His Precious Inheritance (Inspirational Historical Romance) (21 page)

She gritted her teeth and walked back to her desk. A few strokes of her pen scratched out the notes she’d written. She shoved her pen and pad in the drawer, fed a clean piece of paper into the typewriter and began typing. When she finished, she set the paper aside and pulled the article forward that she’d been working on when he interrupted her that morning.

* * *

The click of her typing filled the room. Charles stole a glance at Clarice sitting prim and proper at her desk with her fingers flying over the typewriter keys, and his stomach knotted. Had he misjudged her? Was she actually typing out the notice?

He took a breath, ran his fingers through his hair and shoved away from his desk. The click of her typing followed him into the composing room. He affixed the article he had edited to the second page, glanced toward the clock then thumbed through the fillers in the basket. The one Clarice’s mother had written about cleaning mica was the right size. He stuck it in place, rolled the paper, snapped a rubber band around both ends to secure it and wedged it under his arm.

It was only a moment’s work to snuff the chandeliers. He grabbed the other pages he’d rolled earlier and walked back into the editorial room. She was still typing as if the work was all that mattered to her. A heaviness settled over him. He’d thought that having to write that notice would awaken a desire in her for them all to become a family. How could he have been so wrong? “It’s time to take these pages to Clicker, Miss Gordon. Bring the notice you’ve written and come with me.”

“Very well.”

He watched her snatch a paper off her desk, then reach up and snuff her chandelier. He snuffed the others. Darkness crept in. How would he explain Clarice’s abandonment to Jonathan? He kept asking for her.

Her skirt hems whispered an accompaniment to his footsteps as they walked down the stairs. He shoved open the door to the printing room, stepped back to let her precede him. “Here are the pages, Clicker.”

“’Bout time.” The printer took the pages in his ink-stained hands, carried them to a long table and began to unroll them.

“Give him the notice, Miss Gordon.”

She nodded, stepped forward.

“On second thought, I’ll give it to him.” He held out his hand.

She looked down at it, lifted her chin and placed the paper in her hand on his upraised palm.

He glanced down.
Who taught the birds their pretty songs...whose notes so sweetly vary?

He looked up, met her defiant gaze.

“Well, are you gonna give me that notice or not?”

He shook his head and stuck the paper in his pocket. “I believe I’ll keep this for another time, Clicker. Print page two as is.”

Her eyes glistened with tears. He took hold of her arm and ushered her out of the building, paused beneath a street lamp and stepped back from her, held himself from taking her in his arms. He had to be sure. “Would you like to tell me why you typed that poem?”

She tilted her head up and met his gaze full on. His heart jolted at her beauty. His pulse thudded. “Because you wouldn’t listen to me.” She drew a breath, rushed into speech. “I have a proposition for you.”

His gaze captured hers. “Which is?”

“I will take the position as Jonathan’s nanny.”

It wasn’t good enough...not by half. Not now.
He looked off into the distance, shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I believe it is.” She shivered, rubbed her arms.

“You’re cold.” He took off his suit jacket, wrapped it around her and held it close beneath her chin. She looked down, drew a shaky breath. His pulse quickened at her tremble.

“Jonathan already knows and trusts me, and I love him.” Her voice was a soft whisper. She looked up. The lamplight glowed on her beautiful face, gleamed on the tears in her eyes. “The only thing I ask is that you continue to let me answer the CLSC letters at home. And, of course, I will be available should you ever need my help at the newspaper.”

He cleared his throat. “You would make yourself available to help me?”

“Of course. I lo—” She clamped her lips together. Pink bloomed across her cheekbones. She looked down, gripped the edges of his coat. “Of course I would.”

His heart lurched. He was sure now. How could he ever have doubted her? “Your offer is a very tempting one. There’s only one problem.” He stepped closer.

“Wh-what?”

“The position is no longer open.” He cleared the gruffness from his voice, tugged on the jacket lapels and pulled her close. “I think Jonathan needs something more permanent than a nanny.” He released the lapels, slipped his hands up and cupped her face.

“Y-you do?” The words were barely a whisper.

He nodded, tipped her face up and bent his head. His lips hovered over hers, touched their warm softness. “I think the only solution is for you to marry me.” He brushed his lips over hers again, tasted of their sweetness, the saltiness of her tears. His heart pounded. “I love you, Clarice.”

She drew a ragged breath, looked into his eyes. “I love you, Charles.”

Time stopped. He slid his arms inside his coat and wrapped them around her, drew her against him. “Will you be my wife?”

She placed her hand over his thudding heart and gave him a smile that sent joy exploding through him. “Yes. With all of my heart.” Her arms slipped up around his neck and the coat fell unheeded into a pile at their feet as he claimed her lips in a kiss that promised forever.

Epilogue

C
larice brushed her hair up to the top of her head, gathered it into her hand, then loosened it until it fell in a pouf of soft waves against her temples and forehead. The length of hair still in her hand she twisted into a soft pile at her crown and pinned it in place.

“Here’s the ribbon.”

“Thank you, Mama.” She took the length of wide ivory silk into her hands and wound it around the base of the puffed black mass of hair at her crown, tied it into a bow and let the ends fall down the back of her head. They just touched the top of her gown’s high collar.

