A Bride in Store (16 page)

Maybe that was for the best. She couldn’t pretend she belonged in Will’s arms just because she’d imagined how they’d feel around her for a second. She’d come to Salt Flatts for Axel Langston, not William Stanton.

And yet she’d thought about another man during her fiancé’s kiss. She tried to pull away from Axel’s embrace again, but one of his arms remained locked around her waist.

She’d have to work extra hard so they could earn enough to send Will to school as soon as possible. For how could she live with herself if she couldn’t stop thinking about Will whenever she was with Axel?

———

Will coughed again, but the lump in his throat rivaled the knot in his stomach and refused to budge. “I think I accidentally inhaled something.” Something sour and bitter that stopped a man from breathing and his heart from beating—the obliterated hope that Axel and Eliza would find each other unsuitable.

As Axel’s obvious best man, he’d expected he’d have to endure their wedding kiss. But what he’d walked in on was no simple kiss. How could a woman who couldn’t have been with a man for more than a few hours be so entangled in his arms already?

He rubbed his neck and blinked his eyes, as itchy as if sand had lodged there, along with the gravel in his throat. “Must have been a gnat or something.” He took a big breath, trying not to look at Eliza. Except he couldn’t help but stare at Axel’s hand possessively grasping her waist. “I came back to help Eliza close the shop, though I’m obviously not needed.”

“Nice to see you too, buddy.”

Will shook himself. “Sorry, it’s not every day I walk in on—” He waved his hand absently in their direction but stopped his tongue before he gave away any more of his feelings. “Glad you’re back.”

And thankfully, when Eliza tried to take another step away, Axel finally let go. Once out of his arms, she turned, flipped open the cashbox, and started counting the bills—but that didn’t hide the blush coloring the back of her neck. Had she been miffed he’d cut Axel’s embrace short—as maddeningly short as those few seconds her hands had run all over him removing feathers only hours ago?

Axel crossed his arms.

Will shifted his gaze off Eliza and squarely onto Axel’s overly bright eyes. “What did the doctor say?” He pointed at his friend’s
leg, desperate for something to talk about that didn’t involve his partner’s fiancée.

Axel rubbed the back of his neck. “If I felt dizzy riding, I was supposed to stop, but that didn’t happen.”

“Good.” Though if Axel had fallen off his horse on the way over, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to kiss—
No, stop.
How could he wish his friend had injured himself?

Capture every thought.

He’d have to add wishing his friend ill onto his list of things forbidden to dwell on.

“Luckily I didn’t break my leg, but the stitches are out, so no more worries about infection.”

Will sneaked a glance at Eliza counting the cash and looked away again. “When did you get into town?”

“A few hours ago. I was surprised to find you gone.”

Not that Axel had been worried, considering the kiss he’d interrupted. “I assume you’ve observed Eliza’s superior business skills.”

“Yes, but it’s not like you to leave work unless you’re sick or attending someone.”

“I
was
feeling ill, but the fresh air helped.” Of course, he’d lost whatever good the outdoors had done him by stumbling in on a scene more stomach churning than his earlier discomfort. “Let’s get to closing the shop, then, shall we?” The less time he spent with them, the better. He’d thought Axel’s return would be ideal—but he hadn’t counted on the indescribable longing to beat the tar out of him.

“Actually, Eliza was just heading to Mrs. Lightfoot’s to get ready for dinner. Right, sweetheart?” Axel stayed her counting hand, and she blinked like a confused kitten, though she laid down the money.

“Right.” She tugged at her apron strings and, without looking at Will, brushed past him.

A good thing she didn’t look too closely. He closed his eyes lest Axel see the ache stuck in his very soul.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, William,” Eliza called from the front of the store.

“Yes, tomorrow,” he whispered to no one but himself.

The second she left the store, Axel put on the widest grin he’d ever seen. “I’ve got some good moonshine hidden upstairs. I’ll break it out after I return from dinner. Might as well ring out my last day of freedom with a drink or two, eh?”

Will only shook his head. Axel knew he didn’t drink, but he always wanted someone to blabber to while he guzzled. “Last day?”

“Getting married tomorrow.”

