Romance: Young Adult Romance: The Perfect Game (A Highschool Football Romance) (Bad Boy Nerd New Adult Romance) (33 page)

Confused murmurs hushed through the room. Cora’s eyes grew wide and Joshua stood up.

“Mail-order what? Joshua, what is Walter talking about?”

“Enough of this,” Joshua said firmly.

Walter’s brow furrowed as he peered at Cora.

“It must have been quite the opportunity for a poor, orphan hosiery girl,”

“Stop this at once!” Joshua’s fist pounded at the table, and gasps of surprise rippled throughout the room.

Cora’s eyes began swelling, and her chest tightened up, as if she were unable to breath.

I didn’t want any of this
, Cora thought.

She looked up at Joshua who was shouting at Walter to get out, to leave her alone, to leave his family alone.

Cora didn’t want to cause so much trouble.

“The board of trustees will hear about this,” Walter said on his way out. “Say goodbye to your precious orchard, Joshua. A mill is what’s going to bring business. A mill to get rid of all that darned wasted-space and pointless cherry trees of yours. Your father was a sap, and so was your grandfather. But I--”

Joshua walked toward Walter, and a few other guests stepped in front to hold Joshua back as Walter slunk out.

His heart was pounding. His mother, confused, kept demanding questions from him, and all he could think to do was protect Cora. It was over. All of it. He lost everything.

Joshua turned around toward his table, only to stop in his tracks. He looked amongst the room, which was now in chaos of people muttering, not knowing what to make of the scene.

“Cora?” he called. She was gone.

The Lil’ Miss was making her way back east, and stopping once again for Cora. This time, though, she seemed less a fantastical vision of adventure and freedom, and more like the old hunk of metal that she was.

“Just one ticket,” Cora received the stub through the window at the station.

Mr. Stanfield’s brow furrowed upon seeing the face at the booth, his gray eyes glinting underneath his spectacles.

“Miss Cora…”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stanfield,” Cora’s eyes glistened, but she held back tears. “It didn’t work out…”

Mr. Stanfield sighed.

“I’m awfully sad to hear that, Miss Cora. I thought for sure that you were the one.”

“The one?” Cora perked up curiously.

“Oh, yes’m,” Mr. Stanfield said. “I’ve known Joshua Dansby for a long time, since he was a wiry young boy. Knew his grandfather very well, God rest his soul.”

He sighed and came out from the door of the station house to meet face to face with Cora.

“Joshua was always driven. Probably the sense of responsibility he took when his father passed, and he was left to tend to everything. But you know, as good lookin’ as he was, there was never a gal that could love him.”

Cora laughed amidst the emotions swelling.

“He’s
really
difficult.”

Mr. Stanfield let out a chuckle.

“He is. But I think it’s more than that. Part of it is, I think, he never knew how to love himself. He always had a higher expectation for himself that he never placed on anyone else...and it drove him to loneliness.”

He sighed and looked at his feet.

“I saw how he looked at you that first day, when he realized you were the one he was supposed to meet…”

“With disappointment?” Cora pursed her lips.

“With hope.”

“I just made things more complicated,” she looked away.

The train’s engine began to whir.

Mr. Stanfield tipped his hat.

“It’s time.”

Cora nodded, and gestured to the side of the platform.

“Make sure that Kan gets back to Joshua. And--and tell him--” She pursed her lips. “Tell him I said goodbye.”

Mr. Stanfield nodded and turned toward the train, shouting “All aboard the Lil’ Miss, leaving the station in five minutes!”

Cora let out a deep breath as she turned around, once again facing the great, steam locomotive. The black body glinted in the sun, though an Autumn chill rippled through. Sounds of people boarding and clicking their feet, pulling their luggage across the wooden boardwalk rang in her ears.

“Isn’t this where I began?” Cora said to herself.

“But it doesn’t have to end like this.”

Cora turned at the voice. “Joshua!”

He breathed heavily, and removed his hat, his dark hair tousled, some strands lifting in the breeze. His blue eyes were deep and hallowed, and Cora’s chest swelled with emotion.

She didn’t need this. Not at her getaway.

“You’ve lost everything,” she said. “Walter Howell’s exposed our secret, your family knows I’m a penniless orphan girl, and you have absolutely nothing left.”

Joshua brought his hand to Cora’s cheek, and she closed her eyes, her heart feeling as if it needed to burst, feeling the warmth of him near her.

“I still have one thing left…” he brought his forehead to rest on hers.

“Please, don’t…” Cora muttered through tears. “You’re making it more difficult than it has to be.”

“I’ve had plenty of practice with a difficult woman,” he laughed.

Joshua brought his hand to the chin of the brown-eyed woman in front of him, leaning her face to look at his. He nearly missed her. He was out of breathe. He was out of words. And yet, in this moment, all he could think about was how much he wanted her.

