And Imagine Matthew Quinn's Surprise When ...
Nowhere, in the Washington Territory …
Matthew Quinn cautiously picked up the bucket
of dirty water and carried the sloshing, smelly, vessel to the back porch of
the mercantile. Once there he lifted the
bucket higher, (careful not to spill) turned his face away in disgust, and
dumped the water out. He closed his eyes when the subsequent splat resulted, lest he suffer any back
splash, and waited before slowly opening one eye. He sighed in relief that he
hadn’t spilled any on his boots, and turned to the door.
When
had he become so fastidious? He’d never been
this squeamish before he left for college.
He’d studied science and doctoring for Pete’s sake! Had his hands in
blood and guts up to his elbow at times, so why the aversion to some dirty water?
He straightened his spectacles, stopped, and peered over his shoulder at the
puddle in the street. Ah, yes … now he remembered ... Germs!
Ever since he read John Snow’s articles on the
cholera outbreaks of Broad Street in London, he’d been horrified by them. The
diseases, the fevers, the deaths, and
of course the worst part, the epidemic proportions! Matthew cringed at the thought and went
inside.
He set the bucket down, closed the door, and
glanced around the kitchen of his family’s living quarters in the back of the
mercantile. Not much had changed since he’d left. His parents had slapped a
coat of paint on the place and had the front-sign re-done. Different curtains
decorated his old room upstairs, and his mother used new china last night at
dinner, but other than that, everything was right as he left it.
Nothing
in town seemed to have changed either, in his four years away at school, and
had he been gone, say, ten, he had no doubt the town would still be the same. He sighed, moseyed to the front of the store,
and stopped up short. Something had changed
...
His
mouth went dry, his knees became like jelly, and his gut twisted into a gigantic
knot the likes of which he’d not felt in years.
She turned around, a vision of loveliness.
“Matthew?”
Matthew’s spectacles slowly slid down his
sweat covered nose, as his brain fogged with mixed emotions. How could he
have possibly forgotten what this was
like? Four years had passed since
he’d seen her, and he was still tongue-tied
in her presence! It wasn’t until his spectacles almost slid completely off, that he got his wits about him.
He pushed them up into place. “Hello, Char … Charlotte.”
She gave him a dazzling smile. “I heard you
came back early from school, but I never did understand why.” She sashayed her
way to the counter, her cream-colored dress making a swishing sound as she
approached. He fought against a lovesick sigh as he watched her. “Boston is such
a lovely city, why would you ever leave?”
He swallowed hard. “Be … Because,” his voice
squeaked. “I wanted to come home.”
“To Nowhere?” she asked with a
raised brow. “Why Matthew Quinn, what did they teach you in that fancy school
of yours? You had a chance to get out of this town and here you are, right back
where you started.”
He studied her. She was even more beautiful
than he remembered. Her chestnut hair and hazel eyes had him mesmerized. She’d filled out during his four year absence,
the willow-thin of adolescence blossoming into the woman she’d become. She stood looking at him over the counter,
her eyes slowly taking him in, and he wondered what she was thinking.
Clayton Riley …
Matthew’s shoulders slumped. Of course,
what else would she be thinking? Not
a day went by when the man’s name didn’t leave Charlotte’s lips in some form or
fashion. Hadn’t he gotten married recently? Matthew arrived on the afternoon
stage only yesterday. His mother had been so occupied cooking his favorite meal
she hadn’t much time to catch him up yet. He thought he’d caught some mention
of it that morning, but wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy getting fawned over by his
mother, not to mention several of her matronly friends, when he went to work.
Thankfully, she was preparing lunch, and the matrons who frequented the
mercantile in the morning hours had come and gone. Only Charlotte was in the store, alone … with
him.
Matthew smiled.
“Has anyone told you what you’ve missed while being
away?” Charlotte asked.
He shook himself. Was she trying to make conversation? It was usually the other way around.
“No, not really. I got in yesterday. There hasn’t been time and …”
“Oh, well then!” she said as her eyes lit up.
“Let me enlighten you as to all the latest happenings.” She leaned against the
counter and stared up at him.
Matthew willed himself not to sweat. So what
if the January winds howled outside, he’d never been able to remain cool and calm
where Charlotte was concerned. “Do tell?”
“Oh yes, I’ll
tell!” she laughed.
His eyes widened at the sound. Good Lord! She
had to be the most beautiful woman in the world! “Well?” he croaked. “What have
you to report?”
