A Prescription for Love (30 page)

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Authors: Callie Hutton

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: A Prescription for Love
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“What’s your involvement, son?” Jesse spoke in an odd, yet gentle, tone.

Michael stood and walked to the window, resting his forearm on the window frame, his back to them. “I can’t allow Heidi to marry Clarence.”

“Why not?” Jesse prodded.

He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Because I love her. The morning after Clarence pulled this stunt, I had planned to ask her to marry me.”

“Ah.” Jesse nodded. After a moment, he added, “So what do you plan to do?”

Michael ran stiff fingers through his hair. “Go after her.”

“Sounds as if you have a good plan. Then why are you standing here in our library?”

Michael flung himself into the chair in front of the desk. “It’s not so simple. Suppose Clarence carries out his threat and sends this to the newspapers, and even has Gloria provide an interview?”

“Do you think I really care if the whole world knows about my background? Don’t you think your aunt and I feel a certain amount of pride in the fact that I rose above my circumstances?”

“I know we’ve always thought so, but what about Priscilla, and Ben, Paul, and Henry?”

“We’ll all survive, and I think you know that. If you’re looking for our blessing, then I have one thing to say.
Go get your woman
.”

Michael’s heart soared and relief flooded him. Grinning broadly, he hugged Tori and shook Jesse’s hand. He strode to the door and yanked it open. Priscilla tumbled into the room.

She smiled up at him from her position on the floor. “I told you something wonderful would happen.”

“Pris, you have no idea.” Michael stepped around her and headed for the front door.

Chapter 28

Heidi’s eyes popped open as a jolt of panic raced from her stomach to her heart.
Oh God, today is the day.
The beaded white wedding dress hanging over the door of her wardrobe mocked her. As a bride, this should be the happiest day of her life. Instead, misery flooded her.

A wave of nausea drove her to the chamber pot, where she retched while tears ran down her face. After rinsing out her mouth, she sat back on her heels, her shoulders slumped. Doubts assailed her. Should she have told Michael about Clarence’s threat? And the baby?

Her child, the one she made with Michael, would never know its father. Since Clarence intended to have her as wife in name only, the baby would be a bastard in his eyes, and he would most likely treat the child as one.

Wearily, she wiped her eyes and climbed to her feet. She wandered to the window, amazed at the sun shining so brightly on her day of gloom. Two cardinals perched on a branch of her favorite elm tree, their heads raised to the warmth of the sun. More spring buds had broken through the red earth, waving in the slight breeze.

She turned at the sight knock. “Come in.”

Mother entered, her eyes bright, and much more cheerful than Heidi would have expected. “Good morning, dear.” She moved further into the room, her flowered dressing gown floating behind her. “I’ve brought you a cup of tea. The warmth may help settle your stomach.”

She placed the cup and saucer on the table next to Heidi’s bed. “How’s your tummy this morning?”

Heidi shook her head and shrugged into her dressing gown, then tied the belt into a bow. “I enjoy being sick each morning. The nausea reminds me of the one pleasant thing in my life.” A lone tear trickled down her cheek.

“Now, dear. You mustn’t trouble yourself.” She patted her hand. “Have some of your tea and in a little while I’ll run your bath.” Mother crossed to the doorway, the sound of her slippers smacking against her feet echoing in the room. She glanced over her shoulder and winked, then closed the door behind her with a soft click.

Well, that encounter was strange.
Heidi had assumed Mother would be as glum as she. Instead, absolute joy radiated from her.

The clock on her dresser ticked in rhythm with her heartbeat. Seven o’clock. In four hours she would stand before Reverend Blake and say the words binding her to a man she loathed. Her hand moved to her still flat belly.

Hang on, Heidi, I’m coming
.

At seven o’clock Michael strode to the ticket window and plopped his money on the worn wooden counter. “Oklahoma City, seven-fifteen train.”

“Sorry, son, the seven-fifteen’s been cancelled.”

Michael’s head snapped back. “What!”

“Next train to Oklahoma City is eight-fifteen.” The ticket master shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “You want that one?”

“When does the train arrive in Oklahoma City?”

