Marcail looked very surprised at this announcement. What she couldn’t know was that the fear Alex saw on her face was enough to stop him in his tracks. The last thing he wanted was to scare her, and since she’d already been doing a fine job of that herself, he knew that his next words, although difficult, were necessary.
“I want you to take the bedroom, and I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.”
“Do you mean that?”
Alex nodded, seeing that he’d instantly freed her from a load of fear. He moved toward the bedroom, intending to clear some dresser drawers for her, but spun back on her softly spoken “No.”
“I mean,” Marcail explained to Alex’s shocked countenance, “that you should stay in the bedroom and I’ll take the sofa.”
“No, I think—” Alex began to protest, but Marcail forestalled him.
“It’s silly for you to be on a sofa that’s obviously too small for you. I would fit very nicely, and I won’t put you out of your bed.”
Alex was shaking his head, and Marcail asked him a question that settled the entire argument.
“How well did you sleep on the sofa the night I was here?”
Alex opened his mouth and then shut it again. She was right, but he wanted to make her feel comfortable and at home, and he knew she would have less privacy in the living room.
Marcail could see she had won, and with a decisive nod of her head took her bag into the living room and set it next to the sofa.
twenty-four
Marcail was up, dressed, and out of the house Monday morning before Alex stirred. It felt odd for her to wake up in his home, and Marcail, not knowing Alex’s schedule, had been careful not to wake him. She skipped breakfast in order to be quiet, but she had packed some bread and two cookies for lunch.
As she moved toward the schoolhouse, Marcail skirted the sloppy areas of the road where the snow had melted into giant puddles. She prayed that her class would arrive as Alex predicted. Questions ran through her mind about what she would do if the children didn’t show, but she prayed and gave her worry to God every time it reared its ugly head.
The stove was a bit stubborn, but Marcail was determined to ward off the chill in the air. The logs had finally lit when Alex walked in and joined her by the stove. Marcail felt herself blushing, although she didn’t know why.
“Good morning.” Alex’s voice had that distinct early morning growl.
“Good morning.”
“Do you always come to school this early?” he asked his new wife.
“Only on Mondays. The stove hasn’t been lit all weekend, and I usually need a little more time.”
“It didn’t look as though you had any breakfast or even coffee. Were you afraid of waking me?”
Marcail looked uncomfortable. “I’ll be all right, and I have some bread for lunch.”
“Maybe we should sit down tonight and compare schedules. I like to get up early, and I never intended for you to walk all this way in the mud.”
“Please don’t feel like you need to give me a ride, Alex. I really didn’t mind the walk.”
Alex didn’t reply right away. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Have a good time with the kids today.”
With that, Alex cupped Marcail’s jaw in his long-fingered hand and placed a kiss on the tiny mole that sat at the corner of her mouth. He had kissed her the same way moments after they’d been pronounced husband and wife.
Alex didn’t look back as he left or he’d have found his wife watching him, her lower lip tucked neatly between her teeth, and her finger on the spot he’d just kissed.
It took most of the day for Marcail to really believe that her marriage had brought her students back to school. Her classroom was full, and other than a slight change in Sydney’s disposition, things were as usual.
She told the children her new name and wrote it on the blackboard. Except for Sydney, very few children made mistakes with her new name as the day progressed. Marcail knew he wasn’t even trying to call her by her married name.
It had never occurred to Marcail that the 11-year-old’s infatuation with her would cause him to experience such violent jealousy, but it became suddenly evident with the way he grew angry when she gave special attention to any of the other boys. Now that she had married, he was becoming impossible.
Marcail was filled with compassion for the way he felt, but she knew she had to redevelop the respect they’d shared in weeks past. She decided to give him a few more days before she took him aside to insist that he call her Mrs. Montgomery.
The day flew by as Marcail knew it would, and just as she was dismissing the children, Alex came in the door. Most of her students greeted him cordially and by name. Marcail was amazed at how accepting they all seemed of the situation.
“I came by to give you a ride home,” Alex offered. He knew he was staring, but Marcail appeared as fresh to him as she had been that morning, and he knew she’d just taught 19 children for seven hours.
“I appreciate the offer, but I was planning to walk into town. There are a number of things I—that is, we—need.” It felt a little funny to be discussing this with Alex, but Marcail knew she was going to have to get used to it, and he didn’t seem to notice her slip.
“All right,” Alex agreed. “I’ll walk with you, but then I need to return to the office. When you are finished, come by.”
Marcail agreed and after gathering her things, preceded Alex out the door. They didn’t talk much on the way into town, and Alex touched her arm by way of farewell when he left her at the door of the bank.
Marcail had to stand in line at the teller’s window. She couldn’t see around the tall man in front of her, but as soon as he moved, she was surprised to see that no one was there to help her. She waited only a moment before Mr. Flynn himself came from the rear of the bank.
“How are you, Mrs. Montgomery?” He hesitated over the name, but his eyes sought hers, begging her to understand his position.
“I’m doing very well, Mr. Flynn,” Marcail told him graciously, even though she disagreed with the way he had handled things. She could see that her words lifted a burden of guilt from his shoulders, and he told her he would handle her transaction himself.
