The Stepmother: An Everland Ever After Tale (3 page)

Almost scared, she blurted, “See? I’m not lying.”

“This isn’t a joke? You didn’t set this up?”

It was her turn to laugh then, a despairing bark that matched his. “Why would I do that? Why would I make myself look like a fool?” Then she met his eyes.

“I didn’t write this.”

“How do I know that?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t give a fig about this town. And no one in their right mind would marry me. I’m not…not in a position to marry right now.”

She made a point of looking around the room, at the bare furnishings and the sagging roof. “Looks to me like you need a wife rather badly.”

He snorted. “You need your eyes checked, lady. There’s nothing here for a wife.” She gasped, and he shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him that he’d offended her. He was infuriating.

But he wasn’t entirely unfeeling. He ran his hand through his hair again. Why would she notice that sort of thing, now? “Listen, Miss Almassy. I didn’t write that letter, and if
you
didn’t write it, then that means someone’s playing a not-so-funny trick on us. I don’t like the way that sounds, but I can’t do anything about it tonight. Can you?” Meri shook her head numbly. He sighed. “Then we’ll deal with it tomorrow. You can stay here.”

“Here?” she couldn’t help her squeak.

“Here.” He point at the hearth. “There’s no hotel in town. So you can stay here ‘til you figure out where you’re going. I’ll be in the bedroom with the princess.”

She had to ignore the bit about figuring out where she was going. She “was going”
here
, as far as Meri was concerned. Instead, she asked, “Zelle’s a princess?”

His eyes narrowed. “She’s
my
princess.”

Nodding to show that she understood, Meri hurried to reassure him. “Of course she is. All parents feel that way.”

“How would you know?”

“I…” She was just being polite. “I’ve spent years in school to treat women and children. I didn’t particularly want children of my own, but…” She took a deep breath, and decided to show him that she wasn’t completely unfeeling. “When I was young, I lost both of my siblings to childhood diseases. I decided to become a doctor to fight against that kind of loss.” Surely he’d understand that, if he was a doctor himself? No matter his specialty, out here he’d have to treat all sorts of people.

And was it her imagination, or did his expression soften a bit? “I’ll make you up a pallet on the floor. We can talk more in the morning over breakfast. It’s beans.”

And then he stomped out the front door, letting in another blast of frigid air. He returned, lugging her trunk and bag and pushing them into the corner. He brought out some musty old blankets and hastily arranged them for her, and then pointed out anything she might need for the evening. She didn’t say anything in response, until he opened the door to the bedroom to slip back through. He paused, turned slightly, and said in a low voice, “Good night, Miss Almassy.”

Long after his breathing evened with sleep, and she was left to lie on her lumpy bed of old blankets, Meri whispered, “Good night, Doctor Carpenter.”

It was heavenly to be able to stretch out after the stagecoach journey, even if the bed wasn’t anything like home. The thought of home brought tears to her eyes, because she’d pinned all of her hopes on this place becoming her home. She’d make it cozy, along with Doctor Carpenter, and they’d have something to be proud of. But he wasn’t who she thought he was, and someone owed her for that. For dashing all of her hopes. Tomorrow, she vowed. Tomorrow she’d get to the bottom of this.

How could a doctor claim to be devoted to his art, but then tell her that he wasn’t going to marry her? On the other hand, he
had
let her stay here, proving that he wasn’t completely heartless. But if he hadn’t written the advertisements to begin with, then there was a possibility that he wasn’t nearly the dedicated doctor he’d—or someone had—claimed him to be. On the
other
other hand, she’d seen the way he’d cradled Zelle—his daughter who looked nothing like him, and must be a constant reminder of his dead wife—and knew that he was capable of gentleness and devotion, despite his appearance.

There’s hope for you yet, Jack Carpenter
.

Meri woke before dawn, shivering. The coals in the hearth told her that Doctor Carpenter hadn’t bothered to feed the fire; he probably hadn’t needed to, buried under all those blankets. The small room had been toasty enough when they’d gone to sleep, despite the comings and goings, but now she wished she’d worn her jacket to sleep.

It wasn’t until she heard it again that she realized the cold hadn’t woken her; a noise had. Lying there in the darkness, she tried to pinpoint it.
There!
It came again. A mewling cry from Doctor Carpenter’s room, followed by his low murmur. The child must’ve been an early riser, but he didn’t sound happy about it. In fact, when Zelle gave out a loud whimper, Meri realized that the girl wasn’t happy either.

She busied herself with folding up the blankets she’d used as a bed the previous night, and then rummaged through the kitchen cupboards as the rising sun slowly lit the house through the single window along the back wall. Since Doctor Carpenter still hadn’t come out, she thought that she’d make them some breakfast; not because she wanted to impress him, she told herself, but rather to thank him for allowing her to stay there the night before. She lit the fire in the stove, and began searching for something to make for breakfast.

Unfortunately, it was difficult to cook in someone else’s kitchen…and not just because she couldn’t find anything that remotely resembled the breakfast food she was used to. There was only the littlest bit of milk in the icebox, and no eggs or porridge anywhere. When he still hadn’t emerged by the time she’d finished her search, Meri rolled up her sleeves and made a batch of biscuits. After mixing the flour and salt and lard together, she rolled out the dough, cut them quickly, and popped them into the oven.

