Mail-Order Miranda (Brides of Beckham) Read online

  Miranda’s throat tightened. Oh, if only she could see her one more time ... “She’s in Heaven.”

  “With Mama?” Hope asked. “Does she know Mama?”

  Miranda caught a glimpse of John out of the corner of her eye. He’d stopped stirring the stew in the pot and was watching them.

  Miranda smiled faintly. “Maybe. They might be friends now. I like to think so. Don’t you?”

  Hope nodded. “Like we are, right Ellie?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Miranda plastered a smile on her lips. She didn’t want the girls to dwell on sadness. “Now, we’d better get back to work. If we don’t hurry and finish the pies, there won’t be time to have a piece before supper.”

  ***

  John closed the ledger on his desk and leaned back in the chair, his gaze drifting to the other side of the room where Hope was sitting on the floor between Miranda’s legs while Miranda brushed her hair. In the soft light of the lamp on the table beside her, Miranda’s eyes sparkled and her face glowed. Ellie sat on the floor beside Hope, playing with her doll. Miranda had already brushed her hair and braided it for bed.

  Life was good, he realized. When he’d lost Nancy, he’d thought he’d never be able to be happy again. But over the past few weeks, ever since Miranda had come into his life, he’d found himself smiling more and even laughing again.

  She’d worked a miracle with the girls, too. The children he thought he’d lost when Nancy died were back, giggling and playing like they should – at least when Aunt Ruth wasn’t there. He’d seen over and over again how quiet they were when his aunt was there and how they opened up and enjoyed being with Miranda when she wasn’t.

  He’d have to deal with it eventually, but how could he tell the woman who’d helped him so much that she was no longer needed?

  “You and Ellie have such beautiful hair,” Miranda said. “Every girl in school is going to be so jealous of you.”

  Ellie stopped brushing Rapunzel’s hair and looked up at Miranda. “What if the other girls at school don’t like us and don’t want to be friends with us?”

  Miranda smiled. “Of course they’ll want to be friends with you. Why wouldn’t they? You’re beautiful, wonderful girls. You’re kind and sweet and friendly. I bet by the time you get home tomorrow you’ll have lots of new friends.”

  Hope twisted around to look up at Miranda. “But maybe the teacher won’t like us—”

  “If you’re well-behaved and polite, just like I know you will be, your teacher will like you. I promise. Now let me finish braiding your hair and then you can go and get your nightgowns on for bed.”

  Fifteen minutes later, when Hope and Ellie were tucked into bed, John got up from the desk. “Are you sure that was wise?” he asked.

  Miranda looked up from the sock she was darning. “What was?”

  “Praising the girls so much,” he said. “It is wise to praise them so much?”

  Miranda frowned and wove her sewing needle into the sock and rested it on her lap. “You’d rather I criticize them?”

  “Well ... no ...”

  “Oh, just tell them their faults and that they aren’t worth anything?”

  “Now you’re being ridiculous—”

  “Am I?” Miranda interrupted.

  John could tell by the sharp tone of her voice and the tension in her hands in her lap that he’d hit a sore spot. “Then obviously you didn’t hear that when you were growing up.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he said. “I’m taking it that you did.”

  Miranda let out a breath. “Almost every day,” she said. “I wasn’t pretty enough, I wasn’t tiny enough, I was clumsy, I was stupid. I’d never amount to anything. Shall I go on?”

  John shook his head. “I’m sorry—”

  “It wasn’t that my mother didn’t love me. I’m sure she did, and I’m sure she thought that by telling me what was wrong with me, I’d fix my faults.” She let out a small laugh. “But some things were out of my control. I was never small and dainty like my sister and no matter how much I – or my mother – wanted me to be, it was impossible.”

  Being treated the way Miranda had been all her life, it was a wonder to John that she’d grown into such a sweet and caring woman.

  “I want Hope and Ellie to grow up to be confident strong women, not women who aren’t happy with themselves.”

  “If they get too full of themselves, they’ll be insufferable and they’ll never get husbands.”

  Miranda made a sign of a cross above her heart. “I won’t let that happen.”

  John gazed at her, his heart swelling with emotion he was sure he’d never feel again. He cared about Miranda more than he’d allowed himself to admit, even to himself. She’d come into his life and taken him and his children as her own and treated them with nothing but kindness. And she’d brought light into the darkness that had overtaken them all.

  “I won’t,” she repeated.

  He smiled at her and nodded. It occurred to him suddenly that he trusted her. Completely. And if he wasn’t real careful, he’d find himself falling in love with her, too. If he hadn’t already …

  ***

  Breakfast wasn’t the leisurely meal it usually was the next morning. John had decided to open the diner a little later than usual so that he could see the girls off on their first day of school.

  Miranda bustled about, realizing this would be the routine every morning now that the girls were going to school.

  She glanced at the clock. The girls had to leave in ten minutes, and neither of them had finished eating. “Hurry, girls,” she said. “You don’t want to be late on your first day.”

  Ellie drained her milk and she was shoveling a mouthful of pancakes into her mouth when the door opened and Ruth marched in.

  “Ellie!” Ruth spat out before she’d even taken her hat off. “What have I told you about stuffing food into your mouth?”

