“It’s supposed to be hot,” Amanda’s retort was short. “I’ll get soap.”
Teddy slipped into the tub, sighing as the hot water lapped over his hips. His little wife had been right. This was just what he needed.
Amanda blushed prettily as she walked back to the tub, a washrag and bar of soap in her hand. She had never honestly looked at her husband this way, and her eyes strayed to the puckered scar in his right calf as she handed him the items.
“This smells like flowers,” Teddy grumbled.
“It’s all I have,” Amanda sigh, brushing a lock of tangled hair from her eyes. “If you want something else, you’ll have to put it on the shopping list.”
Teddy lathered up the cloth and gingerly washed the blood from his brow, flinching as the hot water burned.
“Here, let me.” Amanda’s soft hands took the cloth, her eyes colliding with Theo’s as a wicked grin spread across his face. “Theo!” she screeched as Teddy pulled her into the tub with him.
Epilogue
“I need to be going,” Amanda said, rising and donning her gloves. “Theo finally stopped fussing about me riding to town alone, but he doesn’t like me getting home too late.”
“I’m glad you came,” Olive said.
“Me too,” Ellen grinned.
Over the past two months, the ladies had grown closer, and Amanda felt like she had true friends in Needful. She had even attended a sewing circle a few times, though her stitches were abysmal.
“It does get dark rather early now that the days are growing shorter again.” Amanda looked around her, checking that she hadn’t forgotten anything.
“And cooler, thank the Lord,” Ellen grinned.
Amanda’s smile was bright. “Yes, the Texas heat is something to contend with. I’ll see you all on Sunday.”
The sound of the stage arriving made all three women start as Amanda headed for the door.
“It’s late for the stage,” Olive said, a flicker of worry flashing in her eyes as she pushed to her feet and following Amanda to the door.
“Is that the stage?” Orville hustled out of the back of the house, scowling at the interruption.
“It seems to be,” Olive replied.
Amanda stepped out onto the front porch, her eyes taking in the same stage she had arrived in only two short months ago.
“Special delivery,” the driver called down with a grin, as an older gentleman began to climb down from the seat on the top of the coach.
“We’re here,” the man said, shuffling to the door of the stage. “You can finally come out.”
Amanda turned, giving Olive a questioning glance, but the older woman simply shrugged.
“Is either of you ladies Olive Hampton or Peri?” the man asked, his gnarled hand falling on the handle of the stage door.
“I’m Olive Hampton.”
“I’m Phineas Fortuna,” the man said, pulling the door open, “and these are my daughters, come to be mail-order brides.”
Olive’s mouth fell open as a tall, austere looking woman of nearly thirty stepped onto the boardwalk, her pinched mouth and hard eyes taking in the town with a critical glance.
“This is Adele, my oldest.”
“Ma’am.” The young woman curtsied slightly, straightening a little unsteadily. Her dark eyes were keen, but the severe pull of her tight bun did nothing to soften the lines of her angular face.
“This one is Heidi,” Mr. Fortuna spoke, handing a mousy looking girl from the coach. Her dark eyes were large and startled, looking as she gazed around her absently, trying to tuck an untidy strand of brown hair into the loose bun at the back of her head.
“Hello,” she said, blinking into the light. “Is this Texas?”
Olive shot a glance toward Amanda but greeted the girl warmly.
“Olga, you’re next,” the old man’s voice was harsh as he beckoned another girl, this one blonde and plump, from the stage. “Stop messing with your dress,” he barked. “No one cares what you look like after a long ride.”
“But Papa,” Olga said, smoothing her fashionable, but hideous pea green dress, “what if my new husband sees me. I want to make a good impression.”
Phineas rolled his eyes but took his daughter by the hand, helping her down the step shaking his head as he took in the horrid color of her dress, which clashed severely with her fair complexion and pale eyes.
“Fanny. Fanny!” the man shouted. “We’re here.”
“Oh,” a disembodied voice echoed from the shadowy depths of the stage. “Take these.”
A small hamper appeared, followed by a stack of bound books.
“I don’t want that beast,” Mr. Fortuna said as the hamper began to hiss and growl. “You know it hates everyone, but you.”
A slip of a girl finally immerged from the darkness within, her light brown hair neatly tucked into a knitted snood. “Papa, you know that Midas is a dear and an excellent mouser to boot. Please don’t be rude.”
Olive covered her mouth with her hand, too flabbergasted to speak.
“I didn’t expect you tonight?” Orville came around the side of the boarding house, driving a fresh team of stage horses. Rather late, you know.”
“I’ll be staying the night,” the driver called down, reaching for a trunk strapped to the coach.
“Oh, do be careful!” the third daughter called. “My clothing is in there and you wouldn’t want to damage anything. I’ve copied all of the latest fashions from Paris.”
Phineas Fortuna ran a hand over his face, he looked weary and at his wit's end.
“Well, here they are,” he sighed, looking at Olive. “What do you want to do with them?”
Olive gaped, looking at the young women lined up outside her door as Orville turned his snorting team back toward the livery stable.
“Amanda?” Teddy’s voice echoed onto the porch as Orville turned his team around, and the stage driver handed down boxes, bags, and trunks.
“I’m here, Theo,” Amanda grinned. “You didn’t have to come for me. I was on my way home.”
Teddy stepped down from his horse, hitching him to the rail as the stage driver clicked to his tired team, turning them in the street. “Dan sent me for some things, so I thought we
