Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) (5 page)

“I didn’t mean for her to hear. I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t.” Martha squeezed her hands then rose and walked to the doorway. “She won’t go far—probably sweet-talking one of the waitresses for a cookie already. Don’t worry about Stella, she’ll be just fine. I doubt if she even remembers what we were talking about.”

Lucie continued to start at the empty doorway after Martha left, unable to shake the feeling that the last thing Stella would do was forget.      

* * *

Sebastian
stared at the woman across the room. With a beautiful smile, Lucie carefully placed a large steak in front of the sheriff then gave him a bowl full of cherry cobbler. She walked to the bar and picked up the coffeepot, filling up several people’s cups along the way. Topping off the sheriff’s cup, he was close enough to hear her soft lilting voice as she asked if he needed anything else.

Shaking his head, the sheriff stabbed a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth with an appreciative groan. She patted his shoulder and walked over, handing the pot to the barkeeper so he could set it back on the stove to keep it warm.

Sebastian strode over to the long counter, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

Lucie whirled around, eyes wide. He liked the way her cheeks turned a light pink. His fingers itched to smooth out the small creases between her eyebrows, knowing her skin would be as soft as he imagined it to be. Disgusted with his wayward thoughts, he shoved the unwanted sentiments away and narrowed his eyes again.

“Should you be up and around yet? You took quite a beating.”

“I’m just filling in today for one of the waitresses. I’m tired of sitting upstairs with nothing to do. I needed to get up and move around…and to try to figure out what my brother and I should do next.”

Guilt filled his chest, and with a heavy dose of self-loathing, he cleared his throat. She wasn’t an employee, nor was he talking to one of his usual customers at this time of the day, drunk and unruly. Life had dealt Lucie and her brother a raw hand. He couldn’t help but think she was in over her head, trying to take care of herself and Alex. Instead of antagonizing her, he should be treating her with compassion.

He tried to force his mouth into the unnatural lift of a smile and hoped he didn’t look like he was about to be sick. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across like a bear. I was simply concerned that you would wear yourself out. The lunch crowd can be hard to handle alone, and you’re just now recovering from your ordeal. Let’s begin again, shall we? Would you like to keep filling in? I’m sure the staff would appreciate the extra help.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. “Really? Are you offering me a job?”

“Yes, I guess I am. If that’s what you would like to do.” He tilted his head as he stared at left side of her face, now an ugly green shade with hints of yellow nearer to her eye from the attack. The right side of her face was just as pretty as before, but the bruises didn’t matter. He was finding out Lucie was just as pretty on the inside as she normally was on the outside. “Your bruises are fading nicely.”

She touched the darkest spot high on her cheek. “I look terrible, but thank you. And my answer is yes. I’ve enjoyed helping.” She fidgeted, her fingers nervously plucking at her collar. She cleared her throat, her gaze on his boots instead of his face. “Thank you for your concern, but there are tables I need to be tending to.”

Before he could respond, she turned and walked over to a table filled with some of the railroad workers, most he recognized. Holding her head high, she gave each man a small smile. He watched in amazement as their faces transformed. To them, and maybe himself, she was a breath of fresh air, giving every man a sense of self-worth and a crumb of happiness in their otherwise hard lives.

“She’s a keeper, son,” John mumbled next to him.

Startled, he hadn’t even realized the man had finished his meal much less walked right up to him. He turned and gave his friend a hard stare. “Excuse me?”

John motioned with a quick tilt of his head toward Lucie. “That there is one special little lady. If you ask me, you’d be stupid to let her slip through your fingers.”

Irritation welled up from somewhere deep inside him. He wished everyone would stop telling him what he should do regarding his daughter. He couldn’t take the risk of another marriage. He didn’t know if he could go through that pain a second time. “Well, I didn’t ask you. Besides, you’re the last person I’d take advice from regarding women. How long have you been pining after my mother?”

The sheriff’s expression hardened as he took a step toward Sebastian, his thick finger poking him in the middle of his chest. “Now, you leave your mother out of this. What goes on between her and me is none of your business. Besides, I would think you’d have a bit more compassion for that little lady since she’s in the same boat you are, Sebastian. Lucie’s raisin’ a child by herself. And no one has given her anything to help pay the way. You have this hotel, but she’s been struggling without any help at all.”

John started to walk away then stopped, looking at him over his shoulder. “I always admired your gumption, taking on this place after your father almost destroyed it. But over the last year, I’ve watched you build a wall around yourself. You need to stop and ask what you’re running from, Sebastian. Life’s too short to waste time on things you can’t change.”

Bothered by his friend’s unusual outburst, he turned and headed upstairs. Stopping at his mother’s door, he hesitated, his knuckles resting against the dark wood. He hadn’t been with a woman since his wife had left town. But was that his problem now? What if John was right…what if he
was
running from something?

He didn’t socialize with people. All of his free time was spent with his daughter. To make their lives easier since his wife left them, he and Stella had even started eating most of their meals here at the hotel.

His own father had rarely spent time with him, so he wasn’t really sure how to be a good father. But the sheriff had always been there when he needed him. John had taught him how to be a man, fair and understanding, yet firm and strong. He taught him to believe in himself. Without John’s help, he’d never have been able to save the hotel after his father gambled away the profits.

He took a deep breath and softly knocked then waited for his mother to answer. The door silently swung open, and her face brightened into a wide smile. “Sebastian!” She moved over, opening the door wider and motioned with a sweep of her hand for him to enter. “I was just sitting down to tea—would you like some?”

He nodded, his thoughts rioting around in his mind until his head hurt. He took the white porcelain cup and drank, the liquid scalding its way down his throat. He didn’t care though; the pain helped to clear his mind. He set the empty cup down and met his mother’s questioning gaze.