The man consulted a paper alongside him. “Ten-thirty. Or thereabouts.”

Michael calculated. He’d planned to arrive at Heidi’s house before she left for church. If he didn’t arrive on time, he’d have to go straight to the ceremony. He had no choice.

“Fine. The eight-fifteen, then.”

The man whisked his money away and slid a ticket across to him. “Might as well get yourself some breakfast.” He nodded in the direction of The Harvey House where he and Heidi had eaten.

When Michael entered the restaurant, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. As he made his way past the diners enjoying their meal, he glanced at the table in the corner where he’d started to fall in love with Heidi many weeks ago.

After settling at the counter next to an older man dressed in a business suit, he ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits and gravy. Only a few minutes later, the young waitress placed steaming, golden biscuits, smothered in gravy in front of him. He cut into one biscuit with his fork and checked his watch. Seven-thirty.

Mary Lester glanced up at her husband as he entered the dining room.

“What a pleasant surprise, my dear. I’ve not known you to rise so early.” He extracted his watch from his vest pocket and raised his eyebrows. “Seven-thirty?”

“You may not remember, Harold, but today is your daughter’s wedding day.”

“So it is.” He kissed her on the head before pulling out his chair. “Not that I forgot.” He reached for the silver coffee pot in the center of the table, then poured the dark liquid into a cup. “I wish she seemed happier about this whole thing.”

Mary bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling him the entire story. She’d promised Heidi, and would not break her word. But keeping such a thing from her husband of almost thirty years troubled her. She inhaled deeply to calm her racing heart. Michael would be here soon and take care of the whole thing.

“Do you think we should have let Heidi select her own husband?” Harold stirred cream into his coffee, then blew on its steaming fragrance before taking a sip.

Mary leaned on one elbow and regarded him. “A little late to worry about that. But I think we’ve made mistakes. Keeping her from other people all those years was probably not the best thing to do.”

“We only wanted what was best for her.”

“Did we? I often wonder if we weren’t thinking more of ourselves, not her.” Her gaze slid toward the window. “Losing Penelope hurt so very much.”

Harold covered her hand with his. “I believe you’re right. We were so frightened of losing Heidi we may have overreacted. Or is this one of those things you mentioned you went along with because I made the decision for both of us?”

“No. I can’t blame you for that one. I was terrified every time her little lungs wheezed.”

He swallowed a bite of toast and wiped his mouth. “She’ll be all right. Clarence is a good man. I’m confident he’ll treat her well.”

Men are so thick-headed
. Mary closed her eyes, then rose. If she didn’t leave immediately, she would blurt out everything. “I’m going to fix Heidi a bath.”

Heidi viewed herself in front of the mirror in her bedroom, then ran the towel over her wet body. She dropped the cloth, and turned sideways, then clasped her hands on her belly.
Can you hear me, little one? Mama will take good care of you, I promise.

“Heidi,” her mother called from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

Heidi dragged on her dressing gown. “Yes.”

This time her mother appeared more nervous than earlier in the morning. She chewed on her lower lip and twisted the pearl ring on her finger. “I wonder if I should wear my blue brocade dress or maybe something else.”

“You’ll look lovely, Mother. The blue brocade is beautiful and you’ll be the perfect mother of the bride.” Heidi attempted a smile.

“Thank you.” Mother cupped her cheek and gave her a light kiss. “But I think you should probably begin to dress. I’ll help you.”

Heidi glanced at the clock on her dresser. Nine forty-five.

Nine forty-five and the blasted train sat on the tracks in the middle of nowhere. They hadn’t moved in fifteen minutes. About halfway from Guthrie to Oklahoma City the blasted thing slid to a stop. Michael rotated his neck and frustration mounted at the only information the conductor had provided to the passengers. A problem on the line. And no, he had no idea when the train would start up again.

Michael shifted in his seat and tapped his fingers on his thigh. He should have taken the train last night. Except the last train had departed before he’d left Jesse and Tori’s house. Or maybe he should have ridden his horse. Or left much earlier and driven his buggy.

“Something needs to be done about these trains,” the man seated to his left grumbled and addressed his comment to Michael. “I ride trains all the time and about once a week one breaks down.” He shook his head.

