Patience: Bride of Washington (American Mail Order Bride 42) by Caroline Clemmons

fortune. I’m embarrassed to accept such generosity from a man who’s not my husband.”
    “Soon you will be Patience Kincaid and you must dress in such a way that your husband’s reputation will not be harmed. Keep that in mind, dear. Now, let’s get something to eat. I believe I’ve had too much champagne.”
    Marianne led her to a tea room half a block away. “We can leave the buggy at Céline’s carriage house until we’re ready to go back to the office.”
    Patience’ stomach rumbled and she hoped Marianne hadn’t heard. “I confess I’m starving. And I don’t suppose a few strawberries and bites of cheese counted as a meal for you.”
    Inside the tea room, Marianne and she were quickly shown to a table near the window.
    Patience read the menu and selected chicken pie. “Everyone appears to know and respect you. How long have you lived in Destiny?”
    “Twenty-five years.”
    After the waitress left with their order, Marianne leaned forward. “I came here as a mail-order bride after the War. There simply were no young men left where I lived in eastern Tennessee.”
    Patience smiled. “What an odd coincidence. There were no suitable men in Lawrence, which is a factory town of mostly women workers.” Through their meal she explained about the fire and her and Mercy’s series of jobs.
    Marianne laughed until she had to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief. “My dear, you’ve entertained me more than you can imagine. I’m so glad we’ve met.”
    Patience shared that sentiment. “I’m relieved you’re going to Tacoma and can tell me what to wear and when. I confess I’m quite nervous about the trip.”
    Marianne reached across the table to pat Patience’s hand. “You’ll be fine. Trust me to guide you through everything.”
    When they returned to the buggy, the back seat was filled with packages. Henri hurried to assist them into the conveyance. This time, Patience waited for his aid.
    Patience touched one large package tied with pink ribbon. “Surely these aren’t my dresses.”
    “Those will be your unmentionables, nightgowns, shoes, and slips. Shall we stop by the boarding house so you can carry them to your room?”
    “Please, seeing them might embarrass Andrew.”
    Marianne gave her an odd smile. “You’ll be surprised at what does and does not affect Andrew.”
    She was lost in reverie on the way to Mrs. Shaw’s. After carrying the packages to her room and making a quick stop in the bathing room, Patience followed Marianne to the buggy and they headed back to the orchard office.
    When they arrived, Andrew opened the door for them. “Well, am I bankrupt yet?”
    Patience gave him a weary smile. “Probably. Madame Céline Delacroix went wild. You’ve been very generous and I hope you’re not angry when you get her bill. I was been poked and turned and measured until I was dizzy.”
    Marianne laughed. “After I gave Céline my list and explained what Patience needed, I had to persuade her to let the dressmaker be the judge of meeting her requirements. Céline promised the dresses by next Tuesday in case there was a need for alterations.”
    Andrew rubbed his hands together. “Great. I can always count on you, Marianne. Now I’ll take you home. You must need a rest.”
    She sent him a smile. “I confess I’d very much like to lie down. Goodbye, Patience. So long, Stone.”
    After they’d gone, Patience hung her hat on the rack and sat at her desk. She resumed tallying the time sheets. At times, the workers’ poor penmanship was difficult to read, reminding her that many of them were unschooled.
    Stone strolled out of his office. “So you managed to spend Dad’s money?”
    “A great deal of it, I imagine. Marianne kept insisting on this or that and so did Madame Delacroix. There were no price tags so I have no idea of the cost of anything. I confess my embarrassment both at accepting such grandeur and not realizing prosperous women are expected to wear so many