- Home
- Tracey Jane Jackson
The Bride Price Page 3
The Bride Price Read online
Page 3
Nope, still brooding.
“Betty, prepare the blue room for our guest,” Nona instructed.
Sophie held her hand up. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’m sure my husband will be here any time now. He must have just gotten lost, or detained. Yes, detained. That must be it. He can’t be far away. He would never leave me. We’re usually joined at the hip.”
“Joined at the hip?” Nona lowered her voice. “Perhaps we shouldn’t speak of those things in mixed company.”
Sophie swung her legs around and settled them on the carpet. “Oh, sorry. Um, it’s an expression...from home. Um, we spend a lot of time together.”
The doctor laid his hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we just take you on upstairs? You can lie down for a little while and Nona will find you something decent to wear. I’ll have Richard make some inquiries about your husband. We’ll make certain the two of you are reunited as soon as possible.”
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Nona.” She stood and faced Richard. “Thank you, um, Mr. Madden, is it?”
“Yes ma’am. There’s not much of a chance a man can get lost in this town. If he’s here, someone will know where he is. You said his name is Jamie?”
Sophie nodded. “His name is James—actually, we call him Jamie. James William Ford is his full name.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “What does he look like? I’ll ask down at the field office and see if I can’t locate him for you.”
“Tall, blue eyes, short dark hair, goat—” Sophie stalled, he didn’t appear to be listening.
His eyes met hers. “He has a goat with him?”
“No, sorry. He has a goatee—no, he had one, but now he has a beard.”
When Richard nodded, Sophie turned to follow Nona up the stairs, her hands grasping the tie at the waist of her pants, now threatening to fall below her hips. Richard stepped behind her and bent to lift her, but Sophie pushed him away. “No, I’m fine. I can walk up the stairs.”
“Ma’am, you’ve had a nasty accident—”
“—Don’t touch me,” she interrupted. She put more distance between them, and waited for him to step back before following Nona. Sophie felt as though they walked past more than a dozen doors before arriving at the one Nona referred to as the ‘blue room.’
As she followed the doctor’s wife inside, Sophie’s mouth dropped open. A large four-poster bed dominated the room. A roaring fire in an elaborately carved fireplace made the space feel warm and welcoming. Sophie crossed the hardwood floor to admire a beautiful mahogany highboy and matching vanity that flanked a large window. The furniture shone with a deep luster that could only have come from elbow grease and copious amounts of beeswax. She shook her head in wonder.
Her love affair with all things Civil War era had not prepared her for the opulence she was encountering. Who would have thought people could have such beauty and civility amidst the destruction of war? The snow outside was a blinding white and it sparkled like fairy dust, vibrant and alive. The wooden floors gleamed like honey, and the room she stood in was awash in vivid blue.
Blue floral wallpaper covered the walls, and the china bowl and pitcher matched the design. A primrose blanket and an embroidered quilt covered the bed. The items that didn’t have some shade of blue in them seemed right at home, despite their hue challenge. Everything about the room projected comfort and welcome. It would be a perfect B&B and just the kind of place she’d want to spend a cozy weekend snuggled in bed with Jamie. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of Jamie.
I need him here. Where is he? Does he know where I am or does he think I’m dead?
She drew a ragged breath and allowed Nona to help her change into a nightgown. Nona had also located a robe and, although it was several inches too short, it was warm, which was all Sophie cared about at the moment. Sophie got settled in the large bed and clasped her hands together, uncertain what to do.
“You should sleep and get your strength back.”
Sophie stared at her plain gold wedding band and ran her finger over it. “I’m fine, Nona. My husband will find me.”
“I’ll tell you what. As soon as your husband arrives, I’ll wake you.” Nona patted her hand.
Sophie took a deep breath. “I suppose I am rather tired. Please promise me you’ll wake me as soon as he gets here. I’m sure he’s frantically trying to find me and is worried sick.”
As soon as Nona left the room, Sophie slid from the bed.
Wake up, Sophie. You are not in the middle of the Civil War. You are not in the middle of a real life freakin’ reenactment. This is a dream.