“You never come to see me in the middle of the day, so what is the problem?” she asked, staring at him over her teacup.

He stared at the gold band she still wore on her finger. All these years, he’d never stopped to wonder why she didn’t take it off. “Why do you still wear your wedding ring?”

A frown marred her perfect features. “After all these years, why are you asking me that now?”

He shrugged. “I hate to say this, but I’ve never really taken the time to stop and notice. I saw the gold band and asked.”

She pinched her lips closed and set the cup on the low table between them. “There are several reasons why I still wear it, I suppose. I’ve worn it so long, it’s part of me—who I am. Until I know for sure your father is dead—”

“He’s dead, Mother.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know that for certain. Besides, it also keeps unwanted men away.”

He raised a sardonic brow. “Like the good Sheriff Gurley?”

She blushed, which surprised him. He’d known John was sweet on his mother for the last ten years; however, he’d always assumed they never got together because John was shy, not because his mother pushed him away. A small fact he found quite interesting. “Why don’t you put the poor man out of his misery? He’s been in love with you for years.”

She fidgeted with her skirt, arranging the folds until they lay perfect, then re-arranging them again. “I don’t know what you mean.” She narrowed her gaze at him and changed the subject. “You never answered the last time I asked, so I will ask again. Have you considered my suggestion?”

He stayed silent, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. When his mother got a bee in her bonnet about something, it was just easier for him to agree and be done with it. Her mischievous expression made him nervous though.

“You know I love you and want the best for you and Stella. And I normally would not tell you how to raise your daughter. But if you haven’t noticed, you’re raising her as a boy. Little girls don’t run around in pants, put frogs in other girls’ lunch pails, or want to go hunting. She should play with dolls and get excited about a new dress.”

He stared at her, unable to blink, unable to move. Why was he reacting like this? He really didn’t feel well, and his lungs seized in his chest right along with his heart. He took a deep, calming breath before he said something he would later regret. He took another one for good measure. “Mother—”

She held up her hand. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. Just promise me you will at least think about it. She needs you, Sebastian—so does Alex. And I think you need her.”

He stood and headed for the door, but just before shutting it behind him, he stopped. “Fine, mother,” he said, hoping to mollify her for a little while longer. “I will
think
about it. But don’t get your hopes up.” He stomped down the stairs, his thoughts in turmoil. In a matter of a few weeks, his strict life had disappeared and had been replaced by chaos. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

He headed for the door, not paying attention to anything around him until he heard a low voice slur, “Come on, shweetheart, you an’ me. You’re not ugly and your figure ain’t bad. Could gain some weight, but then where I want to go, it won’t matter none.” The drunk man’s laughter was echoed by several other drunk railroad men around the room.

“Let me go!” A familiar voice said between gasps.

He slowly turned to see Lucie struggling in the embrace of a large man with a dirty red beard. What little skin showed was covered in soot as were his clothes. His hands groped Lucie’s chest as she jerked away. Fury raced through Sebastian as he fought for control.

Lucie swung her elbow behind her and a loud
cra-ack
whipped through the room. The man dumped her on the floor at his feet while he screamed, holding his bloody nose. He pulled his foot back, aiming for Lucie as she scrambled to get out of the man’s way. 

“Touch her, and I will kill you with my bare hands,” Sebastian said, his voice low and filled with menace. The room stilled as everyone turned to see him standing in the open doorway. His reflection in the mirror across the room showed the sunlight from outside creating an aura around his large frame. His shadow trailed away from him across the floor.

The man slowly dropped his booted foot to the ground and turned to face him. “Don’t think this has anythin’ to do with you, mister.” He ignored the older man sitting beside him frantically tugging on his sleeve. He jerked out of the man’s grasp and shoved him away.

Sebastian took a few steps closer, his hands dangling by his sides. Not that it would do him any good, he didn’t carry a gun. If he needed a weapon, he used his fists. The only guns he owned were those his father left behind, which he kept under his bed at home.

“So, a drunk imbecile pawing at an innocent girl whose
only
job is to serve you food and drink in my establishment isn’t my business?”

The man glanced from table to table and took a hesitant step back, his face going slack as Sebastian’s words finally registered. “You’re McCord?”

“I am. Now, I suggest you leave while you’re able.” Sebastian watched as Lucie scurried through the kitchen door. As the man walked by him, he reached out and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him onto the toes of his boots. He let his bottled fury show in his face as he glared into the man’s dirty face. “If I ever hear of you treating a woman like that again anywhere in or near Chattanooga, you
will
answer to me. Understand?” The drunk nodded, but his eyes bled anger.

“And don’t ever come back into my place.” Sebastian tossed him through the doorway as if the man weighed no more than a bag of flour then turned back to the room. No one moved, only stared back at him. “That goes for the rest of you. You can eat my food and drink my liquor, maybe even sleep in a room upstairs, but my employees, men and woman alike, will be treated with dignity and respect or you will no longer be welcome at McCord’s.”

He met each man’s gaze then strode out onto the sidewalk, his boots thumping loudly against the planks. The anger swirling through his mind and body slowly dissipated the further from the hotel he got. He’d walked more than an hour, not paying attention to the direction as his thoughts continually returned to the dark-haired beauty who had somehow wiggled her way into his life.

Glancing up, he found himself standing in front of his small clapboard home. The anger he’d worked so hard to let go of immediately disappeared at the sight of his six-year-old daughter waving to him through the window. He crossed the street, but before he could make it to the porch stairs, she’d rushed through the front door and jumped into his arms.