Love Inspired Historical January 2015 Box Set: Wolf Creek Father\Cowboy Seeks a Bride\Falling for the Enemy\Accidental Fiancee (43 page)

That didn't stop his chest from aching every time he saw her, especially when she was with Nolan, the man who walked her home every day, the man who sat next to her in church and who probably had her over to his fine house for dinner all the time. All the things Rand wanted to do. He couldn't even bring her flowers because none grew on the ranch in this cold weather. Yet Nolan's gardener managed to keep hothouse flowers on the pulpit most Sundays, so the banker probably gave some to Marybeth, too.

Reverend Thomas had told him about her uncomfortable encounter with Hardison back in September. Apparently the gunslinger had gotten the message she didn't want his company, but that still didn't mean she was entirely safe from him. On the other hand, now that Nolan was courting her—Rand couldn't think of it any other way—he doubted Hardison would make a move on her. Not when the gunslinger was so busy trying to convince the good people of Esperanza he was an upstanding businessman. He had some nefarious plans up his sleeve like the extra ace his cousin Cole used to cheat with, but Rand hadn't seen him do a single thing to indicate what those plans might be.

He hung his hat on a peg in the café and eyed the pies in the new glass pie safe sitting on the sideboard. Miss Pam sure was making her restaurant nice with such fancy touches. Settling in the back corner, he hoped no one would spot him and put to words the questions their faces asked every time he was in town. Everybody knew Marybeth had come out here to marry him. Now that she'd won all of their hearts, they probably wondered what terrible thing he'd done to lose her to Nolan.

“What'll it be, Rand?” Miss Pam greeted him with a sweet smile that held no such censure. “I just baked apple and peach pies this morning, and I still have a slice of elderberry left over from yesterday.”

“Let me finish off that elderberry. I'll take home a slice of peach pie for Susanna.”

“It's real nice of you to take care of her while Nate goes shopping for furniture.” Miss Pam blinked, as if her own words surprised her. “Oh, dear. Now don't you go telling her what I said. Nate made me promise to keep it a secret.”

As she hurried off to get his pie, Rand leaned back with a grin. So it wasn't a lack of trust in him that sent Nate to Denver in his place. Dad probably hadn't even sent a letter, at least not one concerning who was to deal with the cattle buyers. Nate would do a fine job, as always. Plus he and Susanna did need more furniture for when they moved back into their own house after Mother and Dad returned from Boston.

When Miss Pam brought the pie, he noticed extra whipped cream topped it, and he chuckled. “With that bribe, you can be sure I'll keep your secret.” Not that he would ruin Nate's surprise. In fact, he'd do everything he could to keep his sweet sister-in-law occupied until Nate came home.

That evening over supper, he quizzed her about her Southern upbringing, her favorite recipes and several other subjects on which he already knew her thoughts. While he searched his mind to come up with something else, Susanna laughed in her musical way.

“Rand, you can quit beating around the chokecherry bush. If you want my advice on how to win Marybeth's heart, just ask me.”

“Hold on.” Tolley scooted his chair back and picked up his dishes. “If you're going to talk about mushy stuff, that's my cue to go do evening chores.” He shuddered comically and made his way toward the kitchen.

Susanna laughed again. “One day that boy's going to discover girls, then Katie bar the door.” She leveled a gaze on Rand that was decidedly maternal, although he was a year older than she. “Now let's talk about you, brother dear. We've all been busy with harvest and getting the cows off to sell, but don't think I've failed to notice you're not courting anymore.”

Rand looked down at his empty plate, over Susanna's head and then at the kitchen door Tolley had just exited. “After three years of being in this family, you should know it's not the cows we sell, but the steers.”

“Don't change the subject.” Susanna pasted on what seemed like an attempt to look stern, but her sweet face just looked prettier. Nate was one blessed man to have her. “What happened between you and Marybeth?”

The warm concern in her voice soothed something deep inside him. Maybe he didn't need Seamus, after all.

He told her the whole story, including his early suspicions about Marybeth and how, when they'd argued, she hadn't denied his accusation of never planning to marry him.