All Will could muster was a nod. Kissing after a few hours, wed within a day. He’d been kidding himself that he’d had any hope of changing their plans.

But was Axel really ready to wed Eliza if he compared it to a loss of freedom? “Are you certain you want to rush into marriage?”

Axel’s face puckered. “I know I didn’t tell you about her—I guess I wasn’t sure it would really happen—but you’re the one who talked me into a mail-order bride. Surely you aren’t advocating I jilt the woman.”

“Waiting isn’t jilting.”

“Why wait?”

To
give her time to realize she’d rather have me.
William pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. “I suppose that’s not how mail-ordering women goes. I’m just surprised you’re so . . . eager.”

Way too eager, by the looks of it.

“Despite being good with the ladies, I always get passed over.” Axel scowled. “Too many men to choose from out here.”

Too many men who—unlike Axel—weren’t known for trying to kiss every girl in town. William fisted his hands. Axel had never touched Nancy but had often invited girls he hardly knew to rendezvous at the creek for necking—and returned puffed up like a dust-bathing bird, boasting about how easy it’d been to steal a kiss.

“I know I’m not the best husband material. I mean, Sarah is the
only unmarried girl our age left in town, and she’ll not give me the time of day.” He spun a quarter on the countertop. “I knew Pa would want to strangle me for ordering a bride, but I got to thinking you were right. I need a woman, but everyone around here knows I’m not a saint.”

Did he have to listen to the man admit he wasn’t worthy of Eliza? He could help Axel list his faults, give him plenty of reasons he shouldn’t drag Eliza down by—

“But I have to change. As much as Ma gives me somewhat of a reason not to get into trouble, I need more sanity. Eliza could be that sanity.”

Could be?
Will sucked air through his teeth.

She didn’t make a man sane—no, she drove him crazy. One minute he wanted to stare her down until she gave up her newest fool-brained business idea, and the next he wanted to sell everything he owned to buy her whatever she set her heart on. And the way her face tilted when she was about to tell him her thoughts, no gut punches reserved? The numerous times he’d restrained himself from clasping her defiant chin and kissing her until she could no longer stand?

She was madness.

“I can’t let her get away.”

Will licked his lips. His friend was actually considering marriage a good thing? “But are you worthy of her?”

“No, but what better reason to try to be?” His mustache wiggled with his smile. “And you’ve been suggesting I get shackled for more than a year now.”

Will closed his eyes, his skin prickling in defeat. He’d often prayed something or someone would help Axel grow into the man he needed to be. He’d just not realized how much he’d want to arm wrestle Axel for the answer to prayer God had finally given him. “Don’t botch this.”

Chapter 12

“For the hundredth time, stop messing with your hair.” Irena hobbled toward Eliza and pushed the pin behind her ear back in place. The lock of hair slipped right back out, as if protesting being put up for the upcoming wedding.

Eliza glanced at the clock in the foyer, where she’d been pacing for the last half hour. If she didn’t start walking to the church in five minutes, she’d miss her wedding. Why was Irena being so stubborn? If she wanted anyone to stand beside her, it was Irena. “You won’t change your mind?”

Irena shook her head, and Eliza imagined a frown behind the woman’s scarf.

“After my first husband died, I remarried and chose poorly because I’d decided emotions were expendable—they’re not. I won’t witness you making the same mistake.”

She hadn’t pried into Irena’s love life, but Eliza’s mother had made poor decisions by following passionate whims. “You forget. I want to marry Axel.” At least she had before feelings came into play. To avoid imitating her mother, she needed to rein in her fickle emotions.

But all night she’d dreamed about yesterday’s kiss—but instead of Axel’s arms encircling her, she’d been in Will’s.

“By the way you’ve talked about William, I know that whatever’s going on up in there”—she tapped Eliza’s forehead—“should be giving you more pause.”

Could Irena read her thoughts? But her dreams were just that—dreams.

“I had weeks of pause.” She grabbed the hodgepodge of flowers she’d picked that morning and stared at the limp bundle. Afraid Axel might hand her a bouquet Will had picked for the store, she’d gathered her own in a meadow outside of town. The flowering weeds would have to do, though one in particular stank. “I’m not a young girl anymore, and I’ve never been a beautiful one. My dream is in front of me, and I mean to grab it.”

