Mail Order Mistake Read online

  She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to answer. “I want you to forgive me more than anything. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’d take back the entire conversation if I could.” She would do anything to make things right between them if she just had an idea what the right thing would be.

  “But you meant you didn’t want to consummate the marriage right away, right?”

  She nodded sadly. “I did. I shouldn’t have, but I did. Please, I’m willing to make it right. Just tell me what to do.”

  He folded his newspaper, put it on the table and stood up. “I need to take Patrick’s horses and buggy back. I’ll be home later.”

  Malinda watched him go, wondering how she could make what she’d done right. He was a good man, and she wanted to have a good marriage with him. How could she make it happen, though? How long would he be angry with her?

  Chapter Six

  Malinda woke up as early as she could on Monday morning. She’d never been an early riser like Ellen, but she was determined to make her first week as a married woman a good one. She dressed quickly in the early morning light and stumbled into the kitchen. The only breakfast foods she knew how to make were scrambled eggs and pancakes, so she quickly started a fire in the stove and set the frying pan on it, before whipping several eggs with milk. There were fresh eggs and milk on the work table, though she wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Did they have egg and milk delivery here?

  She made a pot of coffee while the eggs and toast were cooking, hoping that he was a coffee drinker. She really had no idea of many of his personal habits, because they’d known each other for such a short period of time.

  She put six slices of bread into the oven to toast while she watched over the eggs. They came out fluffy and perfect, and she was buttering the toast when Wesley came in from outside. She poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table for him. Soon after, she had both plates with eggs and toast on the table and sank into the chair opposite him. She was pleased with how the first meal she’d cooked for him had come out.

  “Will you come home for lunch?” she asked softly as he was chewing his first bite of eggs. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him home or not. If he came home, she’d have to cook for him and she had no idea what she’d fix. If he didn’t, she’d be home alone in the big house all day.

  “I plan on it. I’ll go to the mercantile and get you a chicken to fry before I go to work this morning. Fried chicken is one of my favorite foods.”

  “I can get it myself if you need me to.” She was willing to do anything to make his life easier and make him happy with her.

  He shook his head. “I have time, and I don’t think you’ve been to the mercantile yet. It would be good if you could go out and explore town a little in the afternoons so you learn where everything is quickly. It’s a small town, so it should be easy to do.”

  “I’ll do that.” Whether she wanted to or not, if it would make him happy, she would do it.

  He finished his breakfast and pushed away from the table. “Breakfast was good.” He didn’t say another word as he put his hat on his head and left the house.

  Within twenty minutes he was back with a whole chicken. “Lunch” was all he said before he put it on the work table and left for work for the day.

  He hadn’t told her what time to have it ready, so she guessed noon would work. Now, how to cook a chicken? She’d helped Ellen do it more times than she could count, but never having done it herself, she wasn’t sure exactly what spices to use or even how to cut up the chicken. She stared down at it for a minute. What would he think if he came home to a raw chicken still lying on the work counter while she was off reading a book?

  She was suddenly inspired. Maybe there were cookbooks somewhere. She looked through every corner of the kitchen and rushed down the hall to the bedrooms. There were no books at all, let alone any cookbooks. Well, now what could she do? She stood for a moment staring at the chicken again, wishing she’d paid more attention when Ellen was cooking.

  There was a knock at the front door, so Malinda hurried to open it. Please let it be someone who can cook fried chicken. When she saw Ellen standing on her doorstep, she grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She threw her arms around her older sister. “He wants me to make fried chicken for lunch, and I have no clue how to fry a chicken. You always did it at home.” She looked at Ellen expectantly.

  “It’s good to be needed for something!” Ellen wrinkled her nose as she looked around the kitchen. It was just then that Malinda realized she hadn’t done the breakfast dishes yet. For that matter, there were still a few dishes from the previous evening she’d put in the sink but never washed. “We need to start by getting the kitchen cleaned. I’ll wash and you dry. So how are things going?”

  “He hates me. I told him I was sorry I asked for time before we consummated the marriage, and he said if he was that repulsive to me, then he didn’t want to touch me.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the food stuck to the plates from dinner the night before. She really should have done them before going to bed.

  “Well, let’s make him the best lunch he’s ever eaten, and you can beg his forgiveness.”

  Malinda eyed her sister. She knew she’d made a mistake, but she didn’t need her to rub it in. “You think it’s all my fault, don’t you!” It was all her fault, but her sister definitely didn’t need to be telling her that! Shouldn’t she be on my side all the time?

  Once they were done with the dishes, Ellen showed her how to cut up the chicken and season it. “Fried chicken is really very simple. It’s a flour based coating and we’ll just add a few spices to season it. Are you going to make potatoes with it?”

  Malinda hadn’t thought of that. “I have to make something with it?” How could she be so stupid? She knew they had to make something with it. What was wrong with her?

  “Where have you been all these years while we cooked together? Have we ever served only meat for a meal with no side dishes?”

