Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set (30 page)

Read Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set Online

Authors: Jillian Hart,Janet Tronstad

Tags: #Best 2014 Fiction, #Christian, #Fiction, #Historical, #Retail, #Romance

BOOK: Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set
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“I know.” Dark, dim memories of a cold bed and bland food, of stern, overworked women taking care of too many children threatened to well up. Memories she’d thought she’d forgotten. She didn’t want that future for Toby. There was something about him, a sweetness, that grabbed at her heart. “Maybe you know of a family around here looking for a little boy?”

“Times are hard. Many folks are having a hard time providing for the kids they have, but I’ll ask the sheriff. He knows everyone in this town, so he might know of someone.”

“At least there’s a chance.” The boy’s round face and owlish eyes flashed into her mind, an image of him staring at the wall and refusing to talk, refusing to trust. She would pray hard for him, she decided as a familiar man caught her eyes. He made his way into the room, dressed in a shaggy fur coat.

“Tom!” She took a step without realizing she’d stood. She was halfway across the dining room without realizing she’d left the table. She spun around, laughing at herself. “Elijah, I’ll see you later. Thanks for the bacon.” She held up the strip clutched in her good hand.

“Anytime, Miss Eberlee.” He went to tip his hat to her, only to find he wasn’t wearing one. Embarrassment crept across his chiseled face in a pink sweep.

He was funny. Her heart thumped an extra beat, likely in anticipation of being with Tom. He’d come to take her to see her new home.

He stood framed by the doorway with his bulky coat unbuttoned, his blue flannel shirt and red suspenders showing. Tension bunched along his jaw. Fury darkened his face. He did not look glad to see her.

Tom didn’t look glad at all.

Chapter Five

“W
hat are you doin’ with
him?
” Tom demanded, beefy hands curled into fists. “Are you usin’ my dime to see if you can land yourself a bigger fish than me?”

“Why, Tom.” She surged forward, shocked by the words coming out of his mouth. This wasn’t the greeting she’d been expecting. No smile of welcome, no light in his eyes when he gazed upon her. Then she remembered he didn’t know her. They were strangers. She was determined to show him the woman she was. “In time you will come to know that I would never treat you that way. I’m hurt that you think I could,” she said gently.

“Oh.” Tendons stood out in his neck. He shot a cold, aggressive look the marshal’s way. “You were eating with him.”

“Yes, I was. He invited me over so I didn’t have to sit alone, and I’m grateful.” Her face heated, aware of curious diners watching. When she glanced back, the turmoil within her calmed the moment her eyes met Elijah’s blue eyes.

He looked concerned, but he didn’t need to be. She smiled at him to tell him so. Really, everything was going to be all right, but she wasn’t sure he believed her and she felt a little lost. She wanted Tom to be a good man; she needed him to be. “Tom, it’s your proposal that changed my life, and I’m so glad. That’s what matters here.”

“Guess I got all heated up.” He shrugged, self-conscious and a little sheepish. His hazel gaze caught hers bashfully. “Can’t hardly blame me. A pretty lady like you could have her pick of men.”

“Don’t try and soften me with flattery.” But a smile broke through. “It’s true a lady likes compliments.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He had a charming smile and a farmer’s homespun way. “Do you want to see your new home?”

“Very much.” She fetched her coat from the large coat tree by the door, where she’d hung it last night to thaw, ice-driven from the near-blizzard conditions. Now, exactly why did that remind her of Elijah and the way he’d stayed at her side, shielding her from the brunt of the storm? Perhaps any woman would find him hard to forget. As for the snug, fond feeling building in her chest, that was a friendly feeling. Nothing when compared to what she would have with Tom.

“What’s wrong with yer arm?” Tom’s gravelly voice grated harshly. He didn’t help her with her coat as she slipped into it, careful of her splint.

“I fell and apparently broke it, but don’t worry, the doctor said it should heal just fine,” she finished quickly, buttoning up her coat. “By the end of January, it will be good as new.”

“Doctor?” His jaw snapped tight, and his polite tone was strained. “I didn’t agree to pay for no doctor.”

“I don’t expect you to.” She struggled with her mittens. Tom confused her. Perhaps he still feared she might take advantage of him, and it was true enough there were women in the world who thought nothing of such a thing. He would soon learn she was not one of them. He didn’t open the door for her, so she grasped the knob and pulled. Below-zero temperatures hit her like a punch. “I’ve made arrangements with Dr. Frost to work off what I owe him.”

