changed his mind? “Before we go in, I want to clarify this is to be a marriage of convenience.”

  “You don’t want children?” she asked shocked. “Heirs?”

  He turned to face her. “We have Rosie.”

  She nodded. “I understand,” she said quietly, but not really comprehending why he would make such a decision.

  He continued to hold the door open while they moved toward the front where the preacher waited patiently for them.

  THE CEREMONY HADN’T taken as long as Hannah thought it would.

  In less then fifteen minutes her life had changed forever. Whether that would be for the better, she wasn’t sure yet.

  “We have to get back and re-open the Mercantile,” Cecil announced as they left the church.

  “Of course.” It might not have been the wedding she’d dreamed of as a little girl, but now she was a wife and mother. A few days ago she was neither.

  Back then she was the Governess to this sweet little girl, and planning her life as the Mercantile owner’s wife.

  She dreamed of their future children, and the way their lives would be intertwined.

  A marriage of convenience was not in her plans. Or her dreams.

  When they arrived back at the residence, Cecil unlocked the door and picked her up. “Wait,” she said quietly. “You’re carrying me across the threshold?”

  He hesitated. “You don’t want me to?”

  She did, she really did. But he wanted a marriage of convenience and she didn’t. Especially after being this close to him. Hannah breathed in and the essence of Cecil hit her senses. Her arms slid up around his neck, and she became more aware of their closeness than she had just moments ago.

  She smiled. “Yes, I do.” She sighed then, and rested her head against his shoulder. She could stay like this forever.

  “Pa-pa.”

  They both glanced back at Rosie. She was becoming impatient.

  Cecil stepped forward and deposited Hannah on the floor without further interaction. He then rolled the carriage inside and the moment was gone.

  Closing the door he glanced at his pocket-watch. “Goodness me,” he said urgently. “It is far later than I’d anticipated. I must re-open the Mercantile. My customers will be frustrated at the delay.”

  “I’ll organize your luncheon. Would you like me to bring it in when it’s ready?”

  He turned to her. “That would be nice, thank you. I can’t close again today.” He gave her a tight smile, and she knew his business may have suffered because of her.

  She had to find a way to make it up to him. “Coffee?”

  �
��Definitely.” She watched his back as he disappeared down the hallway and unlocked the door to the store.

  “Pa-pa.” Rosie wanted out of the carriage, but wanted her father. Or was it Cecil she wanted? It was difficult to tell. What she did know was Rosie would never know her biological parents, and that was incredibly sad.

  Hannah had not taken much from the Richardson house except for Rosie’s clothes and other necessities, but she did take something that didn’t belong to her. Until now she’d regretted it.

  She’d tucked the ornate frame underneath the mattress in the baby carriage. It was the only photograph she had managed to find with both Rosie’s parents. When she was old enough, she would be given the photograph, and learn about her parents.

  Hannah didn’t know a lot about them, she mainly knew them from church. But they were good people, and didn’t deserve to die so young. Little Rosemary didn’t deserve to be left an orphan either.

  If she hadn’t taken her as the police officer suggested, she’d be laying in a cold, dank orphanage right now. It was the last thing she wanted for her, or for any child.

  She picked the baby up and hugged her tight. She earned a big sloppy kiss for her troubles. Hannah’s heart filled with warmth.

  After changing and feeding her, Hannah put Rosie down for a nap.

  Next she would tackle Cecil’s lunch. She had no idea what food was available to her, and checked the pantry. There wasn’t a great deal there, but she could make him a plate of beans, or a ham and cheese sandwich. There was also a small amount of bacon.

  That was pretty much the extent of the supplies. She would make do today, but needed to get more supplies. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she raided his Mercantile to fill their pantry?

  She checked on Rosie, who was sleeping soundly in the spare room, then quietly went into the Mercantile with Cecil’s luncheon. A sandwich would have to suffice today – it would be awkward eating beans out in the store.

  He was serving a customer when she opened the door. Several other customers were also in the store.

  All eyes turned to her. He grinned, and she felt like shrinking into the floor. “Everyone,” he said when she got closer. “This is Hannah, my wife.” He put an arm around her shoulder, and warmth flooded her.

  She was certain it was all for display. There were no feelings between them, and that’s the way he obviously wanted it to stay.

  She heard the collective gasp from around the room. “Hello everyone,” she said quietly, trying to sound confident but sure she’d failed.

  “Here is your food,” she said, leaving it on the shelf behind the counter. “I’ll bring your coffee in a moment.” She leaned in and whispered. “Rosie is napping.”

  He nodded, and returned to his customers.

  Hannah returned a short time later with his mug of coffee, and Cecil snatched it up, apparently in urgent need of its sustenance. She smiled – she never could understand the reasoning behind coffee desperation.

  By the time she returned, the store was empty of customers. “We need supplies if I’m to make supper tonight.”

  “Of course,” he said, grabbing a large box from under the counter. “I’ll help. Anything you want, put in this box.”

  They wandered around the store and she added flour, sugar, eggs, and milk. “I’ll make pancakes tonight. Do you have fruit and vegetable here?”

  “I carry most things here, but not meat. The butcher is up the road, and you can put whatever you need on my account.”

  “I have a bit of money,” she told him defiantly.

  He looked annoyed. “You are my wife, and I will provide for you. Put your purchases on my account,” he said firmly. She nodded and continued to fill the box with her immediate requirements. “Anything you need, you come out here and take it. No need to ask.”

