Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) (9 page)

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Authors: Heidi Vanlandingham

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Fifth In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #Tennessee, #Responsibility, #Twelve-Year-Old, #Brother, #Train Travel, #Chattanooga, #Groom Deceased, #Hotel Owner, #Little Girl, #Single Father, #Widower

BOOK: Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16)
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He motioned with a wave of his hand to a door in the corner to their right. “I also had an earth closet built through that door. It’s completely private without much of the odors associated with them.”

From the burning over her face, she knew she was bright red. She’d never met anyone who would talk so casually about the lavatory, especially in front of a lady. He was now her husband, so maybe this was one of the things she would have to get used to.

Turning back into the kitchen, she walked through the dining room, running her fingertips across the wooden back of the closest chair, and cleared her throat. “And the bedrooms?”

He moved beside her. “Stella’s is the first room on the right.”

She jumped, not expecting him to have moved quite so quickly and quietly. “May I see it?”

He shrugged and opened the door. “Typical little girl’s room, I think.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she peered inside the room. There were clothes scattered all around the room, even draping over the end of the bed, which hadn’t been made. Instead of dolls and books, her new daughter had a pistol on her pillow and a small rifle propped against the wall beside the small cherry wood dresser. “That is definitely
not
a little girl’s room. My brother would
love
that room.”

He stared down at her a moment with a thoughtful frown on his face but instead of saying anything, he only turned and opened the door behind them. “This will be Alex’s room.”

She peeked in to see a normal, tidy room with a single bed, one small nightstand, and an armoire, thankful their mess hadn’t made its way into this room as well. “He will love this. The light blue on the walls is his favorite color.”

“Our room is at the end of the hall.”

Her feet rooted to the floor.
Our?
He’d said their marriage would be platonic—that she wouldn’t have to meet the normal wifely duties. So why were they sharing a room? Before he turned around and noticed her absence, she forced herself to walk toward him, following him into the larger room.

Her eyes widened when she saw the spindle-post bed. The covers looked as if they’d been kicked off the bed. She’d never seen a bed so large. The dark brown, almost black stain on the tall spindle corner posts and massive hardboard was intimidating to say the least. On either side stood matching nightstands, a plain glass lamp adorning each.

The double window had a cushioned window seat, which would be perfect to sit in and read…after she cleared off the enormous pile of clothes. Along the wall opposite the window stood a monstrous mahogany armoire with a matching dressing mirror tucked into the corner next to it. “Are there any clothes left in the armoire?”

He ignored her barb and picked an imaginary piece of dust off his jacket sleeve. “I’m afraid I don’t have another room.” His steady gaze met hers. “I will keep my word—I will wait until you are ready.”

His eyes burned into hers and her stomach fluttered at the thought of him touching her. She had lied to herself before—she was falling for Sebastian and had no clue what to do about it.

“Hello?” Martha’s voice echoed through the empty house. “Where are you two hiding? Your guests are almost here and you haven’t even started! Good thing I’m such a wonderful mother—I’ve arranged for McCord’s to cater tonight’s little party.”

Lucie couldn’t help the smile spreading over her face. “She’s amazing.”

Sebastian groaned. “Wait until the newness has worn off. You might rethink your opinion of my mother.”        

She watched his wide shoulders as he walked toward the kitchen, Martha’s commanding tone echoing around the room. “I will always think she’s amazing,” she whispered then followed the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

Lucie
slumped down in the dining room chair, her eyes glued to the stove. She’d been married for a week and a half and nothing good had happened since the ceremony, other than people bringing by food so she wouldn’t have to cook. She dreaded the next day because she would actually have to begin cooking.

Sebastian had been spending most of his time at the hotel, so she’d rarely seen him, which meant she was one-on-one with Stella. Every day, he would come home for a quick dinner, tuck his daughter into bed, and then leave without saying more than a word or two to either her or Alex. He would return, crawling into bed after putting in a long night at the hotel, and get up just after dawn to do it all over again.

Stella hated her, and she was beginning to wonder if Sebastian might dislike her as well. For a six-year-old girl, Stella was as cantankerous as an old man and just as clever at getting her own way. No matter what Lucie said, she disagreed. If she told her to clean her room, she would mess it up more. Alex had never been this difficult, but her father and stepmother wouldn’t have put up with any disobedience either.

    It had taken her most of the week to pick up the house, one room at a time, and do all of the laundry. In the evening, Alex helped her wash the dishes, so they too were back in their appointed spots in the small cupboard. The small pie safe had enough food to last a few more days, although she had no idea what some of the items were used for.