“I suppose you’re talking about the store and not the man.”

Eliza jammed her hand on her hip. “Your dream was to retire from the circus, and you’ve remained here despite your husband choosing otherwise.”

Irena drew up, her scarf fluttering with a huff. “Men can disappoint.”

“Exactly. You chose your dream over a man: setting up a boardinghouse so people no longer stared at you for money.”

“Yes, I let them gawk for free now.”

Eliza couldn’t keep a sad giggle from escaping.

Irena chuckled too and shrugged. “I still don’t want to sign your marriage certificate. When it turns out badly—”

“
If
it turns out badly. But I can make the best of any situation.” Her mother’s abandonment to pursue theater, her father’s death, her brother’s incapacity to see he needed her . . . She’d chosen none of those. At least she had a say in this. Perhaps Axel wasn’t the best worker, but she’d have her store. Without Axel, she’d own no store.

“All right,
if
it turns out badly, I’ll be happier that I didn’t help.”

“And if Axel’s the best thing that ever happened to me?”

“Then I’ll rejoice that God gave you favor.”

“I don’t see why He wouldn’t.” Though not being on speaking terms with God could be a problem. “And a decent marriage isn’t based on butterflies a man gives a woman upon first meeting. It’s because they’re in agreement on what to do in life.”

Her parents’ infatuation hadn’t lasted. Just because Will’s glance made her stomach churn more than Axel’s probing gaze didn’t mean she’d avoid her mother’s fate once those butterflies flew away.

She’d not relinquish her dream of a store because of flutters and hesitation. Marrying Axel meant she’d get her dream, and she wouldn’t have any reason to leave him a decade and two children later to chase it. “I have to go now.”

“I do want to give you something before you leave.” From the carved box she’d brought downstairs, Irena pulled out a strand of pearls. “I wore them when I married my first husband. They’re yours—for the wedding and for good.”

Eliza put a hand to her mouth. “I can’t take those.”

Irena opened the clasp. “I’ll never have a daughter to pass them to, and I’ve never had a friend treat me so normally, who sometimes makes me forget what I am.” Irena slipped behind her, most likely to hide her tears, since her voice sounded clogged. “Please.”

“All right,” she whispered. In the hallway mirror, she watched Irena’s beads slip a little beneath the modest V-neckline of her cream wedding dress. With her grandmother’s hair comb tucked into her pile of curls, she almost felt beautiful—if not for the pink scar marring her cheek. The swollenness was no longer noticeable, but her scar still felt puffy.

Irena squeezed both her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. “Let me put some stage makeup on that. Just for today. You should feel as beautiful as you can.”

She nodded her head, continuing to rub her fingers against her cheek. Why had she been so impatient? If she hadn’t come early, not only would she have avoided being robbed of both her money
and what little good looks she possessed, but she’d not have spent extra time with Will.

Picking at the big ruffled neckline almost covering her entire chest and smoothing the silk ribbon bow trailing down her front, Eliza tried not to think about running upstairs and hiding.

“Here we are.” Irena put a few pots on the mirror table and held up a brush. “I brought a little rouge too.”

“Oh, no.” She didn’t want to look like a bawdy-house woman.

“I won’t put on more than a subtle dab—but you, my friend, are paler than P. T. Barnum’s albinos. If I put on more than you like, you can take it off.”

True to her word, Irena applied only a soft touch of pink to her cheeks, but used a lot of the skin-colored powder to cover the scar. The coloring didn’t look natural, but neither did the scar. “Thank you. It helps a little.”

“Now, go on. You’re late.”

After grabbing a quick hug, knowing she’d never spend a quiet evening alone with Irena again, Eliza collected her matching parasol and headed to the church three blocks away. Thankfully, the light wind meant she wouldn’t have to redo her hair before walking down the aisle. She pushed herself to put one foot in front of the other.

Outside the large sandstone church on the edge of town, Will paced the bottom step, his feet twenty times more lively than hers. He glanced up for a second and briefly met her gaze before returning to his pacing.

She closed her parasol and let herself in through the churchyard gate, unsure if she should wait for him to finish pacing or push past him into the sanctuary.