“I need three dollars from my account,” Marcail explained. “And then I’d like you to close my account and move my money into Dr. Montgomery’s account. I haven’t checked with Alex, but is it all right to add my name to his account?”
“It’s fine.” Mr. Flynn’s voice was hoarse, but Marcail didn’t notice. For some reason, Marcail’s request to join her funds to her husband’s touched him deeply. His wife had told him she thought Miss Donovan was a very special young woman who deserved to be treated better than she was. Now he was convinced of it himself.
Marcail’s next stop was Vesperman’s General Store. She shopped carefully, thinking that she didn’t really know Alex’s tastes. Figuring she couldn’t go wrong with the essentials, Marcail opted for flour, sugar, salt, soda, coffee, rice, and yeast. Her last item was a tin of salted peanuts. She knew it was an extravagance, but Marcail was in the mood to bake and knew these would be good in cookies.
The street was quite slushy, but Marcail took a long route to Alex’s office and avoided most of the mud. She wasn’t thrilled about being there, but with her hand on the door, she took a deep breath and went inside.
twenty-five
Marcail stood very still and looked around the small waiting room without really seeing anything. Her heart thundered in her chest, and even though she told herself to calm down, fear gripped her. She tried to examine the reason for her anxiety, but as in the past, the only thing that came to mind was her mother’s face.
It wasn’t at all logical, but for so many years it seemed to Marcail that it was the doctor’s fault her mother had died. They had been a happy, settled family. Then, when Marcail was nine, the doctor had come to see Mother. He hadn’t caused her illness, but he had diagnosed it, and Marcail had struggled for years to believe that
none of her mother’s rapid decline had been his fault. To this day she was terrified of doctors and everything relating to them.
Maybe her sister hadn’t handled the situation very well; maybe Kaitlin should have insisted that Marcail see a doctor when she was sick. But because the mere mention of a visit from this dreaded man was enough to make any condition Marcail had worse, Katie had never insisted she go. Instead Katie herself talked with the doctor to find out how to treat her. Thankfully, there had never been anything more serious than a bee sting or a spring cold.
Now she found herself not only standing in the Willits’ doctor’s office, but actually married to the doctor himself.
“Hi.”
Marcail jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice and wondered from where he had materialized.
“You looked lost in thought just then.”
“I guess I was,” Marcail answered as her gaze roamed the room. “I’m still getting used to the idea of being married to a doctor.” Marcail didn’t realize how that might have sounded until it was out of her mouth. Her gaze flew to Alex, but he was smiling.
“You’re not easily offended, are you?” Marcail asked softly, more to herself than anyone else.
“No, I’m not,” Alex answered, having heard her clearly. “As I said before, I like your honesty. Come, I’ll take you home.”
As with the few times she had ridden with Alex, Marcail tried to make herself as comfortable as possible without leaning on her new husband. Alex, however, had clearly tired of her trying to put space between them. His chest and arms surrounded her as he held the reins in an easy hold. Marcail wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but the ride was brief, and she wasn’t forced to examine her feelings too closely.
Alex tied Kelsey at the door and walked his wife inside. Marcail put her basket on the table and was removing her coat when she noticed that the furniture had been rearranged.
The kitchen table was closer to the bedroom door than it had been, and Marcail could not see the living room sofa from where she stood. She stepped into the living room and her eyes widened with surprise.
The small sofa was on another wall, giving Marcail’s “bed” almost complete privacy from the kitchen area. One of the wardrobes had been moved from the bedroom along with a small chest of drawers. Alex had done a nice job of fitting in the added pieces to go with the tables, chair, and bookshelf. In short, he had given Marcail a very private area for sleeping and dressing.
“I put your blanket and pillow in the bottom of the wardrobe. That little dresser was in the barn, so you might want to wipe it out.”
Marcail turned to the man who spoke softly behind her. “Thank you, Alex.”
“You’re welcome. I have to get back to the office, but I’ll be home around 5:00.”
He left then, and Marcail stood for a long time at the window watching him go. He was nothing whatever like she had imagined. What kind of man stepped in to rescue a woman in need and then rearranged his home to suit her when she was little more than a stranger?
No answers came to mind. Marcail knew that she could stand there all day and speculate, but that would accomplish nothing. With a determined stride she attacked her basket of groceries, putting everything away. She started supper, and then moved to the living room to settle her clothing in the dresser drawers and wardrobe.
The now-familiar headache was beginning, and Marcail had to stop herself from ripping the pins from her hair. Both she and Alex were swiftly losing all privacy, and Marcail couldn’t dispel the feeling that she would be further embarrassed in front of Alex if he came home and her hair was down.
No one in Willits, save Allie and her mother, had ever seen her hair down, but Marcail knew that at least part of the reason for her maintaining the severe style lay elsewhere. She looked very young without the piles of thick hair atop her head.
But headache or no, there was work to be done, and Marcail set about her tasks. By the time Alex came in the door, supper was ready and Marcail’s personal effects were all put away. They ate in companionable silence. After Alex helped with the dishes, he asked Marcail to come back to the table so they could discuss their schedules.
