The tension in the room eased as Meg closed the door behind her, her father needing to head to an appointment.
Sam walked to her side, his curiosity plain to see. “Well?” he asked. “How did it go?”
“It appears that we don’t have an enemy, but not exactly a supporter, either. Not yet, anyway, but he isn’t going to argue.”
Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead with his handkerchief. Meg’s stomach clenched at his concern, and she was again convinced that this was the best idea she’d ever had. If, she thought, they could actually fool his mother.
Chapter 16
As Meg pulled herself up into the buggy, she thought her nerves might just jangle her to bits and as Sam untied the reins from the post, she knew he couldn’t have gotten much more sleep than she had.
How had this day come so fast? Mrs. Allen’s stagecoach was due in less than an hour, and although she and Sam had practiced many times—he’d called her a taskmaster at one point, although he was laughing at the time—they still didn’t know all that much about each other.
It had taken time for her to familiarize herself with the house, for one thing. She knew it wouldn’t do for her to fumble for things if her new mother-in-law needed something, or heaven forbid wanted to help her cook. What if she hadn’t known where the potatoes were? Or the flour? Or the pots? So after her first tour, she’d spent extra time just searching through cupboards and drawers so she’d at least have some idea of the contents of what was supposed to be her house.
As the buggy bounced toward the train station in the rutted dirt road, she hoped it would make a difference. She very much wanted this to be a success, and although she hadn’t made any inroads as to why it was so important, she had found out that Sam had a brother—a very successful brother who was a doctor—and had an inkling that that piece of information might have something to do with this ruse.
Sam held the reins tightly and stared straight ahead, his lips a thin line. They had a bit of a drive ahead of them, so she pulled out the paper with her questions and answers on it and said, “Could you go for another round?” She waved the paper in his direction as he turned and groaned.
“I don’t think I can do another one. I don’t mean that it isn’t interesting,” he said quickly, turning to catch her eye.
Meg laughed. “Interesting isn’t the purpose right now, I’m afraid. Let’s just do a few more.”
“All right, shoot,” Sam said. He held the reins in one hand for a moment and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sure I know everything by now.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Let’s try this one. What is my favorite color? That’s easy.”
“Red?”
She tapped his arm playfully and said, “Sam. You know that one. What color was my wedding dress?”
“Oh, purple.” He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to Meg. “Maybe I’m just nervous. I did know that one.”
She looked at the list again. With Sam’s mother arriving shortly, it probably was too late to learn anything new, and they’d practiced as much as they could. She slowly folded up the paper and returned it to her pocket, hoping for the best.
“We’ve been so busy I haven’t really gotten a chance to hear much about your mother. That would be helpful, too.”
Sam pushed his hat back on his head. “Hm, what to say about Mother.”
Meg waited patiently. It wouldn’t do to push him. If he’d wanted to tell her much more than he had, he would have already. But now, when meeting his mother and beginning their charade was imminent, it was worth asking one more time.
“You know that I have a brother and that he’s a doctor.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t tell me much about you or your mother,” she said, her hands folded in her lap as she waited.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t. My mother is a very kind, charming, funny woman. She was a good mother and supported us as children in every way you could imagine.”
She clasped her hands together tightly as she thought of her own mother, who was exactly like Sam described his mother to be.
He glanced over at her quickly and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Meg. I remember your mother quite fondly, too. My mother is much like yours.”
She lowered her head, surprised at the overwhelming emotion she was feeling. It had been a while since her mother had passed, and it had become easier—but now, with Sam’s mother arriving, it somehow felt fresh, new.
“Thank you, Sam. That’s a nice compliment. My mother was fond of you, too.” She rested her hand on his arm, willing her emotions back in the box they rested in most of the time in her head.