She straightened, sighed, and picked at one of
her gloves. “Of course you’ve already heard Clayton Riley got married.”
His heart sank. She appeared so forlorn when she said it.
“No, I hadn’t.”
She let out a long sigh. “Spencer too, just
last week, in fact.”
“Both
the Riley brothers are married?” That was
news. Clayton and Spencer Riley had been the most eligible bachelors in town
for years. Now, both were out of his way!
Matthew again smiled, broader this time.
Charlotte noticed and smiled back. “Recently,
within a few weeks of each other. Too bad you missed Spencer’s wedding. It was
quite nice. And Billy the deputy, you remember him? Well, he married the same
day.”
“He did?”
Matthew asked and straightened. Three weddings in Nowhere so close together was
unheard of! “Who did he marry?”
“My sister.”
“Abbey?!”
Charlotte’s eyes darted to the floor. She
slowly moved away from him. “Yes,” came out a sad whisper. Matthew saw her
shoulders droop for a scant second, before she turned. “Yes, quite a bit of
marrying has been going on around here of late, too bad you missed it all.”
“Too bad,” he agreed as he gazed into her
eyes. He swallowed, and before he thought to stop himself asked, “What about
you, Charlotte, Are you going to get married?” He had to find out! A lot could
have happened in the last four years. Who knew how many men came to town in
that time and decided to settle? His
parents never cared for the Davis family, or to be more specific, Nellie Davis,
and so didn’t mention them in their letters. But whom else had they mentioned? Drat
it all! He couldn’t remember.
“I’m not sure if I’ll ever marry …”
His head shot up. “What?” he blurted. He’d
been so busy trying to remember any mention of new settlers in the area, he
wasn’t sure if he heard her right. A miracle in itself, he usually couldn’t pry
his eyes or ears from her.
She shrugged, and he noticed the tiniest hint
of tears. He studied her, his heart hitching at the thought of Charlotte
growing old, alone and unwanted. Unfortunately, what things he had heard since
his arrival involved Charlotte, none of them good. He decided he’d judge for
himself if she was as bad as his mother said. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked
after the Davis family last night at dinner … all that got him was an earful of
Charlotte this, and Charlotte that, and this town would be better off without
that Charlotte Davis…
She swallowed hard, straightened, and
forced a smile. He knew it was forced by the way her jaw tightened. Matthew
made a habit of studying every inch of her face, memorizing it every time he
was with her as they grew up. A great sadness was now hidden within the
tightness around her mouth, the furrow of her brow. He also remembered a great
defiance, as if she shouted to the world, No!
You’ll never break me! No matter how hard you try! Her one trait that
annoyed people the most, but not Matthew. He deemed it a hidden strength of
which she drew from when she needed it. Each time her heart was broken …
He’d witnessed Charlotte’s heart break apart
piece by piece over the years, and before he went off to school. Her mother did the most damage, filling the
girl’s head with ideas of marrying into the Riley family, and belonging to one
of the biggest apple farms, if not the biggest
in the area. Nellie Davis’s ambition had crushed her daughter’s heart one blow
at a time, and Matthew often wondered if she hadn’t pushed Clayton on Charlotte
so hard, would her feelings be the same for him? Or, travled elsewhere if left
to their own devices?
“Are you planning to attend the Valentine’s
dance?” she asked. She walked down the length of the counter and ran a gloved
finger along the polished wood as she went.
Matthew’s eyes gravitated to her small waist.
Visions of dancing with her in his arms flooded his mind. “I hadn’t thought
about it. I’d … I’d quite forgotten about the dance.”
She turned to him, her face void of emotion.
“I see.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out a list. Without looking at him, she walked along the
counter and handed the paper to him. “Here’s what I need.” She slowly raised
her eyes. “It’s nice to have you back, Matthew,” she said softly. She then
glanced to the front windows.
He took the list from her as his heart sank. All
the fight seemed to have gone out of her. Where could the spitting, fiery, minx
he’d left four years ago be hiding?
Maybe what his mother said was true, that Charlotte had become a
prisoner of her own actions, and now, sad and lonely, she was a far cry from
the girl he grew up with. She’d told him
last night what sort of gossips the Davis women had become, not to mention
conniving and underhanded when it came to getting what they wanted. He was familiar with how Mrs. Davis could be.