“By doin’ what exactly?” Hazel eyes turned stone hard.

“By cleaning his office.” Now she
was
displeased with him. “I’m not that kind of woman, Tom. I would think you could tell simply by looking at me.”

“Sorry.” He flushed red and bowed his head. He appeared to be humbled, except for the strain snapping along his tight jaw. “I just saw you makin’ cozy with that man at your table, and I thought the worst. Shouldna done that.”

“No, and thank you. How about we make a pact?” She realized the only horse and vehicle tied at the hitching post had to be Tom’s, so she swept snow off the sled’s wooden seat with her sleeve before she sat. “Instead of thinking the worst, we’ll think the best of each other. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Tom shook snow out of a fur robe and handed it to her.

“I’m so glad you are to be my husband, Tom.” She laid her mittened hand over his gloved one, willing her heart to feel. The spark of affection she longed for did not take root. Perhaps that would take time. “I can’t wait for my new life with you to start.”

“Me, either.” The corners of his mouth relaxed. He untied the horse, who flinched when he came near. The horse’s gray flesh rippled and the animal sidestepped.

“Git back here, you old nag.” Tom’s voice held a note of what sounded like affection. “I rescued her from a merchant on the road to Billings not long ago. She was pulling a big heavy wagon all by herself, and it was stuck in a mud bog.”

He paused to sweep snow off his side of the seat and climbed in. “The merchant was beating her something terrible. If you look, you can see the scars on her flanks. Well, the poor thing couldn’t pull that vehicle out of the mud—it would have taken a team of oxen—” He yanked the end of the fur robe over to cover him and snapped the reins. “So I offered the merchant cash for her outright. Twice what she was worth.”

“That was kind of you, Tom.” See, what a good man he was, saving an abused animal, she thought. She eased back against the seat, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“It took her months to recover from her wounds.” He guided the horse down the street into the low morning sun. Shop fronts whipped by and windows glinted in the sunshine. “She took a lot of care and time, poor thing, but she survived.”

“And now she has a good home. You did good, Tom.”

“Oh, pshaw, it wasn’t much.” He blushed bashfully.

Rather cute, she decided, letting out another held-in breath. He had many good features. A high, intelligent forehead, a straight nose and a boyish smile that gave him a friendly quality, like a man she could feel comfortable with. “What is her name?”

“Maggie. I rescued her just in time, too, because my team died not long after. First one, then the other.” His hands gripped the reins firmly with a capable air. “Old age. I couldn’t stand to sell them when they became too infirm to do the work around the farm. My brother lent me one of his horses until Maggie was strong enough to do the hauling.”

“That must have been a hard loss for you.”

“It was. You get attached to the critters.” Tom shrugged shyly.

“Yes, that’s the way it is with horses.” Snowy townscapes gave way to the crisp, clean shine of mantled prairie rolling ahead of them endlessly. “When Ma and I had to sell our mares, it was like losing part of the family.”

“I know what you mean.” His gaze caught hers and held, and in them she thought she saw the same hopes for a compatible and happy marriage. Perhaps he was lonely, the way she’d been. Perhaps he felt empty the way she did, wanting to spend her life loving someone.

They shared a smile, and she wished her heart would spark. She wanted to love him. She wanted it more than anything.

“That’s our place up ahead.” Tom’s voice broke the spell as he nodded to the left. A small smudge darkened the white spread of prairie. As Maggie drew them nearer with the clip-clop of her steeled shoes on snow, the farm became clearer. First a rise of gray smoke, then the faded red side of a barn and finally the mare pulled them onto a rutted driveway.

For the first look at her new home, Christina scooted forward on the seat, straining to see around the curve of the lane. The barn came into view first, paint peeling, the structure listing to one side. Mud stained the lower boards and trailed to the other shedlike structures behind it. Covered pigpens, she realized, mostly by the smell.

“My brother lives over the rise of that hill.” Tom gestured beyond the pigpens. “See the smoke? His wife is lookin’ forward to havin’ another lady around.” Tom yanked on the reins, drawing Maggie to a sudden stop. “Here we are.”

