Johanna: Bride of Michigan (American Mail-Order Bride 26) by Clara Kincaid

suggested.
    Johanna followed him to the dining room, setting the cake down. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates and a knife and cake server, as well as a bottle of milk.
    “You have to enjoy chocolate cake with milk,” he insisted.
    “I’d rather have tea.”
    “You’ll have to wait for that. One of the maids just put a pot on the stove.”
    Paul took the cake out of the box and cut the chocolaty goodness, or so Johanna hoped it would be. She admired Paul for assembling what he needed to cut and eat the cake with. Most men of his social standing might never lift a hand at home, not when he had hired help. Johanna couldn’t see herself as someone who’d expect the help to do everything for her. She’d have to do something to wile away her time.
    He handed a plate to her and she put a forkful in her mouth, sighing in enjoyment. “This is so good.”
    Paul only nodded as he had a mouthful. He took a drink of his milk and said, “I told you it would be good.”
    “I know, but I suppose it would be hard to explain how good.”
    He smiled before changing the subject. “Why did you decide to become a mail-order bride?”
    Johanna swallowed hard. “You promise to not send me back?” When his brow shot up, she quickly added, “It’s nothing that bad, I assure you.”
    “I promise I won’t send you back, no matter what you tell me.” He winked.
    She moved her fork along her plate. “Well, as I stated before, I was working at a factory in Lawrence, but there was a fire and the owner didn’t want to rebuild. There were over a hundred women working at the factory. Our manager was a woman, and she spoke with a few matchmakers. We were each given a copy of the Grooms’ Gazette to choose a groom from.”
    “A hundred women decided to become mail-order brides?” he asked, shocked.
    “No, about half that. Married women wouldn’t be able to do that, of course.”
    “Surely there were other positions you could have found.”
    Johanna gulped. “Honestly, becoming a bride to a stranger would be much better than another job in a factory. The pay isn’t that good, and you have to work long hours. It’s also dangerous. Many of the factory owners don’t think safety is a priority.” She rubbed her scar gingerly. “You’re not sorry I’m here, are you?”
    “Of course, not. I only wanted to understand why a beautiful woman like you would have a need to do that. I’m sure there must be men who would have wanted to marry you there.”
    “I’m not sure what you’re trying to insinuate, Paul, but I came here for a better life. I assure you I had no knowledge that you were a lumber baron or I wouldn’t have chosen you.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Your mother is very lovely, but I think if she finds out my background, she might not think I’m a suitable wife.”
    “I have no intention of giving my mother any ammunition to use against you or me.”
    “So, why did you order a bride, really?”
    Paul’s eyelid twitched. “Actually, my mother is the real reason. She’s rejected every woman I ever courted.”
    “What does it matter if she liked them or not?”
    “It doesn’t, but she found a way to run them off, believe me. When she suggested I get a mail-order bride, I knew she’d have no say in the matter when one came to town.”
    Johanna frowned. “Well, that doesn’t mean she’ll be any kinder to me. I have the feeling she’s quite capable of making my life difficult if she chooses, but I’ll do my best to win her over.”
    “That’s good to hear. I promise I won’t let her chase you away. Not when I’m only beginning to get to know you.”
    They finished up the cake and Paul led her into a much larger room. There was a pink, revival Victorian sofa, the oval and side cushions crested with deep rose carvings. There were also chairs to match, but what caught her attention was the carved wooden mantle. The intricate pattern was made of deep-grooved spirals and roses. Without