She pinched her leg. “Ow.” Slapping her hand over her mouth, hoping Nona wouldn’t investigate the noise, she stood on shaky legs for several seconds. Nothing.
She stepped to the fireplace and reached her hands toward the amber flames.
Um, yeah, those are hot. What the heck is going on? I have to find Jamie.
CHAPTER THREE
Sophie paced the room for what seemed like hours. She investigated every inch of it, not that it helped. The warmth of the bed beckoned to her, so she finally forced herself to climb back under the covers. She tried to nap, without success. She sat up, tossed back her thick mass of curls, and brought her palm to her chest.
I can breathe without pain.
Raising her head to the ceiling, she took a deep breath.
How is this even possible?
Sophie eased out of the tall bed and grasped the post to steady herself. Her weak legs protested the sudden activity. Pulling the borrowed robe tighter around her, Sophie moved to the bedroom door. She poked her head out, listening for sounds, before making her way down the hall. Where was the bathroom? She tried a few doors but only found other bedrooms.
She hoped she wasn’t going to have to use a chamber pot. Dream or no dream, the idea was gross. Hearing noise coming from downstairs, she paused on the landing. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses wafted through the foyer.
Sophie slunk down the stairs and made her way toward the dining room, uncertain exactly what she would find, but following the sound despite her racing heart. As she turned the corner, she stopped, and a fork dropped with a loud clutter.
Sophie’s mouth came open as Richard stood, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He made a beeline for her. “Mrs. Ford, ma’am, you shouldn’t be down here without any clothes on.”
“Excuse me?”
Richard grabbed her arm and pulled her into the foyer.
Sophie’s skin crawled as she dragged her arm from his hold. “Let go of me.”
“Ma’am, people shouldn’t see you like this, it’s not decent.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by ‘not decent’?”
“You’re almost naked.”
Sophie glanced down to make sure another button hadn’t popped open. “I’m fully covered!”
“You’re not fully covered. Your ankles are showing, among other things,” Richard whispered.
“Ooh, my ankles. Scandalous,” she snipped sarcastically.
Feeling a gentle squeeze on her elbow, Sophie turned her head to find Nona, her expression full of motherly concern. “Sophie, dear, what are you doing down here?”
Michael stood behind Nona and moved to block Sophie’s view of the dining room.
“Where’s Jamie?”
Nona shot a frantic look toward Michael.
“Mrs. Ford. Turn around and go back to your room.” Richard pointed to the stairs.
“Where is my husband?”
“Sophie, dear, he isn’t here.” Nona wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you back upstairs.”
Sophie shook her head. “I want my husband.”
“We can speak privately upstairs,” Richard replied.
Sophie crossed her arms and glared at Richard. “I don’t want to speak privately upstairs.”
This must be a nightmare. Any minute, I’ll be back in the Jamie’s arms, back in
our bed.
Nona tried to lead her to the stairs but Sophie refused to budge. Without warning, Richard picked her up, and Sophie let out a squeal. “What are you doing? Let me go!”
“Ma’am, we need to get you back into bed. You’re making a scene and upsetting Nona. We’ll explain everything once you’re settled.” Richard moved toward the stairs.
“Mr. Madden, put me down, I can walk by myself.” Sophie pushed at his chest. “Jamie is not going to be happy with you man-handling me.” He didn’t comply, so she tried a different tack. “Mr. Madden, please, put me down. Seriously, this is ridiculous.”
Reaching the bedroom door, Richard pushed it open with his shoulder. He lowered Sophie onto the massive bed, and the top of her robe popped open. Catching Richard’s leer, she grabbed for the quilt to cover herself. As Nona and Michael rushed into the room, Sophie turned a crimson face toward them. “Where is Jamie?”
Nona stood in front of her and settled a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Sophie, Richard has spent most of the day looking for him. There simply isn’t any record of a James William Ford anywhere in the Union Army.”
“I told you. He isn’t a soldier. Where else did you look? Did you check the hospitals? Maybe he’s been mugged. Did you check the airport? Maybe he went looking for me there.”