Lucie still helped out at the hotel, but her main goal was to learn how to cook. She wanted to prepare delicious meals for her new family. The cook had been helpful, giving her a few lessons on several easy dishes, but Lucie was wary of trying them without help.

She sighed, her restless fingers turning the plate of cookies around in a circle on the table. The evening had been ruined before it even started. Stella had been told two days ago to clean her room and she still hadn’t cleaned it. What she really needed was for her husband to put his foot down and make her pick her things up.

She was so confused. In the past two days, Sebastian had seemed more distant than he usually did, as if something weighed heavily on his mind. They’d settled into a comfortable routine in the evenings. Quite often, she would catch him watching her, but he would turn away without saying anything.  The few times they had talked, the conversation usually turned to Stella. Sebastian was worried about his daughter, of that Lucie was certain, but she had no idea how to fix it.

The front door banged open, startling her. Wide-eyed, she jumped to her feet with her hand splayed across her chest then relaxed when she saw her brother.

“Hi, sissy!” Alex gave her a big grin and walked into her embrace.

Her day suddenly brightened. No matter what mood she was in, her brother always managed to make her spirits lift. She hugged him close, knowing times like this would soon stop. He was getting too old for hugs. “So, what did you learn today?”

He dropped his lunch pail on the table and picked up a cookie, which disappeared in a few bites. “Nothin’ much. Teacher is giving us a test tomorrow over the War Between the States, although when I told her we called it the Great Rebellion, she insisted we use the correct Southern term since we live here now.”

“I agree with her. The last thing you need is to make enemies because of where you moved from. Papa told me stories of how touchy people were during the war, even before it started. As time passes, so will the bitterness between the Northern and Southern states.” She tousled his hair as he grabbed another cookie. “I’m very thankful for that; otherwise, our moving here wouldn’t have been so easy.”

“Because we were born in the North?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She glanced at the door. “Alex, where’s Stella?”

He shrugged. “Teacher asked her to stay after school for a few minutes—probably got into trouble again. I wanted to get home to get my studyin’ done. When Sebastian gets home, he promised to take me to the livery.” His hazel-blue eyes lit up in excitement. “I get to learn how to ride a horse!”

She frowned. “Really? He didn’t say anything to me.”

Alex shrugged, stuffing a fourth cookie in his mouth. Grabbing his tablet out of the pail, he went to his room. “Maybe he forgot. I can stop studyin’ if you need help with supper.”

She watched the door close behind him with a sharp
snick
. “Well, at least one of us seems to have found a bit of happiness.”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, she walked outside and leaned against the porch railing, rubbing at the ache inside of her chest. She had no idea how it had happened, but she wanted more from her marriage. So much more. With a hard shiver from the cold breeze coming in from the North, she stared down the empty street, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth and hoping Stella had gone to see Martha.

Glancing up at the darkening sky, she sighed, and went back inside to warm up the last dish for their supper. Neither she nor Alex had ever had chicken potpie, so their dinner would be interesting.

Once the table was set and the food ready, she pulled out the dessert she’d made that afternoon. With the ingredients she’d found in the pie safe, along with the gift of a few eggs, milk, and cream from the cook at McCord’s, she’d managed to make a pudding dish, one of the few dishes she’d learned from her mother before she died. She hoped Sebastian and Stella liked it as much as she and Alex did.

Just as she pulled dinner from the oven, Sebastian arrived early, true to his word, with his daughter in tow. She glared at Lucie, daring her to say something. No matter how much she wanted to, Lucie knew it would only make matters worse, and she refused to play the six-year-old’s game.

The evening sped by and before she knew it, Sebastian was tucking Stella into bed. Lucie nervously tugged on her blouse and, taking a deep breath, entered the room. “May I have a word?”

The apprehension built inside her chest until she thought her lungs would burst. He glanced at her and nodded. Stella’s eyes narrowed. Heart pounding, Lucie forced the words through her dry lips. “I have asked Stella many times over the past week to clean her room—help me wash all of the clothes lying everywhere, pick up her books and guns, but she has refused. I told her yesterday that if she didn’t do it, I would do it for her, but she wouldn’t like it.”

Lucie waited with bated breath. The longer it took for Sebastian to respond, the more her lungs begged for relief. The blank look on his face frustrated her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking or if he thought she’d overstepped her place. When he gave her a quick nod, her breath rushed out in a loud
whoosh
.

“Is this true?” Sebastian asked his daughter.

“Yes,” Stella mumbled.