She was just arranging them on one of the four plates in the house, with a little of the jam she’d found in the cupboard, when Doctor Carpenter came out of his room. He was cradling a sniffling Zelle, but his attention wasn’t on her. Instead, he seemed almost riveted by the biscuits on the table.

He stalked towards her—towards them—and she watched his nose flare as he sniffed their delicious scent. She told herself that it was only her imagination that made him look like a great panther hunting for something juicy, as if she was his prey. A secret part of her was disappointed.

“You made these?”

It was a stupid question, and she raised a brow at his accusation. “Of course.” Who else would’ve made them? “You’re low on most supplies, but I found enough for biscuits.”

His expression turned wary then, and he pulled out a chair with his free hand and sat down, patting Zelle’s bottom comfortingly. She whimpered, and snuggled deeper into the crook of his shoulder, and Meri’s heart tightened at the sight.

This little girl loved and trusted her papa. Surely the man couldn’t be too coarse, too rugged, if he took care of her so well? The way he was rubbing her back now, absently, told Meri that he loved his daughter. He was still flicking his attention between Meri and the biscuits, though, so she moved the plate a little closer to him, and he all-but-snatched one, his movements strangely furtive, as if she was going to take the plate away again.

But when he bit into it, she watched those mysterious blue eyes close in what could only be bliss. He sighed, and then began to chew. Meri sank into a chair quietly, unwilling to disturb him. He finished chewing, and swallowed, and then opened his eyes again, finding hers unerringly.

“Thank you.”

That was it. Just
thank you
. No acknowledgement of how empty his kitchen otherwise was—she’d found the leftover beans that he was obviously planning on eating this morning—or how she’d had to hunt through all of his cupboards to find the ingredients. Just
thank you
.

Meri gripped her hands in front of her, under the table, and wondered why his thanks made her stomach flop over.

Doctor Carpenter took another biscuit—the first had disappeared already—more politely this time. Still watching her, he spoke to his daughter. “Miss Almassy made us some biscuits, honey. Maybe having a momma around this house don’t sound so bad.”

Meri’s eyes flew wide, and she pushed her chair back from the table, more to get away from his gaze and the strange flutterings she felt at his casual comment than any real reason to stand. But once she was up, she gathered two other plates and a small knife she’d found, and placed some jam on one of them for Doctor Carpenter.

While she bustled, she could hear him speaking to Zelle. “Come on, Princess. Just try a little bit. They’re much better than beans.”

When Meri turned back to the two of them, she saw the little girl sitting across his lap now, but her head was still buried in his chest, her little hands gripping his shirt—the same gray one he’d worn yesterday. She was making whimpering noises, and when he said “Come on, honey, just a little bit?” she shook her head and started to cry.

Meri placed another biscuit on Doctor Carpenter’s plate and put it in front of the pair, just as he popped the rest of Zelle’s biscuit into his mouth with a sigh. She was standing so close to him now that she could touch him. If she wanted to. Which she didn’t. Because he wasn’t what she wanted in a husband.

Was he?

He was a doctor, someone who would allow her to practice her art. He might be gruff, but he was gentle with his daughter, and kind enough to offer her a place to stay. Maybe he wasn’t so far from what she wanted, after all.

The sudden thought made her smile a bit at her own indecisiveness, just as Doctor Carpenter turned to look up at her. Her expression froze, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s been up all night, miserable, and now she doesn’t want to eat.”

Unthinking, Meri put her hand on the back of Zelle’s head, like she’d do to any of her patients. The girl’s hair was like cornsilk, such a pale blonde that it was hard to imagine what Doctor Carpenter’s wife must have looked like. Someone—the doctor?—had cut her hair haphazardly, so that the shaggy mop barely brushed her collar. In that regard, the little girl’s hair style looked remarkably like her father’s, despite the difference in shade.

So intent was she on the unusual paleness of Zelle’s locks that it took a moment to realize that they were also quite warm. Meri shifted her hand, just managing to touch the smooth little forehead before it burrowed deeper into her daddy’s chest, and confirmed her suspicions.

“She’s got a fever.” She moved her hand to the girl’s back, and was shocked a moment later when he laid his down on top of it. Her hand trapped between his big, warm one, and Zelle’s back, Meri could do nothing more than freeze and stare down at him. Again, he seemed not to notice the frisson of lightening that shot up her arm at their contact.

“I know.” Had his voice always been so deep? His eyes always so blue? Meri blinked, wondering if she was getting sick herself. Desperate to put some distance between them, she pulled her hand from under his and moved back around to the chair she’d claimed as her own. Funny, though, she wasn’t hungry in the least bit now.

“I thought she felt warm, but it’s not as bad as last fall. We stopped in Missouri on the way out here for two weeks, to help her get better. She’s not as hot this time, and is more…”

He trailed off, looking down at his daughter with a mix of hope and dread. Her heart went out to him, having seen parents with sick children so many times. Zelle was all he had—all he had of his late wife—and Meri could tell that he loved the little girl very, very much. He might be a doctor, but he was still a parent, first. “More lively?”

“Yeah.” Doctor Carpenter’s gaze caught hers again, and Meri felt like a trapped butterfly. Heavens, but she was being fanciful! “Yeah, she’s miserable, but not as miserable as she was then.”

She forced herself to nod. “Well, if you’d like, I’m happy to watch her while you go out to do whatever you need to do around the homestead." He hadn’t been out to take care of the morning chores yet. And besides, if she spent some time with the girl, Meri might be able to figure out which of her meager supply of medicines might help Zelle.