“You are impossible, stubborn, obnoxious, and in fact one of the most annoying women I have ever met,” Joshua laughed. “But,” he wiped his thumb across her cheek, swiping away a tear. “You’re imaginative, and resourceful, you’re smarter than you think you are, and braver than anyone I know. And my goodness,” he cupped her face with both of his strong hands. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

He brought her into an embrace, enveloping himself around her small frame, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair, feeling her heartbeat against his.

“I don’t care about the land, or the inheritance. I don’t care what people think, Cora.” He squeezed her tight. “I want you. I want you and all of you--even the annoying, impossible parts. I love you, Cora Sutton. I love you.”

Cora’s heart swelled with emotion. She felt weak, as if she could just fall to the ground right then and there, but around her, Joshua Dansby held on. And he held on tight, his strong arms wrapped around her, as if she could forever be safe. And it wasn’t a fairytale. It was her life.

“I love you, too” she spoke into his broad chest. “But,” she pushed away and looked up at him, his blue eyes glistening. “I’m not Cora Sutton,” she said. “I’m Cora Dansby.”

He smiled, and leading her chin close to his, their lips met, and in a moment, both were suspended in time, as if nothing moved around them. When it ended, for a brief moment, his heart danced at the way the loose strands of her hair flitted in the breeze. He brushed his hand against her cheek once more, and smiled.

“Mrs. Cora Dansby,” he said. “Be my wife.”

And she was.

*****

THE END

Olive stared out the window, watching as the scenery
went by
. There was a chill in the car, and she wondered where it was coming from. There didn’t appear to be any cracks in the strong plate of glass she was gazing through. The door to the cabin was closed. She glanced quickly at the other passengers in the car but none of them looked chilly. They were relaxed, reading books or newspapers. One older lady was knitting quietly, her needles clicking together softly every now and then.

Olive rubbed her arms softly and lifted her hand to shield a yawn. It would be only a few hours until she was in Nevada. There was a small town there that would be Olive’s new home. At 23, she was ready for a change. Her large family left
behind;
she looked forward to a more solitary lifestyle, with just a husband until she would perhaps have a child. No more hustle and bustle. No more noise, talking, clamoring, complaining.

She wouldn’t miss it.

As the train traveled further toward the West, she began to feel much warmer. She didn’t need her gloves and stripped them off. Soon, her shawl and bonnet also came off. She was wearing several layers under her outer
dress,
and she was beginning to regret it.

She was anxious to get there. When it
was announced
they would arrive at her Nevada station in 20 minutes, she pulled the envelope and letter from her pocket and read through it. The man who had sent her a ticket to come across the country and be his bride sounded like a professional but someone who also had compassion. He was a carpenter – a very successful one from the sound of it. He
sounded
charming from the letter. She was nervous and excited about the prospect of leaving her
big
family to be somewhere completely new and different.

Olive was hoping this man that she was meeting, Henry, did not want to have a lot of children. She’d been afraid to broach the subject because she was afraid he wouldn’t allow her to come if
she
revealed that she wasn’t interested in a brood of babies running around. She’d watched her
own
mother give birth too many times and wasn’t interested in the prospect at all.

There
were
only a few minutes left before the train would reach the station. She was warm now,
very warm
.

It was late spring of her 23
rd
year, pushing into summertime and she already missed the colors and vibrancy of Virginia. This place she was going to looked dry and dusty. It looked bleak and miserable. She had a feeling the people would look just as
bleak
and
miserable
once she
actually
stepped off the train.

She discovered she was right as soon as she placed a foot on the long wooden planks that made up the platform between the train and the building. She was ashamed that her hair and face were wet with sweat and patted herself with a handkerchief again and again. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference. The moment she pulled the cloth away, she felt the drips
rise
again.

Olive wondered if it was possible that the inside of the building was cooler.
She hoped so. She picked up her carrying bag and her sewing box and went to the door. A
man
standing next to it, leaning against the wall, stepped in front of her and pushed open the door, allowing her to go through. She lowered her head, looking up with only her eyes and nodding. “Thank you,
sir,
” she said in a low voice.

“You’re welcome, miss.”

As soon as she went in the building, she could see that she was the only woman in the place. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
Men were milling
all around, talking, walking through, carrying boxes and other items.

She looked all around the room. Thankfully, the huge stone fireplace deep inside one of the walls was not lit and looked like it hadn’t been for quite a while. She moved to a bench and sat down, smoothing her skirts out in front of her and wishing she could take them off and wear pants like the men all around her. Even if she could just be wearing one skirt, it would be cooler than the layers she had on. She sighed heavily.

None of the men in the place looked like they were going to take notice of her. She didn’t know what Henry looked
like,
but she assumed since she was the only woman here, he should be able to find her
easily
.