  Malinda wanted to throw something at Ellen, but was afraid her sister would leave and stop helping her. “I’ve been doing whatever you told me to do. I’ve never really planned a meal or done it on my own. You were always there telling me what to do every single step of the way.” Did Ellen really think she knew how to cook and be the perfect homemaker?

  “I’m sorry. I should have made sure you knew how to do more things around the house.”

  Malinda shrugged. “I’ll make mashed potatoes. I know how to do that.” If she could just find the potatoes. She looked around vaguely.

  “Do you have any vegetables in the cellar?”

  Malinda hadn’t considered there must be a cellar somewhere. “Cellar?”

  “I’ll go look. Where are the potatoes?”

  “I don’t know!” She was starting to panic now. Her husband would hate her if she didn’t have his lunch ready when he got home.

  “They’re probably in the cellar too. Let’s go down and see what’s there.” Ellen looked under a rug and pointed to the trap door. “Grab a lantern.”

  Malinda found a lantern and lit it before descending the stairs with Ellen. “Good. You have a lot of food down here. Alice told me she sent canned goods home with Wesley every fall and wasn’t certain if he’d eaten them.”

  Malinda looked at the shelves lining the walls. They were filled with jars full of different fruits and vegetables. She saw Ellen remove some potatoes from a bin. “This will be enough for just the two of you,” Ellen said as she filled the skirt of her borrowed apron with potatoes.

  Ellen walked Malinda through frying the chicken, and Malinda took careful notes on a piece of paper she’d set next to the stove.

  While she fried the chicken, Ellen made the potatoes and cooked a jar of green beans. When she was finished with her part, Ellen disappeared down the hallway. Malinda was removing the last piece of chicken from the frying pan when Ellen came in. “Now all you need to do is mash the potatoes an
d make some gravy.”

  Malinda felt her heart sink. Ellen had always made the gravy like everything else. “Gravy?” She knew she sounded like an idiot, but she didn’t even know how to make gravy.

  Under Ellen’s tutelage, she managed a simple gravy. “Now you have a feast.” Ellen poured the prepared gravy into a bowl. “I’m going to go home now. You make things right with your husband. Make sure he knows that you care about him. It’s important.”

  “Will you come back after lunch?” Malinda was nervous about having to cook dinner. “Say around two? I might need more help.” Her eyes pled with Ellen to take pity on her and help her after lunch.

  Ellen nodded. “I’d be happy to, but only to show you how to do things. Neither of our husbands will be happy if I come over here every day to cook and clean when you’re supposed to be doing it.”

  While she waited for Wesley to come home, Malinda wandered through the house and looked at the work Ellen had done. Both of the beds were made neatly and the cushions on the sofa had been fluffed. Malinda got an old rag and dusted the furniture in the parlor before sweeping the wood floors throughout the house.

  Wesley came in at half past twelve and went straight to the kitchen to eat. Malinda hurried in to pull the food out of the oven where it had been warming and set it on the table. “How was your morning?” she asked, hoping to start a conversation.

  “Pretty quiet. Not much happening in town, but it’s a good thing when the sheriff doesn’t have a lot to do.”

  Malinda smiled. “Just don’t get shot, and I’ll stay happy.”

  “Chicken’s good,” he told her. “I thought you said you couldn’t cook?”

  “I’m learning as fast as I can.” She wondered if she should admit to the help she’d received, but decided not to lie to him. “Ellen helped.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

  He left immediately after lunch without telling her what to make for supper. She quickly washed the dishes, missing Ellen. Washing dishes was a task they had done together from the time Malinda was small. Even before their mother had died, the task of drying the dishes had been hers, and she’d always enjoyed working alongside Ellen to do it.

  When Ellen got back, she showed Malinda how to make a simple stew out of salt pork, potatoes and carrots. “Just bake some bread and a dessert to go with it, and you’re set for the night.” Ellen eyed Malinda. “Are you going to make it right?”

  Malinda shrugged. “As soon as I figure out how. Talking to him doesn’t work. I tried sitting beside him on the couch, but he got up and moved. I don’t know how to get his attention.” She could probably take all her clothes off and dance naked in front of him, but somehow she couldn’t see herself doing that.

  Ellen thought about it for a minute. “Well you need to think of something. It won’t be any fun to be married to brothers if you two are fighting all the time.”

  Malinda sighed, looking down at the floor. “I know. I’ll do my best.” She hated fighting with her husband. Why couldn’t she be the good wife Ellen was?

  Ellen kissed her sister’s cheek on her way out the door. “That’s all anyone asks. I’ll be back after breakfast tomorrow.”

  Malinda spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen baking bread and making a cherry pie from the fruit on the shelves in the cellar.

  When Wesley got home, he took a deep sniff of the air. “Something smells good!”

  “I like to call that something supper.” Malinda walked to Wesley and kissed his cheek. “I missed you today.” She hadn’t meant to say that to him, but the words just spilled out.

  He gave her a surprised look before sitting down. Malinda served the stew and fresh bread and butter. The pie was sitting on the work table, cooling.