He’d witnessed her antics all his life. But Charlotte didn’t start to become
like her mother until she got old enough to catch the eye of the young men in
town. At fourteen she’d been a beauty, and actually quite sweet, even though
she had a habit of speaking out of turn, and didn’t hesitate to fight for
something she wanted or believed in. It
was her strength, and he remembered it well. But what happened to quell her
fighting spirit?
“I’ll get these things for you, Charlotte” he
said gently. “Wait right here.” His
heart went out to her. For the first time, Matthew noticed her melancholy, and
realized she held something in her eyes he hoped never to see. Regret.
Matthew decided to find out if what his mother
said about Charlotte was true, and anything else mentioned regarding the Davis
family. He needed to find the Charlotte he knew. She had to be there, she just
had to! After all, she was the reason he
came home.
*
* *
Charlotte watched as Matthew climbed a
stepladder to get a jar off a high shelf. He’d gotten taller since she last saw
him, a lot taller. She remembered when
they were the same height, and tried not to laugh as she recalled the time
she’d punched him in the nose. He didn’t cry out, he didn’t do anything except
stare at her, his fists at his sides, until finally, he just walked away. She’d
given him a bloody nose and Abbey told her the next day he’d been furious, but
that he wasn’t about to hit a silly girl. He wouldn’t be a man if he did, and
besides, his pa would tan his hide if he found out about such a thing.
She studied him as he busied himself behind
the counter to fill her mother’s order. His shoulders had become much broader,
his hair darker. A dark blonde when he left, it was now a golden brown, still thick
and with a slight wave. She remembered having her hands in it while playing in
the creek down at Mr. Johnson’s swimming hole. She’d tried to dunk him after he
called her a silly name. He dunked her
instead, and so she’d taken two fistfuls and pulled him underwater. He in turn
had grabbed her ankles and yanked her feet out from under her …
“What are you smiling at, Charlotte?”
Charlotte glanced up. Mrs. Quinn, Matthew’s
mother, stood on the other side of the counter and stared at her. “Nothing.
Just thinking.” She approached the counter and stole another glance at
Matthew’s new muscular physic. He wasn’t the gangly boy who went off to Boston
four years ago. No, Matthew Quinn may
have left Nowhere a boy, but he’d most definitely come back a man.
A very handsome man …
“Have you started on a dress for the Valentine
dance, Charlotte?” Mrs. Quinn asked.
“Yes, Abbey and I both have. I’m making my own
this year.”
“Well now, isn’t that nice. How does Abbey
like being married?” Mrs. Quinn asked as she began to wrap some of Charlotte’s
purchases in brown paper. Matthew hopped off the ladder and handed her a bottle
of hair tonic.
Charlotte found herself staring at his hands.
“She’s adjusting to it. Billy and daddy get along fine, but …”
Mrs. Quinn leaned forward. “But?”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “Mother … she hasn’t adjusted to Abbey’s marriage
yet.”
“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Quinn smirked.
Charlotte caught sight of her curled lip, and
turned away.
Matthew swallowed hard. He decided, as he
searched for a bottle of Professor Pomadorie’s Hair Tonic, to ask Charlotte to
the Valentine’s dance. From the sounds of things, no one else would escort her,
which gave him the perfect opportunity.
“Er, Charlotte?”
She turned to him, her face softened. “Yes?”
“I was wondering … if you don’t happen to …
have an escort to the dance…”
Mrs. Quinn’s eyes narrowed at his stammering
just as Mrs. Riley burst through the mercantile’s doors. “She’s here!”
Charlotte and Matthew spun to her. Leona
Riley, Clayton and Spencer’s mother, grabbed the counter to catch her breath.
“Land sakes! I got the date wrong! She’s arriving now, this very minute!”
Mrs. Quinn gasped in delight and clapped her
hands together. “Oh, Leona! How
exciting!” She turned to Matthew and hugged him. He let go a small grunt as she crushed him to
her chest, and eyed an equally confused Charlotte.
“Oh, just think! Another wedding!” Mrs. Riley
said gaily.
“Wedding?” Charlotte choked out. “Who’s
wedding?”
Matthew managed to peel his mother off him.
“Yes, who’s getting married now?”
The matrons faced him, both with equally
enormous grins. “You are!” they said in perfect unison.
Matthew took a step back and stumbled. “What?!”
“Now before you go getting upset, hear your
mother out, dear.” Mrs. Riley consoled.