“And one more thing...” Her mother opened the drawer of the dressing table, pulled out a cluster of white silk flowers and tucked the stems beneath the ribbon at the front of her twisted puff of hair. “There. They look beautiful and the ribbon will hold them in place.”

Clarice sat back and gazed at herself in the mirror, marveling at how different she looked. She hardly recognized herself since Charles had declared his love for her. The happiness inside glowed in her gray eyes, making them look wider and brighter, and turned the corners of her mouth up into the hint of a smile. All the shadows of bitterness and fear caused by the cruelty of her father were gone.

She took a breath, rose, spread out the ivory gown’s short train and smoothed her hands down the front of the long ruffled skirt. “I guess I’m ready.” She gave her mother a shaky smile. “Thank you for making my gown, Mama. It’s lovely.”

“
You’re
lovely, Clarice. Charles will not be able to take his eyes off you during the ceremony. Or after.”

Heat climbed into her cheeks.

Her mother cupped her face in her hands and gave her a loving smile. “Especially if you blush like that.”

“Mama!” The heat in her cheeks increased. She raised her hands to cover her mother’s, admiring their softness, thinking of how dry and calloused they had been for as long as she could remember. Tears stung her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Mama. And so
thankful
that you can walk beside me.”

Her mother sighed and nodded. “The Lord has richly blessed us, Clarice. He has taken all of our hurt and fear away and replaced it with the amazing love of two wonderful men—and one adorable little boy.”

“I know, Mama. It’s wondrous how the Lord took something as selfish and heartless as Mrs. Thornberg’s—or whatever her name is now—
discarding
of her sons and turned it around for their good. Whoever would have thought God would use her cruelty to bring Jonathan and Charles together. To give them both the family they otherwise would never have known. He turned her selfishness around for their good.”

“And for ours.”

“Oh, yes, most definitely for ours.” She looked at her mother and laughed. “I guess there are times when being poor and having to make a living for yourself is a good thing.”

“And when being crippled and unable to walk is a blessing.”

She nodded, sobered by the memory. “I was so
angry
with God because all of the hard work Father demanded of you crippled you. But that is what set you free from a life of drudgery and pain, Mama.” She passed the button hook to her mother and smiled. “And it brought you the man you are about to marry.”

“Indeed it did.” Her mother buttoned her shoes, rose and donned the jacket that went over the blue gown she had made for her wedding day. “A widowed doctor...” She pinned her small flower-trimmed hat in place, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness. “God truly does work in mysterious ways.”

“He truly does.” She drew a breath, smoothed the front of her gown one more time. “Are you ready, Mama?”

“Never more so, Clarice. Are you?”

“I truly am, Mama. I can’t wait to be Charles’s bride—” the joy in her heart broke out in a huge smile “—
and
Jonathan’s sis’er.”

They walked downstairs, the hems of their gowns whispering softly against the polished oak treads then crossed the entrance hall. Side by side they stepped through the door into the sitting room. Mrs. Duncan was there wearing a happy smile. And Jonathan, wide-eyed and adorable beside her. But it was the men standing by the fireplace waiting for them who captured and held their gazes.

They walked forward, each drawn by the love of the man waiting for her. Charles, breathtakingly handsome in his new dark suit, stepped forward and held out his hand. She looked into his eyes, warm with love, and placed her hand in his safe, loving grasp.

“Me too!”

The whisper brought a shared smile—the oneness that would be theirs from this moment on. Charles looked down at Jonathan, and that slow lopsided smile that made her stomach quiver tilted his mouth. “Not this time, Skipper. This time, she’s all mine.” He met her gaze, placed his mouth by her ear and whispered, “And forever more.” The words settled in her heart, a promise of the love and happiness to come, as they stepped forward to stand beside her mother and Dr. Reese in front of the minister waiting to perform the double ceremony.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
A HOME FOR HIS FAMILY
by Jan Drexler.

Dear Reader,

Clarice Gordon made her appearance in
An Unlikely
Love
,
my first book with a Chautauqua Lake setting
.
She was such an intriguing character in that book that I knew I had to write her
story. I also knew, because of her nature, she had to have a self-confident,
strong yet gentle hero to win her heart. Charles Thornberg was the perfect man
for her. I enjoyed writing their story and, once again, giving two wounded
people a happy-ever-after ending by God gently leading them into the knowledge
of His love.

I’m going to miss the steamer rides on beautiful Chautauqua
Lake. But I
think
the mode of transportation in my next book will be a
train. At least until my heroine reaches her destination. I’m looking forward to
that. I’ve always wished I could ride one of the old trains and experience the
sway of the car, the clickety-clack of the wheels against the track and the
faint smell of smoke as the steam engine chugged its way west. How about you,
dear reader? Would you like to come along?

Thank you, dear reader, for choosing to read
His Precious
Inheritance
. I hope you enjoyed Clarice and Charles’s story. I truly
appreciate hearing from my readers. If you care to share your thoughts about
this story, I may be reached at
[email protected]
or
www.dorothyjclark.com
.

Until the “All aboard” call sounds,

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Historical title.

You find illumination in days gone by.
Love Inspired Historical
stories lift the spirit as heroines tackle the challenges of life in another era with hope, faith and a focus on family.

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