  After they’d eaten dessert, she pushed him toward the parlor. “I’ll get the dishes done and then I’ll join you.” All day she’d done her best to think of a plan to get his undivided attention, and she thought she finally had one.

  Once the dishes were done, she walked into the parlor and saw that he’d chosen the arm chair to sit in, probably because he didn’t want her beside him again. She took the paper from him and sat in his lap before he had time to protest. After pressing quick kisses over his face, she pressed her mouth to his, kissing him passionately as he’d taught her. Her hands were on his shoulders, rubbing them through his shirt.

  He kissed her back, but continued to eye her warily as if trying to figure out what she was up to. Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, and slowly slipped them through the holes one by one. She didn’t want to have to invite herself into his bed, and this was the best way she could think of to show him she was interested in making their marriage a real one.

  Once his shirt was unbuttoned, she spread it wide, her hands sinking into the hair she found there. “I like touching you,” she whispered, meaning it with all her heart. She’d never disliked touching him, no matter how fearful she was of what would come after.

  “Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked.

  Malinda nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

  “Does this mean you want to be my wife?”

  She nodded, blushing. “I do. I’m very sorry I ever said otherwise.” Her hands were trembling as he set her on her feet and led her from the room.

  Her hand was in his as he pulled her down the hallway and into the first bedroom, which was on the left. He closed the door behind them and his fingers automatically went to the front of her dress, unbuttoning the buttons he found there. Within moments, she was standing in front of him in just her petticoats. His fingers found her nipple through the linen fabric and teased it to a point.

  “You have a beautiful body,” he whispered.

  “So do you.” Her fingers again tangled in his chest hair.

  He shrugged out of his shirt and dropped it to the floor, and then lowered the straps of her petticoat from her shoulders. Once she was naked, he lifted her and laid her on the side of the bed, coming down beside her. She could see he still had his slacks on and her nervousness faded away.

  He immediately began raining kisses across her face and chest, kissing her everywhere. When his mouth dipped and he pulled her nipple between his lips, she arched her back and cried out. How could she have been so afraid of something that felt so good?

  His mouth traveled up over her chest and back to her mouth, while one hand kept her damp nipple aroused. His other hand caught his weight as he lay on his side beside her. His tongue thrust into her mouth to mate with hers, his hand stroking down her side and into the small mound of curls shielding her sex.

  Wesley stroked his hand down between her legs and traced her inner thighs before traveling up to her core. One finger went to her nub, while another slowly slid inside her. She cried out against his mouth, suddenly afraid what they were doing was wrong. Was it okay for him to do that?

  She pushed against his shoulders. “Wait!”

  His breathing was heavy when he lifted his head, staring into her eyes. He deliberately moved his finger in and out as he watched the passion flare in her eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He almost laughed as he asked the question, because there was no doubt by her actions that she liked it a great deal.

  “I do like it, but that’s not what you’re supposed to put in me. Are you sure it’s okay to put your finger there?” She blushed as she asked the question, hoping he would tell her what he was doing was perfectly acceptable because she didn’t want him to stop.

  He smiled and his face lit up with amusement at her question. “If you like it and I like it, then it’s fine, because we’re married.”

  “Are you sure?” She loved how he was making her feel as his finger slowly moved in and out of her body, but she didn’t want to do anything that would be wrong in any way.

  “I’m positive. Just enjoy it, baby.” His lips drifted back down to hers, his tongue once again entering her mouth, while his finger sped up the rhythm, plunging in and out of her q
uickly.

  Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders as she held on while she waited for whatever was building inside her to happen. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Harriett hadn’t explained that part, but she knew it was something good. Something she wanted.

  Finally she burst, crying out her pleasure at the sensations washing through her body. How could something that felt this good be the thing she’d been so afraid of?

  He stood beside the bed, and unfastened his belt. She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she could tell what he was doing by the rustling sounds. She heard his pants drop to the floor, and then the bed dipped from the other side as he climbed in beside her. His hands stroked over her body and his mouth went again to her nipple, the other one this time, stroking it with his tongue.

  “I want you,” he whispered against her breast. After a moment, he lifted his head and stared into her eyes in the now dark room. “I want to make you my wife.”

  She nodded, the fear rushing at her again. This time it wouldn’t be his finger inside her. Would she be able to take the pain? “I want you to, but I’m scared.”

  “I’ll be as careful as I can be,” he whispered before he rolled atop her and his legs went between hers. His hand reached down to guide his member between her legs and to her entrance. He pushed against her and she held onto his shoulders. clutching them hard, afraid of what was about to happen. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain.

  He moved into her slowly, being certain to take his time and not hurt her. He groaned as he felt her body clenched tightly around him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he thrust past her maidenhead and pressed his lips to hers.

  She let out a gasp of pain against his lips and then lay still, moving slightly beneath him as she got used to the feeling of fullness inside her. She’d had no idea she hadn’t felt complete before that moment, but having him inside her made her feel like a part of her had been missing her entire life. Yes, there had been a slight pain, but it was gone almost immediately. It wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected it to be.