“Trouble is, now that she's told me she doesn't want to see me anymore, I realize how much better I could have handled the situation. And I don't have any way to fix what I broke.”

“So you do want to fix it?”

He choked out a mirthless laugh. “Sure do. This is killing me.”

“Well, sometimes love feels that way.”

“Love?” He shook his head. Then nodded. “I guess I do love her. We have some things to work out, but after sorting through it all these past few weeks, I don't see why we can't.”

“Neither do I. That girl's only fooling herself if she claims not to love you. You just have to get together and talk about it.” Susanna's blue eyes twinkled like they did when she had a surprise for Lizzy. “Now pay attention. Two weeks from this Saturday, we're holding the meeting about the church addition. The ladies are going to make it a box social to raise money. With crops in and cows—
cattle
—sold, we're hoping everyone will feel generous and make big contributions.”

Rand scratched his chin. “Sis, did you just change the subject, or does this somehow pertain to Marybeth and me?”

“Silly boy, of course it pertains to the two of you. You can buy Marybeth's box, and she'll be required to sit with you. It's the perfect opportunity for you to apologize and get all of this nonsense straightened out.”

“Right. Apologize.” Rand took a deep gulp from his coffee cup. Did he care enough about Marybeth to eat her awful cooking? The question had no more formed in his mind than his heart leaped up and slapped him broadside on the head. Of course he could, along with the crow he'd need to eat as he apologized.

After the sting of realizing she'd never planned to marry him had worn off, he'd admitted to himself she had plenty of reasons to remain single. If he could just tell her how much he admired her for her loyalty to her brother, how much he'd like to build a loving family like his in which that sort of familial love made everyone feel secure and appreciated, maybe he could change her mind.

But only if he won her basket. Bidding against the banker, who could afford to employ four servants, a gardener and a groom for his horses might cost Rand his entire share of the income from this year's cattle sale. Could he do that and still look Dad in the eye and claim to be reformed and responsible? What if his parents found out about how she'd deceived them and decided she wasn't worthy to be a member of the family?

It was a chance he'd just have to take.

Chapter Eleven

H
e lost! Just when he thought his eight-dollar bid would win Marybeth's box, Nolan jumped to the new ten-dollar limit set by the committee this year. They'd cited last year's sad event when one love-struck cowboy sold his saddle to buy his girl's box, only to have her marry someone else the following week. Nobody could say the people of Esperanza were insensitive to the limited funds of cowhands...or to their broken hearts.

To hide his disappointment, Rand tipped his hat to the banker. It wouldn't do for a Northam to show poor sportsmanship. Then, waiting to bid on the next box, he hunched down in his thick woolen coat to ward off the cold November wind blowing through the churchyard.

They could have held the proceedings in the sanctuary, but some folks thought that would be as irreverent as the moneychangers whom Jesus threw out of the temple in Jerusalem. Even though the fund-raiser was for the church, out of respect for those views, Reverend Thomas said they'd set up the tables outside on the brown lawn. But these folks were a hardy lot, used to Colorado winters, so there were few complaints.

The four unattached Eberly girls had each prepared dinners sure to hold some mighty fine cooking, so he'd bid on Grace's box. As nice-looking as her sisters, she'd grown tall and awkward and had no beau, so he'd do the neighborly thing and have dinner with her. But the preacher beat him to it, so Rand moved on to the next sister. Beryl's and Laurie's boxes were also snatched up by eager bidders. Rand ended up with twelve-year-old Georgia, named for her father when it became apparent no son would be born to George and Mabel.

So much for Susanna's plan for him to make up with Marybeth. Instead he was stuck with a child who was more interested in talking to another girl than to him. So he ate by himself and stared across the churchyard at Marybeth and Nolan chatting up a storm. Didn't those two talk to each other enough at work?

He wanted to think this was all a part of God's plan. Maybe the Lord didn't intend for him to win Marybeth's heart. After killing a man, maybe he wasn't fit to have a sweet, pretty wife. But if she married Nolan, it would be mighty hard for Rand to stay in the same community and watch her have a happy family life with someone else.