She looked around again and wondered if Henry would look for her outside, see that she wasn’t out there waiting for him and leave. There could be little chance of
that
unless he
were
a complete simpleton to think she would stand out there in that heat watching for someone she wouldn’t recognize.

She sighed again and glanced at each of the men in her line of sight to see if any of them showed any interest in the only woman sitting in the room. They
were
watching her. They
were
looking at her. But they weren’t showing the kind of interest she was
looking for
. They looked curious. There was no real intention behind their glances. They were just as much in the dark
who
she was as she was them.

The hour ticked by, then another. Olive had taken to shaking her head and wondering what was going on. The sun was going down rapidly. Soon it would be pitch dark. She wasn’t sure the place would be open much longer.

She stood up and went to the clerk’s window. He was looking down at a list of names and destinations, running his finger down one at a time. He looked up when she cleared her throat.

His face was immediately
surprised,
and he raised his eyebrows. “May I help you, miss?”

“It looks like my ride forgot about
me,
” Olive said, her voice coming out smooth and soft. “I don’t know what to do.”

He tilted his head to the side and glanced
behind
her at the men milling about the room. “None of these men catch your fancy?”

Her face
flushed,
and she felt hot. “Sir, I was supposed to be picked up by a gentleman and taken into town. I am not here for any other purposes. As you can see, I have two bags with
me,
and I
am not exactly dressed
for this weather, am I? The man who sent for me paid ahead of time for the ticket. Perhaps he is in the book of
yours,
and you can find him for me.”

The surprise on the clerk’s face
was renewed
. “Pardon me, miss. What is your name? I will look it up.”

“My name is Olive Kelsey. His name is Henry. Henry Lewis.”

This time, the look that crossed the clerk’s face was one of recognition. “Oh, I will send a messenger to
go find
him. Please go ahead and sit back down. I will let you know when we find him.”

“Thank you.” Olive turned away and walked slowly back to the bench. She had been sitting there for over two hours.
She
didn’t want to sit down again. She wanted to leave. She would rather have walked to town than sit on that bench for another moment. Instead of sitting, she went to the biggest window she could find and stood in front of it, staring out.
As it got darker, she could see people lighting lanterns, and a man was walking down the street, lighting the gas lanterns that dotted the street with a long, lit torch.

Directly in front of the window, across the street, she could see a
very small
general store, a place where people could get eggs,
sugar,
and salt. To the right of the
store
, there was a grain mill and on the other side, a saddle shop.
There were several different shops lining
the
street,
but she couldn’t make out the names or the purpose of the shops in the dim light.

The town stretched on from
there,
but she could only see the street in front of her, to the left
and to
the right. The road
was made
of
dirt
and there were horses with riders passing by almost constantly, kicking up the dust. She saw only a few women. From the look of them, she understood why the clerk may have
mistaken
her for one of them. There didn’t seem to be any women of quality, at least not on this street. Soon the sun was completely down. She continued to watch the flickering lanterns until she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Miss?”

She turned and had to look up. The man
was at least
a foot taller than her, with a broad chest and kind brown eyes. “Yes?”

“You were brought here by Henry Lewis?” he asked.

She nodded without answering.

He gave her a complete look, from her eyes to her shoes and
back
up. She avoided doing the same. She didn’t want him to think she was rude. “I…I am his brother, Eric. I’m sorry there was confusion and that you had to sit here waiting for so long. It seems
…
Henry didn’t tell us you were coming. May I see the letter he sent you?”

Olive kept herself from sighing. She still had the letter in the pocket of her
dress,
and she pulled it out, handing it to him.
She
felt like she was having to prove she wasn’t lying. It offended her that she
wasn’t just picked
up and taken to her destination, as promised.

Her face must have betrayed her thoughts because the look on his changed and he leaned forward a little. “The clerk has already verified that Henry
really
did send for you. I would just like to see the letter he sent you because, as I said, we were all surprised to hear that he did this.”

He opened the letter and
read it quickly
. She couldn’t tell what he thought by the look on his face. Then he refolded it and handed it back to her without a word about it.

“I will take you to the family house so we can decide what to do.”

It was Olive’s turn to look surprised. She tilted her head and bunched her skirt up in one hand. “What to do? I don’t understand. I was supposed to
be picked
up and taken back to the home where I would be married and stay with Henry. What is going on?”

Eric looked down, pressing his cheek out with his tongue and then licking his lips, nervously. “I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

Olive frowned and tilted her head to the side. “An accident? What kind of accident? What do you mean? Is Henry all right?”

He hesitated before answering, glancing over her shoulder and out the window. She wondered what he was thinking and what had happened.

“I’m afraid
not,
” Eric answered, finally, dropping his eyes back to her face. “He’s been killed.”