“Do you feel all right?” were the first words from Alex.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Marcail answered him without thought.
What she didn’t realize was that her pain showed on her face. Her forehead was slightly furrowed, and her eyes told Alex that she was tired, worried, or in some type of pain. He knew he couldn’t push her, but he honestly wished she would tell him what was wrong.
Indeed, it was a good thing that Alex didn’t push her, because Marcail wouldn’t have known what he was talking about. Since she couldn’t always take her hair down when she liked, her headaches had become a way of life with her. Had Alex pressed her, she’d have lost some of the ease she was beginning to feel around him.
“Now, about our schedules,” Alex began, and they sat for over an hour comparing times and preferences for the weeks to come.
Alex’s schedule was much more flexible, so he told Marcail he would be taking her to school and bringing her home each day, at least until the roads dried out.
They found that they both liked to go to bed at the same time and, with the exception of Saturday morning, got up within a half hour of each other. Marcail brought up the problem of disturbing Alex if she moved about in the kitchen. His response was a broad smile.
“If your banging around means that I get to wake up to a hot cup of coffee, you can bang all you want. At least I don’t have to worry about waking you.”
Marcail looked uncomfortable. “You know about that, do you?”
“Um hm. In fact, you scared me a little the night of the snowstorm. I kept checking your breathing to see if you were still with me.”
“I sleep very soundly,” Marcail explained unnecessarily.
“That, my sweet Marcail,” Alex told her with a chuckle, “is a gross understatement.”
Marcail couldn’t help but smile in return. “My brother loves telling people how soundly Katie and I sleep. His favorite story is about the time he held me by my feet one night, my head nearly brushing the floor, and I slept through the whole thing.”
“I can believe it. When I carried you to bed that night, I thought you would wake the moment I placed you against those cool sheets, but you only curled into a ball and slept the night away.”
A faint blush began to cover Marcail’s cheeks, and Alex’s eyes sparkled impishly. “I have a sister who blushes as easily as you do, and I think I’d better warn you, my brothers and I tease the life out of her just to see it happen.”
Alex shouted with laughter when Marcail’s face became even redder. He watched as she bit her lip and sobered instantly.
“What does that worried look mean?”
“I’ve just never thought about meeting your family. I mean, I didn’t realize you had a family.” Marcail realized how silly that sounded as soon as she said it, but as she was coming to expect, Alex was amused.
“You must think that doctors crawl out from beneath rocks.”
His words brought such a hysterical image to mind that a small laugh escaped Marcail before she could muffle it.
“So you think that’s funny?” Alex tried to look indignant.
Marcail shook her head, but her eyes were brimming with laughter, and Alex would have been a fool to believe her.
“Well, you can laugh now, but I can tell you they’ll show no mercy the first time they see those rosy cheeks.”
Alex watched as Marcail suddenly grew very serious. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what he’d said wrong when she spoke.
“Will they like me, Alex? I mean, your family. Will they be disappointed that you’ve married someone they don’t know?”
“No.” Alex’s voice was now as serious as hers. “They’ll love you the first time you meet. It’s true that they’re all a big bunch of jokers, but their hearts are warm and caring. You’ll be taken into their heart
s and lives as though you’d been there all along.”
Marcail nodded, wanting so much to believe him, but still feeling uncertain. “How big is your family?”
“I’m the youngest of five. I have two brothers and two sisters. They’re all married with children. My oldest sister and I are the only ones who live away from our hometown.”
“And your folks—are they still living?”
“Yes, my father has been a doctor in Fort Bragg for years.”
“Fort Bragg? That’s out on the coast, isn’t it?”
“Right. I think you’ll like it when we get there. We have to take the logging train when we go, but once there, it’s a great little place.”
“Are we going soon?” Marcail asked tentatively, thinking it sounded like they were leaving in the morning.
“About ten days,” Alex said with a wide-eyed look, realizing how presumptuous he’d been. “I always go home the weekend before my birthday. I just assumed you would go with me. I’m sorry I didn’t check with you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’d like to meet your family; that is, if they really won’t mind our being married and—”
Alex shook his head, and Marcail stopped.
“It’s a long ride on the train, Marcail. I was wondering if you would have a problem with my asking Stan Flynn if you could have two days off?”
Marcail looked surprised, but didn’t deny his request.
“I thought we would leave first thing Friday morning. That puts us in Fort Bragg in the afternoon, and I thought we’d come home on Monday.”
“I don’t have a problem with it. It would be a nice break, but I don’t know how Mr. Flynn will feel.” Marcail sounded as dubious as she felt.
“I’ll talk to him. He knows he can be honest with me. Since I know he feels partly responsible for our being married, I somehow doubt he would deny us a little time away.”
Marcail agreed, and they continued to talk for a while longer. She found out Alex’s exact birthday and that he was going to be 31. With her birthday coming in March, it wasn’t hard to figure that he was almost exactly 11 years older than she was. Marcail wasn’t sure how she felt about that.