* * *

When Rand had actually bid on her box, Marybeth's heart had skipped with hope, and she'd prayed he would win it. She'd missed him so much and longed for a chance to beg his forgiveness for taking advantage of his family. But after their bitter parting at the Harvest Home, she'd assumed he'd never want to see her again. He certainly hadn't tried to, had certainly minded her orders to stay away. Maybe his attempt to win her box was a sort of peace offering, one she gladly would have accepted.

Nolan's bid of ten dollars brought a gasp from the crowd then applause. Of course a wealthy banker would think nothing of contributing that amount to the church building fund. No doubt he would donate a great deal more over time, as would the Northams.

Yet as they sat there in the cold, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. With Nolan walking her home from work each day, they didn't have much left to talk about other than the weather. The topic turned out to be his favorite as he waxed eloquent about how different the moist cold of New York was from the dry cold of Colorado. She could only smile and nod and wish her employer would cease courting her. Yet if she rejected him, he might dismiss her, and then where would she be? On the other hand, encouraging him was no less a lie than failing to tell Rand the truth about not wanting to marry.

How foolish she'd been to accept Colonel and Mrs. Northam's offer to pay for her train fare in exchange for her marrying their son. In addition to being dishonest, it proved she wasn't trusting the Lord to help her find Jimmy.

But here she was, and she no longer owed the Northams any money. Now, if she could just keep her employer from taking his courtship as far as a proposal, maybe she could find a way to encourage Rand to resume their relationship. He'd taken the first step by bidding on her box. She would pray for an opportunity to return the favor. This very evening, she would write him a bread-and-butter note thanking him for his bid. If he didn't take the bait, she'd understand.

After Nolan escorted her and Mrs. Foster home, however, her landlady suffered a bad chill and took to her bed. Marybeth made chicken soup and bread and fed the boarders before taking a tray upstairs to Mrs. Foster. The dear lady's cough rattled in her chest, just as Mam's had in her final illness. Terrified, Marybeth sent Homer Bean to fetch Doc Henshaw, and indeed the diagnosis was pneumonia.

“Keep out as much of the cold air as you can,” Doc said as he applied the mustard plaster he'd concocted in the kitchen to the older lady's chest. “Keep her sitting up as much as possible, and set a teakettle to boiling in the fireplace. The steam will put moisture in the air, which should help her breathe.” The young doctor gave her an encouraging smile. “Can you do that?”

“Yes, of course.” Marybeth had done all of these things for Mam, yet they hadn't saved her. After Doc left, she tended to each detail and then knelt beside her landlady's bed and prayed she wouldn't die.

In that moment something shifted inside her, and God's immediate path for her became clear. Instead of being so desperate to find Jimmy right away, when he might not wish to be found at all, she would turn her attention to this dear woman who'd opened her heart and home, becoming like a mother to Marybeth. In effect, her family. How could she do any less than stay by her side and see to her needs, whatever they might be? If it meant giving up her job, so be it. As far as Jimmy was concerned, she would go to Wagon Wheel Gap as soon as the snows melted in the spring.

Rising from her prayer, she felt an odd pinch of irritation toward her brother. Why hadn't he contacted her all these years? Why hadn't he sent another letter or even come home to Boston to see how the family had fared in his absence? If he'd done his duty by them, she never would have had to come searching for him.

What a silly thought. She was glad to be here in Esperanza. Glad to be taking care of Mrs. Foster. As to her deceiving the Northam family, well, the Lord would have to straighten that out in His time.

She stuffed rags around the rattling windows and closed the green-velvet drapes for an added layer of protection against the icy night wind. The upstairs hearth didn't have a cooking arm, so she found a small cast-iron grate to set the teakettle on close to the fire. She brought her bedding to Mrs. Foster's room and slept on the chaise longue to be near the invalid and to keep the fire going.