“Whether you like it or not, Lucie is a part of our family now. You will obey her and do what she says, Stella. Do you understand?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned forward, giving her father a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned over onto her side and faced away from them.

Sebastian stared at his daughter for a moment, then got up from the bed and walked toward Lucie. With his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her from the room and closed the door behind him.

Lucie’s insides tingled from the weight of his hand, the transfer of heat through her blouse. She liked the warm feeling filling her as they walked side by side to the front of the house. It was the first time he’d touched her since the wedding. Each night he would crawl into bed, lying still beside her, and each night she prayed he would kiss her.

Stopping in the middle of the living room, she forced her lips into a smile. “Are you returning to the hotel now?”

He nodded and turned the front door knob but didn’t open the door. With his back to her, he spoke. “I know my daughter is a handful. I would like to know what you’re going to do to her room.”

“You have given her many nice things, and all she does is throw them on the floor. I’m going to clean her room and take those things away. She needs to learn to appreciate what she has, Sebastian.”

He nodded again, and without another word, shut the door behind him.

With a sigh, she went to the bedroom to prepare for bed.

* * *

He stood in the middle of the house, moonlight skittering over the furniture and softly illuminating the area surrounding him. The very clean area around him. The only other time the house had been this neat and tidy had been the day he and Stella had moved in. Ever since, the piles had continued to grow.

Since Maggie left, he used to tell himself he didn’t have time, what with running the hotel and taking care of Stella. But he knew it had all been an excuse. He simply hadn’t cared. In his effort to be a good father, he had failed his daughter. He used to think he had something to prove to everyone who told him he shouldn’t be raising his daughter alone. Now he wondered if his relationship with his father—or lack of one—had shaped him into what he’d fought so hard not to become—his father. Had pride done this to them both?

He glanced at the corner cabinet to see the white dishes sparkling with a soft glow. There was even a bowl full of autumn plants, the yellows and oranges adding a splash of color against the dark table. The kitchen was also spotless, not a crumb in sight.

Slowly turning the knob to his daughter’s room, he glanced over at the small bundle underneath the yellow quilt. He loved his daughter, but he simply didn’t know what to do with a girl. His mother was right. He was raising her as he had been raised—as a little boy. The messiness of Stella’s room and the tidiness of the rest of the house was painfully obvious now that Lucie had pointed it out to him. He was just so busy…or was he creating the work as an escape? He didn’t want to look too closely at that question. He was afraid of the answer.

He closed the door and also glanced into Alex’s room. The floor of the boy’s room was spotless, his shoes tucked neatly next to his bed. A small pile of clothes, still folded, lay on the dresser with his small lunch pail and tablet beside them. A soft, snuffling snore sounded from the middle of the bed then he turned over, pulling the covers up over his small shoulder. Sebastian smiled. Alex was a good kid.

Because of Lucie.

He stared at the closed door of his own room, his tread light against the hallway’s wooden floor. Creeping into his room, he changed out of his clothes and slid under the quilt, quickly turning onto his left side, finding himself in front of Lucie’s sleeping face.

Her long black eyelashes created thick crescents on her cheeks. Her pink lips were slightly parted as she made a quiet
puffing
noise in her sleep. The long flow of her braid mesmerized him as it draped over her shoulder and arm, her hand tucked underneath her pillow. In the moonlight, her hair looked shiny and black as a raven’s wing. The moon’s soft glow highlighted her pale skin.

She was so young, and compared to the women he was around all day, fragile. She wasn’t as skittish as she had been when she and her brother had first arrived at the hotel. She’d put on some weight, which he liked. She was so beautiful.

He reached out and held a loose strand of hair that had escaped her thick braid; caressing the silky hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. It was as soft as he’d believed it to be. He slowly moved his gaze back to her face and found her green eyes staring back at him.

“I’ve wanted to touch your hair since I saw you sitting like a lost mouse in my hotel.”

She blinked but didn’t say anything, simply continued to stare. He saw the trust in her eyes, and something else he couldn’t quite grasp.

He let her hair fall back to the mattress and tucked his own hand between his head and the goose feather pillow. Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, surprised at the warmth spreading through him from that small touch. Pulling away just enough to hold her wide-eyed gaze, he whispered, “Thank you, Lucie.” The icy wall around his heart cracked as he stared into her eyes.

Her shapely brows drew together. “For what?”

“For everything. You have worked a miracle on my home—I’ve never seen it so clean. For making sure there’s food on the table and sitting down like a family should. For caring about my daughter.” What he’d said wasn’t enough. He would change that though. He would figure out a way to show her too. Somehow.

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