  Ellie swallowed quickly. For a moment, Miranda was terrified Ellie would choke. Luckily, she didn’t, and she hurried away before Ruth could say anything more. Miranda was annoyed. She shouldn’t be, she supposed, but for some reason, she’d assumed that since the twins were going to school, Ruth wouldn’t be stopping by. Whenever it had come up, Ruth had reasoned that she was helping to look after the girls. So why now? Miranda didn’t need anyone to look after her.

  She managed to keep quiet until the girls left for school, but as soon as the door closed behind them, she knew she couldn’t hold her tongue a minute longer. She didn’t want to get into a confrontation with Ruth, mostly because she knew she’d end up feeling terrible, but she’d been looking forward to having some time to herself, to taking care of her own home, and even going to the café to help John in the afternoons when she had time.

  Now it seemed she’d never have a minute without Ruth’s critical eyes on her.

  “I’m surprised to see you this morning,” she said to Ruth as she cleared the breakfast dishes from the table.

  “Why?”

  “Now that the girls are in school—”

  “There’s still work to be done here, and I doubt you can handle it all yourself.”

  Miranda bristled. “Before I married John, I was a housekeeper in a mansion back east. I do know how to clean a house.”

  “Were there no other maids?” Ruth asked, emphasizing the word maids. “Surely you didn’t do everything.”

  “But I did,” Miranda assured her. Yes, she was stretching the truth, but only a little. In the Tolliver house, she’d mainly been responsible for the fireplaces and the downstairs rooms, but cleaning was cleaning.

  “Well then … it looks like I’m not wanted here any longer …”

  Miranda struggled to contain the sigh that threatened to escape. Ruth knew exactly how to manipulate people. That much was plain to see. But Miranda was not going to be manipulated one second longer. “Of course you are,” Miranda said, hoping God wouldn’t strike her down for the lie. “And John and I appreciate everything
you’ve done for him and the girls. You gave up so much to help him.”

  “That’s true,” Ruth agreed. “I gave up everything, and let me tell you, it was difficult. I had to sacrifice my work with the church, the Ladies’ Society—”

  “And I’m sure your friends miss you terribly.”

  Ruth nodded. “They do. Why, I haven’t had luncheon with them in months.”

  Miranda plastered a gentle smile on her face. “Then you should take the time to enjoy yourself again. Without your help, I’ll be much busier, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I get too far behind in my chores.”

  “Well … I do miss my friends and my charity work. Why, just the other day, the Benevolent Society asked for my help …”

  A few minutes later, the door closed behind Ruth and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Nicely done,” John said with a grin.

  “Thank you,” she said, returning his smile. “Working for the Tollivers gave me plenty of practice smoothing ruffled feathers. They were the most unhappy family I’ve ever known.”

  “You almost made it sound like it was Aunt Ruth’s idea.”

  “I hope so. Now, you’d better hurry yourself or your customers will be hammering at the door.”

  John bounded up and crossed to give her a quick peck before he left. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, grabbing his hat off the hook behind the door.

  “If I get my chores finished early, I’ll come and help you if that’s okay.”

  He paused and smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Miranda’s heart swelled. He was growing to care for her. She knew it. If only she could figure out how to make him love her, her life would be perfect.

  Chapter 11

  The days flew by and Miranda settled into a routine. The weather was getting colder, and John had told her that soon, they would likely have snow.

  Most days, as soon as the girls left for school in the morning, she hurried through her chores, prepared supper to be cooked later and spent the afternoons at the café working with John. Often, in the evenings, she’d take her needles and yarn out of the basket beside her chair and sit knitting quietly while John read or caught up on the accounting for the café.

  She was happy … well, as happy as she could be without John’s love. While she still had moments when grief overtook her, those times were becoming less and less, and even a few times she managed to think of her sister with a smile.

  She still missed Lily, too, but she hoped that one day, she’d have a friend like her in Sapphire Springs. She was quickly becoming friends with Rosita and Poppy, but even so, it wasn’t the same as having a friend who’d known you since you were a young girl.

  After discussing it with John, she’d written to Lily a month before and invited her to come to Texas, either for a visit or to stay.

  Miranda hummed to herself as she hurried down the street toward the café. She’d stopped at the post office and found a reply. Unable to wait until she was home to read Lily’s letter, she’d perched on the edge of the bench in front of the post office and ripped the envelope open.

  Lily wrote that Mrs. Tolliver had found out she’d given Miranda the newspaper and fired her, too. Luckily, a new family had moved in nearby and she’d found another position almost immediately. She also wrote that if Miranda ever wanted to come back, there would be a position waiting for her.

  Miranda had no desire to go back to Beckham. Other than her grief over losing her sister, she was happy. She loved her children, her new home, and her new husband.

  She continued reading the letter, and excitement filled her when she read that Lily was planning to visit in the spring. Hopefully, she’d decide to stay and maybe even find a husband, too.

  John looked up from the dough he was shaping and gave her a wide smile when she opened the door to the diner a few minutes later.