  She nodded again, but didn’t feel comfortable with this arrangement – it almost felt like stealing.

  Should she tell him how she feels? Hannah decided not to since he was already annoyed with her.

  He carried the box into the residence for her and placed it on the table. As he turned to leave, they heard Rosie giggling.

  She headed to the bedroom and he followed. Luckily the store was devoid of customers. It got Hannah to wondering if he’d ever left the store unattended before.

  “What about your customers?” She leaned into the carriage and pulled a very wet baby out. She had already laid a towel on the spare bed, and now lay the giggling child there.

  “The bell over the door will alert me to any customers.” He tickled Rosie under the chin. “What a good little girl you are,” he said as he continued to tickle her.

  “Pa-pa.”

  He glanced up at Hannah. “Is that the only word she can say?”

  “She can say ‘ted-ted’ when she wants her toy teddy bear.”

  Right on queue, likely because she’d heard it said, the word flowed from her mouth. “Ted-ted.” Her little arms outstretched, and Cecil glanced about trying to locate the toy in question.

  “It’s in the carpetbag,” Hannah told him. “It’s one of the few toys I managed to bring. I already had far too much baggage.” It didn’t make her happy, far from it, but a decision had to be made at the time.

  He pulled the toy from the bag and handed it to a still giggling baby. “Ted-ted.” Her little arms outstretched, she pulled the toy to herself and hugged it tightly.

  A knot formed in Hannah’s stomach. She would never regret having saved this sweet little girl from the awful fate of an orphanage. She was a happy baby, but that would have quickly changed if she’d been placed in such an institution.

  “She’s quite happy playing there, isn’t she?”

  Hannah knew it wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “She’s mostly happy, provided she’s fed and dry.”

  Hannah lifted Rosie up and she reached out to Cecil. He had begun to hug her when the bell over the shop door tinkled. “I’m sorry, little one,” he said, regret in his voice. “But Papa has to go to work.”

  He handed her over and scurried back to the store.

  Papa? Did that mean he was already accepting Rosie as his daughter? With all her heart, Hannah certainly hoped so.

  Chapter Five

  Cecil closed the store for the day. He really wanted to stay and stack the shelves with the latest delivery items, but it had been a long day, and he was exhausted.

  He pondered it was likely more emotional exhaustion than physical.

  As he opened the door to the residence, the aroma of cooking food assaulted his senses. He hadn’t eaten a real meal for a very long time. Except at the diner.

  Mrs Baker prided herself on home-cooked meals, and he visited at least once a fortnight. The rest of the time he had canned beans, scrambled eggs, or sometimes, for a change he had bacon and eggs on toast.

  He had no idea what supper involved, as Hannah had taken a large variety of foods to restock the pantry. He’d been rather negligent in that area for as long as he could remember. But what was the point when he didn’t like to cook?

  She stood at the wood stove her back to him, and the sight stirred something in him. Was it just through having a woman in the house?

  He’d left her to her own devices today, not wanting to interfere with whatever she was doing. It was more so she could get used to her new home and get settled in without interruption more than anything. Rosie was the same – she especially needed to explore her new environment. It must be a difficult change, particularly for the baby.

  He cleared his throat, not wanting to startle her. “Oh!” She turned with a spoon in her hand, and flour across one cheek.

  He grinned, then reached out to wipe the flour away. A thrill went down his spine, and he tried to ignore it. “You have flour on your face,” he said as he chuckled. “What are you making?”

  She turned back to the stove. “Pancakes with potatoes and bacon. I’ll make something more substantial tomorrow.” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I hope that’s alright?”

  “It’s more than alright,” he said into her ear, breathing in the fragrance he’d also noticed earlier. Lavender water if his senses told him correctly.

  He leaned over her shoulder to glance at the food, but it only made it worse. Her nearness was something he should be avoiding. He stepped back and out of the danger zone. “Where’s Rosie?” A change of subject was probably his best protection.

  “I’ve already fed her, and now she’s sleeping.” Disappointment flood him. Did that mean he wouldn’t get to see her again tonight? “Supper’s ready.”

  He shook his disappointment aside and sat when instructed. Hannah put a plate of food in front of him, and Cecil leaned in and breathed deeply. Heaven. “It smells wonderful,” he said honestly.

  The moment Hannah sat down, he reached for her hand, ready to say a prayer of thanks. He’d been lacking in that area for a long time. It didn’t seem prudent to be thankful about food he barely tolerated, but tonight was different.

  “Dear Lord,” he said as he held her hand. “Thank you for this wonderful food. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  He lifted his knife and fork and began to eat. He took a mouthful of the pancakes. It melted in his mouth. The potatoes and bacon were every bit as good. He glanced across to see her watching him. “This is really good,” he said, about to take another mouthful.

  She laughed. “Anyone would think you hadn’t eaten in days.”

  “I guess I haven’t - not real food anyway. Not like this,” he said. “This is delicious.”

  She stared at him in apparent disbelief. “What have you been eating?” Her brows were drawn in a frown. He preferred her when she was smiling.

  He waved his fork through the air. “You know, beans, eggs, bacon. Stuff like that.”

  Cecil couldn’t help but hear her sigh, and he watched a sadness come over her. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said quietly. “As of today, all that changes.”

  He nodded. What else could he do? Tell his new wife she couldn’t cook for him? That certainly wasn’t going to happen.