“Airport? What’s an airport?” Richard asked.
“What do you mean, what’s an airport? This dream is really getting lame.”
“Lame, dear? Do you have a horse that went lame? Is that how you ended up at the stables? Were you thrown?” Nona asked.
These people are out of their minds. Wake up Sophie, WAKE UP.
Taking a deep breath, Sophie fisted her hands in her lap. “Look, something’s not right here. No, I did not get thrown from a horse. I’m Sophie Jane Wellington Ford, married to James William Ford.” Her voice rose in volume. “I’m twenty-six years old. We’ve been married for five years. I’m from Portland, Oregon, and this is not funny. I want to wake up from this nightmare. Now!”
Nona wrung her hands and turned to her husband. “Michael, please, there must be something you can do for her.”
“I’ll return shortly.”
Sophie let Nona wrap her arms around her. “Nona, please, I need Jamie. He can’t have just disappeared. I can’t have just disappeared! I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be dead. I should be dead.”
“Is it possible your husband died in the war and you’re forgetting? Maybe you think it should have been you?”
“No, it is not possible, because he is not a soldier! I have not lost my memory.” Sophie swallowed. “And I am not crazy.” Her eyes moved skyward in desperation. “Oh, God, please help me, please, please help me.”
Michael returned with his medical bag in hand and moved to her side. “Mrs. Ford, I have something for you that will calm you. I would like you to drink all of this for me, please.”
“What is it?” Sophie asked suspiciously.
“Laudanum.”
With a frantic shake of her head, Sophie pushed the covers away and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Are you out of your ever-blessed mind? No way am I taking laudanum. You can just forget it. I don’t want to be drugged.”
“Mrs. Ford, you need to calm down. You’ll give yourself an apoplexy,” Michael warned.
“Who are you people? I need to get out of here. You’re all crazy. Trying to drug innocent people, man-handling them, and throwing them onto beds.” She muttered the last words as she glared in Richard’s direction.
Richard pushed away from the wall, and stalked toward her. “Mrs. Ford, you need to get back into bed. The Wades are good people. They are simply trying to help. I would rather not have to hold you down while the doctor forces the medicine down your throat.”
Her body leaned away from his threat of its own accord and, cursing her fear, she ground out, “Niiiice—now you’re using your brute strength to hold me against my will? What are you even doing in my bedroom? Isn’t that illegal or something? Don’t think I’ll ever forget about this. When Jamie gets here, you’re going to have a lot of explaining to do! He’s gonna kick your ass.”
“Mrs. Ford, I don’t have a donkey, but if I did, I don’t know why your husband would want to kick it. Perhaps you hit your head a little harder than we originally thought.”
“You’re the donkey!”
Oh, good one, Sophie. That told him.
“Get back into bed, sit still, and take the medicine Dr. Wade is offering—or I will make you,” Richard threatened.
As the tension in the room thickened, Sophie stopped fighting. After downing the bitter laudanum, she drank the water Richard offered, all the while imagining him in a floral dress, lying helplessly as she tied him to railroad tracks and twirled her waxed moustache. The visual made her feel a little better.
Nona took Sophie’s glass and set it by her bedside. “There’s a sweet dear. We’ll get you back to sleep and things will look better in the morning. You’ll see.”
Sophie groaned at the positive pronouncement over the worst predicament she’d ever been in. As the laudanum took effect, her limbs grew heavy and sluggish and her eyelids drooped. She smacked her dry mouth a few times as she watched the doctor and Richard make their way from the room. Sophie barely noticed Nona linger at the bedside for a few minutes before tiptoeing out into the hall.
Sophie heard voices just outside the door but they trailed as the group moved away. She tried to roll onto her side, without much luck. Her body felt like a lead weight.
Why won’t my butt follow my shoulders?
Taking a bigger swing with her leg, she finally ended on her side but realized she wasn’t comfortable there either. She rolled onto her back before trying to sit up and climb out of the bed. Inching her body toward the edge of the mattress, she reached her hand out to steady herself on the side table but only managed to knock the glass onto the floor with a loud crash. Before the sound even registered in her cloudy mind, the door opened with a bang. Gasping in fright, she turned toward the light.