The garbage in the front yard caught her gaze. A rusted washtub full of fallen snow, used tin cans poked up through the mud, edges jagged. What looked like a burning pit, full of refuse waiting to be burned come spring, sat far too close to the sagging board steps leading to the door. No porch, just an unpainted, weathered shanty with a crooked stovepipe jutting out of a half-sloping roof. Obviously Tom had built only half the shanty, which was often the custom of a new homesteader, intending to add the second half of the home later when times were more prosperous.

Obviously that time had never arrived.

“It ain’t much, but it’s home.” Tom rose from the seat and held out his hand to help her. “It’s your home, now.”

“I’m glad to be here.” She scooted across the seat and planted her feet gingerly in the deep snow. “I talked to the minister.” Tom left the horse standing in the bitter wind and hiked across a random board poking up through the snow. “Reverend Hadly can do the ceremony as quick as this afternoon.”

“That soon?” She hated the wobble in her voice.

“Of course, I understand if that’s a mite too quick.” Tom veered to the right, away from the neglected-looking shanty. “I know you ladies like to have things right. Your dress all pressed and your hair done up. But if you’re thinking you want to invite folks, say that marshal, then I have to put my foot down. It would hurt my feelin’s to have you see him more. I’m sorry about it, but you can understand, right?”

“I—” She blinked, realizing he was taking her to see the barn first. “I had no plans to invite anyone to our wedding.”

“Good. That’s settled, at least.” He slopped through ankle-deep mud and muscled open the barn door. “Maybe tomorrow afternoon would be better. We could say our vows and be home in time for you to feed the pigs.”

“The pigs?” She heard them oinking and rustling in the shadows.
She
was supposed to feed them?

“I made it clear in my advertisement.” Tom’s voice hardened, or maybe it was just the darkness that made it seem so. Straw crackled beneath his boots as he lit a lantern. “I said I was a farmer. I was looking for a helpmate.”

“I thought that meant keeping house, cooking, tending the garden.” She searched through her mind but the words printed in the magazine hadn’t led her to believe she would be doing heavy barn work.

“Yes, I want you to do all those things
and
the pigs.” Tom blew out the match and tucked it into the drawer at the base of the lantern. “I was very clear. You aren’t trying to renegotiate with me, are you?”

“No, but I—” Her hopes hit the ground. She didn’t know what to say. Golden light pooled onto the dirty floor and onto the nearest crudely built pen where too many pigs were crammed in a too-small space. Blunt snouts poked out between the wooden rails to sniff in her direction. Several animals squealed in a high, threatening way at her.

“As you can see, it’s too much work for one man. Since my brother took over his wife’s parents’ place, I’ve been hurtin’.” Tom’s beefy frame ambled closer and his voice gentled. “You coming here is an answer to my prayers.”

“You are an answer to mine, too.”
This isn’t as bad as it seems and there’s goodness in everyone,
she reminded herself. Maybe Tom was overwhelmed with work, as he said. Maybe he needed a helpmate as much as she needed one and they could clean up this place and all would be well. It was a desperate thought, but it was all she had to cling to. “Maybe we can improve our lives together.”

“I like the sound of that.” Tom smiled and brushed snow from her hair, and the gesture made her pick up her hopes and pray this could work. “Now come along and I’ll show you the shanty.”

* * *

Elijah couldn’t get the image of Christina and her fiancé out of his head. Tom Rutger clearly looked smitten with her as he’d driven away in his home-built sled. Who wouldn’t be? All it took was one look, one smile and men fell like trees at her feet.

At least, that’s what had happened to him. Elijah squinted against the late-morning sun and clomped up onto the boardwalk. He had to stop thinking about her. He had to stop his heart from caring. What he felt wasn’t right. He just needed to exert a little more willpower and these feelings would fade. This was a little crush, that’s all. Nothing serious.

“Good morning, Marshal.” Arthur Lawson looked up from sweeping a light layer of snow off the walk in front of his mercantile. “Can you believe the storm last night?”

“It must be slowing down business. Not many folks are out and about yet.”

“True, and it’s one of my busiest days of the year.” Arthur sent the last of the snow off the edge of the boardwalk, his work done. “Funny thing happened this morning. I opened my front door and found my boardwalk shoveled clean, like it had been done in the wee hours, with just this fine layer of snow drifted on the walk. Isn’t that something? Someone did a kind deed. Now, what can I do for you? Have you finished your Christmas shopping?”

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