Matthew grabbed the counter if for nothing
else, to squelch the sudden urge to wring his mother’s neck. “Mother? What have
you done?”
“Matthew, you know I love you …” she began. “And after all, if things
worked out so well for Clayton and Spencer …”
Charlotte gasped. “You got Matthew a mail order bride?”
Mrs. Quinn turned to her. “Yes, but this is
none of your business, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s mouth opened in shock. “Excuse me?
In about ten minutes the whole town will know.”
“Only if you go around telling everyone!” she snapped
back.
“Mother, I’ll ask you not talk to Charlotte
that way.” Matthew interjected.
“Oh Matthew, you stay out of this,” his mother
said as she waved him away.
“Stay out of it? You ordered me a mail order bride without me telling me, and you’re asking me
to stay out of it?”
“I was talking to Charlotte,” she said in a
huff.
Charlotte gasped again. “Well, I never …” She
turned to Matthew. “I’d like my purchases, please.”
He gathered them up and was about to hand them
to her, when he remembered what he was doing before Mrs. Riley burst through
the door. “Charlotte, may I …” he looked his mother right in the eye before
turning back to her. “Escort you to the dance?”
“Matthew!” his mother cried. “You are not taking that … that … I got you a mail order bride!”
“Without
asking me!” he retorted.
Mrs. Quinn spun to her friend. “Leona! Do
something!”
“Oh, dear! My boys didn’t make such a fuss!”
Her eyes darted back and forth in recollection. “Well… maybe a little… but they
understood what drives a mother to do these things.”
“What? Have you gone out of your mind?”
Matthew’s voice cracked on the word mind,
which made him wonder. Did his
mother and Mrs. Riley not think he had one? “I appreciate the thought, but, you just can’t
go ordering a mail order bride without consulting me first.”
“Matthew, dear,” Mrs. Riley began. “You might
be upset now, but these things all come out right in the end. Why, by the time you’re married, I’m sure
you’ll be head over heels in love!”
Matthew’s mouth flopped open. “In love?”
Charlotte slowly backed away from the heated
argument. She’d had quite enough at this
point. Then …
“Heaven only knows if this town has any decent
women left in it to marry!” Mrs.
Quinn added. “Except maybe Charlotte here, but one can hardly call her de …”
She clamped her lips in a hard line. “I … I didn’t mean …”
“Mother …” Matthew warned.
“I’m sure you did mean it.” Charlotte said. “I
know what you think of me, Mrs. Quinn.” She turned to leave.
“Wait!” Matthew called after her. He ran out from
behind the counter to where she stood. “Charlotte, my mother didn’t mean what
she said.”
She looked up at him, her eyes full of regret.
“You’ve been away a long time, Matthew.” She let go a heavy sigh. “Your
mother’s right.”
Matthew stared down at her in disbelief.
“What?”
“Every town has their Harpy, Matthew,” she
told him then set her eyes on Mrs. Quinn. “I guess that makes me the Harpy of
Nowhere.”
“Charlotte, I did not call you a Harpy.” Mrs.
Quinn stated.
“Enough!” Matthew bellowed. He glanced from
one face to the next. “Women!” He turned to Charlotte. “You! You’re going to
the dance with me.”
Charlotte’s face lit up.
“I mean, may I escort you to the dance?” He
then spun on his mother. “And you! I don’t care who this woman is you thought I
needed. I am perfectly capable of
picking out my own bride! So whomever she is, send her back!”
The door to the mercantile closed with a loud
thud.
Everyone turned. A beautiful girl stood in
front of it, a satchel in her hand. She swallowed hard and gave Matthew a
tentative smile, and why not after witnessing such a tirade? “Ma … Matthew Quinn, I presume?”
Matthew stepped toward her. “Yes …” She was stunning,
and he couldn’t help admiring her beauty as she shivered by the door. But was
it from the cold, or his temper tantrum?
“I’m Seq … Rose. Rose Smith. Your mail order
bride.”
He froze, speechless, and stared at her like
some kind of idiot. He sensed, more than
saw the satisfied smirk on his mother’s face, as Mrs. Riley gasped in delight.
Charlotte looked the girl up and down, glanced
to Matthew, and headed for the door. “It appears you won’t be escorting me
after all, Matthew.” With that, she
walked right up to Miss Smith and said, “Welcome to Nowhere.” She then stormed
out of the mercantile, and quite possibly, out of Matthew’s life, forever.