  She knew John appreciated the help, and even though she’d never told him, she was happiest when she was with him. There was no question in her mind that what she felt for him was love. Not that she’d ever been in love before, but what else could it be? She wanted to spend every minute of her life with him. If only he felt the same way.

  There had been times over the past few weeks that she’d caught him looking at her, a strange expression on his face. As soon as she met his gaze, though, he quickly looked away.

  Was he sorry he’d married her? She couldn’t help but wonder since he’d never made any advances toward her since their wedding night. Yes, he kissed her before he left the house in the morning and he kissed her goodnight, but those were nothing more than mere brushes of his lips against hers. He made sure no other part of him touched her in any way.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today,” he commented, interrupting her thoughts. “Weren’t you planning to visit with Poppy and Rosita?”

  “Poppy’s father-in-law is under the weather again, so she had to go out to his farm to take him something to eat, so we decided to postpone until tomorrow.” She untied her bonnet and took her coat off, hanging them both on the hook beside the back door.

  “Why he doesn’t just move in with them is beyond me,” John said, taking the tray of rolls and sliding them into the oven. “It would be a lot easier for Poppy and Tom to take care of him.”

  “It would,” she agreed. “Now, I’ll clear the tables and then I’ll make a pot of chicken and dumplings if you like.”

  “I know my dinner customers would like that,” he said. “I think they’ve started coming more for your cooking than mine.”

  Miranda chuckled. “We each have our own dishes, and between the two of us, I think they’re happy no matter who’s cooking.”

  John wiped his hands on his apron, his gaze searing her. “We’re good together, you and I.”

  Her breath stuck in her throat. Yes, they were good together in the café, and she was convinced they could be even better together, if only he didn’t find her so unattractive.

  Maybe if she was slim, like Poppy. Or prettier. Or …

  An idea formed in her mind. She couldn’t do anything to make herself prettier. Her hair was still a drab brown, her freckles still dotted her nose, and her features were still too large, in her opinion.

  But she could do something about her weight. Would he love her if she was thinner? She didn’t know, but it was worth trying.

  Starting today, she decided, she’d stop eating so much, and if that’s what it took for him to love her, she was willing to starve herself until she was thin enough that he’d want a real marriage.

  ***

  Something wasn’t right.

  John cast a glance in Miranda’s direction. For the past four days, Miranda had barely eaten anything at all. She still cooked their meals, but lately she had one excuse or another why she wasn’t eating. Tonight, she’d told him she’d snacked so much while she was preparing the roast beef and vegetables that she was already full.

  If she was sick … Memories flooded him. Nancy’s illness had started the same way, with a loss of appetite and fatigue so severe she could barely get out of bed. Then came the pain, pain so excruciating that she’d pleaded with him to put her out of her misery. And then, finally, her suffering ended.

  Was it possible …?

  “Are you sick?” he asked. “Is that why you’re not eating?”

  She glanced up from the bowl of whipped cream she was setting on the table. “No. Not at all. I feel fine.”

  Something in her eyes told him she wasn’t telling him the truth. But why would she lie? Unless she was trying to protect him? He’d talked to her about Nancy’s illness, about how devastated he’d been watching her suffer and not being able to do anything about it. Was Miranda sick and she didn’t want him to go through the worry again?

  His insides twisted and his throat tightened. He couldn’t lose another woman he loved.

  The realization that he’d fallen in love with Miranda hit him so suddenly that he sucked in a breath and promptly choked on a pas
try crumb.

  “Lift your arms, Papa,” Ellie commanded. “Like this.” Through his tear-filled eyes, he saw Ellie raising her arms over her head.

  He coughed and sputtered but did as he was told until finally the crumb dislodged itself from his throat.

  “Are you all right?” Miranda asked, handing him a glass of water.

  He nodded. “I’m fine,” he said which was so far from the truth it was an outright lie.

  He ate the rest of his pie in silence, then got up and crossed to the door. He took his hat off the hook and planted it on his head. “I need some fresh air,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  Miranda frowned, but said nothing. He was glad of that. He didn’t want to have to explain why he needed to get away. He needed to think, to make sense of the sudden revelation he’d had. And he needed to figure out what he was going to do about it.

  Nothing had worked out the way he’d planned. He’d sent for a woman who could look after his home and raise his girls. Nothing more.

  He’d loved Nancy deeply. He’d liked her, too, and they’d gotten along well, hardly ever having a disagreement.

  But even though he didn’t want to admit it, even to himself, he liked Miranda more than anybody he’d ever met, even Nancy. She worked harder than most men he knew and he’d never heard her complain. She had a ready smile and a kind word for everybody she met, and most of all, she made him feel that he could conquer the world if he had a mind to.

  If he lost Miranda, too, he’d never survive it.

  ***

  Miranda stood at the window and watched as John disappeared around the corner. Where was he going? To the saloon? To find a woman?

  She knew men had physical needs. Since he didn’t come to her, she assumed he was going elsewhere to take care of those needs with another woman. He went out every Friday after supper. He was never gone more than an hour and when she’d asked where he went, all he told her was that he went for walks to get fresh air since he was indoors all week.

  A lump of sadness clogged her throat. She was so hungry, and it seemed it would take weeks before she was thin enough to make him want her that way.