“Sophie, dear? What happened?” Nona rushed to her side.
Just before her feet hit the floor, Sophie’s dizziness overwhelmed her. A quiet groan escaped her as she swayed toward Nona.
Nona laid her hand on her shoulder. “There is broken glass at your feet. You need to be careful.” Nona gave a gentle smile. “Why are you trying to get out of bed? I was certain you were asleep when I left you.”
“I have to—that is, well, I need to—” Sophie tried to put aside her humiliation and think through the confusion for the right words.
“I know what you need.” Nona pulled out a porcelain bowl from under the bed.
Ugh, chamber pot.
Nona helped to steady Sophie as the laudanum coursed through her system. “I apologize about the primitive chamber pot.” Nona patted her back. “I’ll have a proper commode moved in here in the morning. I’ll send Betty in to pick the glass up, once you’re asleep.”
Commode. Morning. Yes.
Sophie twirled the words through her cloudy mind. “Thank you.”
Nona helped her back into bed before quietly leaving the room. Sophie tried desperately to fight her drug-induced lethargy, but she was unsuccessful.
* * *
Sophie forced her eyes open and grabbed her pounding head. She focused her gaze on the ceiling, and several minutes passed before she realized she was still in the blue room. As she lowered her hands to her sides, her fingers touched the soft fabric of what she assumed was a homemade quilt; the ridges of the stitching rising like tiny hills under her fingertips.
Sitting up carefully to get a better sense of her surroundings, she eased out of the tall bed, made her way over to the window, and pulled the floor-to-ceiling curtain aside. The sun hid behind a mass of dark clouds. However, morning beckoned, and she noticed fresh snow on the ground. Sophie couldn’t help but smile. She’d always loved the snow.
Leaning her forehead against the windowpa
ne, she sighed. Her breath left an oval-shaped fog ring on the glass, and she dragged a finger through it as she tried to wrap her mind around what had happened.
What am I going to do? Am I in a coma and this is an hallucination? Am I dead and in heaven? Maybe it’s hell and I am destined to be without Jamie forever.
A quiet knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She grimaced. “Come in.”
“Good morning, dear.”
Squeezing her eyes shut for a last, brief second of solitude, Sophie pushed herself away from the window and turned. “Hi, Nona.”
“How did you sleep, dear? I didn’t want to wake you too early, so I told the staff not to disturb you.”
“Thank you.”
Nona laid mounds of fabric on the bed. “Are you hungry? I can have Betty bring you a tray.”
“No, thank you, Nona. I’m not really hungry right now.” Sophie turned to look out the window again.
“Dear, you really should eat. You need to get your strength up. My sister, Elizabeth, brought a few dresses and personal things over this morning for you.”
Sophie let Nona fuss over her, pleasantly surprised that Nona’s sister had provided several gowns that fit her. Uncertain how long it would take her to get used to wearing a corset for extended periods of time—she had a difficult time wearing them with her reenactment costumes—she tried to remember how to breathe without hyperventilating.
The combination Nona chose for Sophie consisted of a deep blue skirt with a simple white bodice. The jacket, a lighter blue, was adorned with piping that matched the skirt. Elizabeth sent ribbons for each of the dresses, and Sophie used one of them to pull her long hair back and tie it securely at her neck.
Sophie forced a smile. “Nona, thank you so much for your kindness.”
“It’s my pleasure, dear. I know things seem frightening right now, but I hope you will consider my home your home. You are welcome to stay as long as you have need.”
“Thank you.”
Nona led Sophie downstairs and into the large dining room. The buffet had a simple but abundant breakfast arrangement. Smelling the savory aroma of the sausage, pancakes, and fried potatoes, Sophie filled her plate, her stomach rumbling in anticipation. Another concoction, a dish that looked positively disgusting, made her stomach roll as the beady eyes of a fish stared at her from beneath the sauce.