The Bartender’s Mail Order Bride(19)
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Sam said as he looked up.
“If your mother believes that we’ve been married for two years, we ought to know quite a bit more about each other than we do now.”
“I certainly don’t think she will quiz us, Meg,” he said, pouring himself another cup of tea.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Of course she won’t, but if you want this to be believable, it needs to appear that I’ve lived here longer than two days. I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen, for one thing. I wouldn’t have been able to even offer her a cup of tea, not knowing where things are kept.”
Sam looked around the kitchen, from the sink to the polished oak cabinets. “I suppose you’re right about that. It would be more believable.”
“And don’t you think that I would know about important things concerning my husband? Childhood injuries, maybe, or where you’ve lived? And I’m afraid you should learn the same things about me.”
“I did fall out of a tree when I was ten and broke my arm. I suppose you would know something like that and wouldn’t be surprised if it came up. It still bothers me sometimes.”
Meg laughed and stirred her second cup of tea. “Exactly what I mean. And I got my finger stuck in a stable door when I was a girl and it’s a bit crooked.” She held up her finger and smiled as Sam looked intently at her, searching for signs of her injury.
“I don’t see anything. I should go get my glasses.”
Meg clapped her palms on the table. “See, that’s another thing. I had no idea you wear glasses. I’ve never seen you with any on.”
Sam smiled as he stood and reached for a set of spectacles on the counter. He put them on, wrapping the wire around his ears, and Meg noticed the color creep into his cheeks.
“I try not to wear them very much. I had to get them as a boy to read small print. Music, mostly.”
Sam chuckled as Meg clasped her hands together over her chest. “You read music?”
He frowned and pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning against. “Maybe we don’t need to know everything about each other,” he said as he picked up the empty mugs and placed them in the sink.
Meg wondered why reading music would be a delicate topic, but it clearly was. She made a mental note to find out more about it somehow, even if not from him.
“Well, we’re off to a good start,” she said as she wrapped a dishtowel around her waist and tucked it into her skirt in preparation for cleaning the dishes. “At least now I know you like your tea black.”
He smiled and nodded. “And I know you take cream and two sugars.”
She turned around, laughing, happy that he had noticed what she liked in her tea. Another spark of encouragement. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see. “
“I suppose I feel bad about your father. To be honest, I’m actually honored that you would consider this, helping me out. My mother means the world to me, and she would be heartbroken if she found out I was a bartender—and unmarried, at that.”
Meg circled around the table and sat back down across from Sam. “I believe she will be fine, Sam. Please, trust me.”
His look of uncertainty could be expected, she knew. Although Sam had been a friend of her brother’s for a while and had spent a fair amount of time at the ranch, he would really have no way of knowing how recently the grief surrounding the loss of Katie Archer, Meg’s mother, had lifted. It was yet another blow for her father, she knew, but she still had faith that she’d done the right thing.
His eyes met hers, and she smiled the most reassuring smile she could muster. This was going to work out, and she wouldn’t allow her father to put a wedge in her new marriage.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, nodded his head and said, “All right, Meg. If you say so. I’ll trust you on this one.”
She clapped and walked back over to the sink. “Good. I know I’m right. Let me get the dishes cleaned up and then maybe take a look at the house? Hank should be here soon with my things, and I’d like to be able to tell him where to take them.”
“Oh, right. I’ll just go make some final preparations while you do that.”
As Sam left the kitchen, Meg turned back to the sink, going over the day in her mind. It had resulted in the marriage she had wanted, but hadn’t turned out at all how she’d daydreamed it would. She thought of her father as she gazed out the window of her new home and watched the birds play in the birdbath Sam had in his small garden. She wondered what he was doing, and how supper would be tonight at the ranch with all of them around the table, her chair empty, and a hint of sorrow tugged at her heart.