about the same age as Amanda. Her blond hair was twisted neatly atop her head, and her dress, while serviceable, was flattering.
“Good evening, Mr. Kruger,” she said.
“Mrs. McGee.” Ethan twisted his hat, then plastered it against his chest. “I, uh, I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I’d like to ask a favor, if I can.”
“What sort of favor?” she asked.
“Well…” Ethan seemed lost for a moment. He looked down at his feet, then back at her. “Well…”
At this rate they’d be standing here all night. Amanda climbed onto the porch. “Mrs. McGee, I’m Miss Amanda Pierce. I’m very sorry to disturb you, but I find myself stranded here on the mountain. Ethan felt I could impose on you for a night’s lodging.”
She turned a warm smile on Ethan. “How thoughtful of you….”
Ethan turned several shades of red. He seemed to stop breathing for a moment, as well.
“I hope it’s not too much to ask, Mrs. McGee,” Amanda said.
“Of course not. And please, call me Meg,” she said.
Ethan nodded toward Amanda. “Miss Pierce was supposed to get married up here, but—”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Married?”
“To Jason.”
Meg smiled broadly at Amanda. “That’s wonderful!”
“It’s all a mistake,” Amanda said. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
“But…” Meg’s shoulders slumped.
“I’ll round up Shady and have him bring your bags over,” Ethan said.
“Thank you very much, Ethan,” Amanda said, and stepped inside the house. “You’ve been very kind.”
Ethan stood there on the porch for a moment, twisting his hat and shuffling his feet.
“Well…’night, Mrs. McGee,” he said.
“Good night, Ethan.” Meg paused for a moment, then closed the door softly.
Amanda was pleased to see that the McGee home looked comfortable and inviting. A big cookstove, a dining table and chairs, and a settee and rocker crowded the little room, decorated with lace doilies and a glowing lamp, all scrubbed clean and neat as a pin. Amanda felt herself relax for the first time since coming up the mountain.
“You must be starved,” Meg said. “Let me get you something.”
“I don’t want to impose on you any further,” Amanda said. “But I am quite hungry.”
Meg smiled. “It’s nothing fancy, just some chicken left from the supper I made for Todd and me.”
“Todd is your husband?” Amanda asked.
Meg stopped suddenly and her face blanched. “No. Todd is my son. My husband is…gone.”
Amanda cringed. Jason Kruger had told her about the dangerous work in the logging camp. She should have been more considerate about asking after Meg’s husband.
“I’m sorry to be so thoughtless,” Amanda said. “Please forgive me, and accept my condolences for your loss.”
Meg shook her head. “My husband isn’t dead. He’s…gone.”
There was surely more to the story than Meg was telling, but it was hardly any of Amanda’s business so she didn’t ask anything else.
Amanda didn’t pry into other peoples’ pasts because she knew—far too well—how hurtful that could be.
She slipped off her gloves and unpinned her hat while Meg moved around the kitchen. A knock sounded at the door, and when Meg answered it, Shady Harper ambled inside carrying Amanda’s two carpetbags and satchel.
“So, when are you and ol’ Jason gittin’ hitched?” Shady asked.
“There will be no wedding,” Amanda said. “It seems Mr. Kruger didn’t write that letter after all.”
Shady squinted hard at her. “And he’s not marrying you? Not doing the right thing by you?”
“You see, Shady, I never intended to marry Mr. Kruger.”
Shady tilted his head. “How’s that?”
She’d tried to explain it to Jason Kruger in his office but he’d refused to listen. She may as well tell somebody in this logging camp.
“I’m the owner of the Becoming Brides Matrimonial Service, not a prospective bride,” Amanda said. “My service is very selective. I don’t accept just any woman as a bride, nor do I blindly fill a request from every man who makes one.”
“So you come up here to have a look-see at Jason, after you got that letter from him asking for a wife?” Shady asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I came to determine if Mr. Kruger would be an acceptable Becoming Brides husband.”
“And you come all the way up here just to find out?” Shady asked.
“No, not entirely.” Amanda paused, reluctant to go into her real reason for being here. She already felt foolish enough in coming this far for nothing. But what damage could it do to talk about it now? She would leave in the morning and never see any of these people again.
“Actually, I’d hoped that other men here in the logging camp would want wives also,” Amanda said.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Meg said.
“Darn tootin’,” Shady said.
“I didn’t know Mr. Kruger had a rule about not allowing women here. It seems I’ve brought my catalog of brides all the way up here for nothing.” Amanda gestured toward her satchel Shady had placed beside the stone fireplace.
“A catalog?” Shady asked. “Like a mail-order book? With pictures? Of women wanting to get hitched?”
Amanda nodded. “Dozens, actually. I offer brides of varying size, shape, hair color. All are educated and have excellent homemaking skills. Many are proficient in music and art, all sorts of things.”
Shady nodded toward her satchel. “And you got all them women in that book of yourn?”
“And the women are willing to come up here to the mountain to live?” Meg asked.
“Willing and anxious,” Amanda said. “I was disappointed, of course, when Mr. Kruger said no one here was interested in a wife.”
“Jason said that?” Meg asked.
“Yes,” Amanda said. “Several times—and not very pleasantly, I might add.”
“Humph.”