“What happens when they break down?”

“One time we sat for over an hour before they managed to fix the damn thing.”

Michael’s heart sped up. “An hour! I need to be in Oklahoma City before eleven o’clock.”

“Then you’d better start walking, young man,” he chuckled.

By ten-fifteen, Michael exited the train and jogged away. Overhead, the sun beat down. He shrugged out of his jacket, then hung it over his arm. He shadowed his eyes with his hand and glanced off in the distance, then smiled. About three quarters of a mile to the east, a farmhouse came into view. Maybe he could borrow a horse from the farmer. He squinted at his watch as he trotted in that direction. Ten-twenty.

“Dear, I don’t feel so good. I think I’d better lie down.” Mary glanced at the clock in her bedroom. Ten-twenty.
Where is Michael?

Harold fastened the buttons on his boots. “Lie down? Mary, it’s almost time to leave for the church.”

“I know, but I feel so faint.” She raised the back of her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I’ll rest here for a little while.”

“All right. But not too long. You still have to dress.” He left the room.

Mary hopped off the bed and paced. What had happened? Michael assured her he would catch the seven-fifteen train and be here in their house long before they left for the church. He should have arrived by now.

A soft knock interrupted her. “Come in.”

Heidi peeked around the corner. “Papa said you’re not feeling well.”

Mary stumbled back to the bed and sat. “Yes. I feel so . . . faint. I must be suffering from over excitement.”

Heidi approached her, the skirt of her wedding dress fisted in her hands. “You do look somewhat flushed.”

“Yes, I don’t know what afflicts me, actually. I think if I rest for a bit I’ll be fine.”

“All right.” Heidi regarded her as she headed to the door. “I’ll leave you to dress.”

“Yes, you do that, dear. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a little while. In fact, I’m sure
everything
will be fine in a little while.”

Brows furrowed, Heidi left her mother lying on the bed, and crossed the hallway to her room.

Mother certainly behaved strangely today. She hadn’t once mentioned the letter from Clarence. In fact, seemed to have completely forgotten about it. Where yesterday, she displayed outrage, today she seemed happy, and almost . . . excited.

Heidi sighed and sat on the small stool in front of her dressing mirror. She pivoted, absorbing all the sights and smells of her room. The bed she’d slept in since childhood, the blue and purple flowered wallpaper she and Mother had picked out together. Tears welled in her eyes. If only she were leaving her treasured room for something better.

Clarence had purchased a house, one she had no intention of living in. He resented the fact that she hadn’t stepped over the threshold and had no interest in decorating. She snorted. Decorating. With Papa’s money, no doubt. Well, he could decorate the blasted place himself.

Not caring if she wrinkled the beautiful dress, Heidi meandered to the bed, plopped down, and swung her legs over. She reclined against the pillows, tilting her head to stare at the ceiling. As always, Michael drifted into her mind. What was he doing today? On a Saturday, he would be in the shop for the morning. Did he even know today she would marry Clarence? Would he care?

She rolled over and glanced at the clock. Ten thirty-five. Soon Papa would come to escort her to the buggy. She fumbled for her handkerchief and allowed herself the luxury of one more cry, not caring if she showed up at the church a blotchy-faced bride.

Ten thirty-five. Michael shook his head as he tucked his watch into his pocket. He’d finally arrived at the front door of the farmhouse. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and slid into his jacket. After giving himself a couple of minutes to calm his breathing, lest he scare these people, he knocked on the door.

Frantic no one answered after knocking twice, he moved to check the barn when the door opened. A short, elderly woman peered out at him. “Yeah?” Stains covered her cotton gown and she wore broken men’s shoes on her feet.

“Good morning, ma’am. I wonder if your husband is home?”

She stepped onto the porch, spit tobacco juice from the side of her mouth, then swiped the brown liquid dripping down her chin. “Been buried in the back yard now for going on ten years.”

Dead, I hope.

“I realize this is a strange request, but do you have a horse I could borrow?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Now, why would I be keeping a horse just so’s you can come along and borrow it?”

Michael’s shoulders slumped. “You don’t have a horse?”

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