The other man just stared, speechless. “Well, as my old grandpappy used to say—I’ll be a cross-eyed jackrabbit,” he finally said, half grinning at the memory. Then, sobering, he asked, “So…does this mean you’re leaving to go to Nebraska and be with her—or is she going to come here?”
Dwight gave another shrug. “Neither. It’s…um…it’s a temporary marriage…kind of like in name only…” he added, looking the man straight in the face.
Richard shook his head and rounded his desk again, plopping down in the chair. “Hmm…well, all I can say is, if you stick around, what’s going to stop the Haldemans from finding out you don’t have a wife in residence? They’ll think you’re lying.”
Dwight waved off his employer’s concern with a flick of his hand. “Nah, I’m not worried. I’ve doused that fire. Shoot, I doubt I’ll hear from Miss Haldeman or her father again,” he declared with certainty.
However, as he exited the building to go back out and scout for fares, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered the opposite…
Sure enough, Dwight’s assurance and bravado fell by the wayside as the days progressed and his inner voice proved sadly to be true.
Everywhere he turned during his daily roaming for fares in his cab, it seemed the girl was there. It became almost comical, and yet eerily bizarre, when he would see her several times a day, at different places, trying to hail his taxi.
On one occasion outside the train depot she had come charging up to his vehicle from out of nowhere, skirts flapping and brandishing her parasol like a club. She proceeded to yell at him in front of his fares—a married couple from out of town—that she knew he didn’t have a wife living in his house with his mother and sisters, and wanted to know why he had lied to her! She must have been paying helpers to spy on him. Then, she had cried and attempted to cajole him to marry her and make an honest woman of her.
He couldn’t believe it. All he could do was stand there flummoxed as his paying customers climbed back out of the cab and told him they would find other transportation to their hotel.
This went on and on, along with other much more grasping tactics. She sent notes to his home. Sent him presents, such as neckties and even an expensive pocket watch—all of which he promptly returned. Penelope seemed to be enjoying herself at his expense and it didn’t look as if she would tire of the game anytime soon.
To say that she was getting under his skin would be the understatement of the year. His boss had even felt the brunt of it, as customers and witnesses reported the unusual happenings or complained about the unsettling scenes. Mr. Harrington told him, in no uncertain terms that he was to come up with a solution to the problem, or else.
Finally, one night at dinner, as he ranted and raved about the situation and dearly wished he could wring the neck of Penny the Pest, Pearl calmly held up a hand to stop his tirade and suggested an alternative if he wanted to keep his sanity.
“Son, I think I have the perfect solution. Mrs. Fetterman told me today that she and the children are going to Brownville to spend a few weeks with her family before the children’s school year starts up again, and she’s asked me and the girls to come along.” His sisters squealed with pleasure at the news as his mother added, “I told her we would. Now, it seems to me that there is only one thing you can do to get out from under this situation with the Haldeman girl. You’ll simply have to join us—and your wife—in Nebraska.”
A week later, he found himself on a train, once again pulling out of the Louisville terminal and headed across the Fourteenth Street Bridge.
The question was…how was Mary going to react when she saw him?
Two weeks had passed since she had become Mary Amelia Christiansen. To say that it had been two weeks of confusing feelings, shame and embarrassment, along with blessings and unexpected happenings, would be putting it mildly.
August 1st dawned bright and hot, and after what had become her new normal—dealing with the dreaded morning sickness—Mary stepped out of the doctor’s home where she was now residing, and headed down the street.
Doc Reeves, she had discovered, lived alone—other than Wanda Mae, his housekeeper and cook—in a large, beautiful, brick home farther down Main Street. The dear man had declared that it would be better for all concerned if Mary were to move into one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, in said home, rather than continue to live in the dingy hotel room where she’d been staying since her rather ignominious arrival in Brownville.
He had confided to Mary that he was oftentimes lonely since his wife died years before, and that they had never been blessed with the children they had so hoped to have one day. They’d built the big house and had everything ready…but unfortunately Mrs. Reeves had been one of those women who tried and tried, but never experienced the miracle of increasing.
On the day of her wedding solemnization, Mary had moved her possessions into a bedroom that would have belonged to one of Doc’s children, and since then she and the older physician had spent several evenings eating dinner together—that is, when he wasn’t called out on an emergency or she wasn’t working at the restaurant. His home was quite comfortable, and very peaceful, when compared to the rather noisy atmosphere of the small hotel where people came and went at all hours of the night.
Mary did, however, miss living