Sometime during the course of a long night, she remembered the note she'd planned to write to Rand. That would have to wait. Maybe if the other boarders pitched in to help, she could write to him tomorrow. As far as attending church was concerned, she trusted the Lord would understand that she couldn't leave Mrs. Foster alone.

In the morning, to her dismay, the Chases announced they would leave after church to stay with one of their sons, despite cramped accommodations that must be shared with seven grandchildren. Marybeth's next disappointment came from Homer Bean. After filling the wood box in the kitchen, he told her he would find other lodgings so she wouldn't have to cook for him. He did promise to keep the wood box filled and to bring anything they needed from the general store. She supposed she should be grateful for whatever assistance he could give, but she couldn't help but feel a bit stranded. Whom would she send in case of an emergency?

With the other boarders gone, Marybeth scrambled to think of ways she could help her landlady. As far as she knew, Mrs. Foster's income would now depend solely on the piano lessons, so Marybeth would teach the students. If she could find someone to sit with Mrs. Foster during the day, she could still work at the bank and use her salary to make the house payments. If the monthly amount exceeded what she made, surely Mr. Means would grant an extension. Perhaps Mrs. Foster, being a Union army officer's widow, received a pension from the government. Marybeth wouldn't ask because discussing money might distress the dear lady. She knew only one thing. Whatever it took, she was determined to lift every burden from this woman who had been so kind to her.

* * *

Even though Marybeth hadn't withdrawn her orders for him not to visit her, Rand decided to speak to her after church. If she agreed to let him visit, he would remind her of her promise to help with the Northam family Christmas party. He'd remind her that Susanna would have her baby in another month, so she wouldn't be able to perform the hostess duties. If he could persuade Marybeth to help, maybe that would open the door to more conversation and even a restoration of their friendship. Maybe even courtship. He would try real hard not to rush that last part.

In a jolly, hopeful mood, he arrived at church early to renew their competition in passing out the hymnals. Reverend Thomas had just completed that chore and gave him the sobering news that Mrs. Foster was gravely ill.

“When I visited a short while ago, she looked mighty poorly.” The preacher frowned and shook his head. “Doc's more than a little concerned, but thank the Lord, Marybeth's doing her best to take care of her.”

Rand's heart sank. “Do they need help?” He cast around in his mind to think of what could be done. Susanna couldn't even make it to church these days, and of course in her condition, she had no business nursing a sick person. Surely other church ladies could help, such as elderly but spry Mrs. Chase, who was right there in the house. “Maybe I should go over there and check.”

“You could, but why not wait until after the service. I'd like for us all to pray for Mrs. Foster.”

As anxious as he was to see how Marybeth was coping, Rand couldn't disagree. He managed to sit through the service, thankful for Laurie Eberly's somewhat competent organ playing. The girl had only played piano before, so her efforts on the double keyboard were greatly appreciated. The preacher delivered a short sermon and then the entire congregation joined in prayer for the dear lady.

Afterward, Rand told his brothers he'd follow them home later. He made his way to Mrs. Foster's just in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Chase leaving the house, valises in hand.

“Can't stay and be a burden on that poor lady.” Mr. Chase's wide-eyed look bespoke more fear than concern.

Rand couldn't fault them. They'd suffered a lot when their house burned down. That sort of loss could shake a man's soul and make him fear more tragedies.

Rand had been to the house so often it seemed like a second home, so he didn't bother to knock. Marybeth must have heard him because she emerged from the kitchen and came down the center hallway. For a moment he thought she was going to rush into his arms. He'd have gladly let her. Instead she drew back.

“Rand.” She brushed loose strands of hair from her face with the back of flour-covered hands. “What can I do for you?” No smile accompanied her words. Did she prefer not to see him? Or was she just worried about Mrs. Foster?

“What can I do for
you
, Marybeth? Name it and it's done.”

Now a hint of a smile touched those smooth, plump lips he'd so often wanted to kiss.

“Please make sure everyone knows Mrs. Foster's illness isn't catching, so her students can come for after-school piano lessons beginning at four-fifteen each weekday and all day Saturday. As soon as I'm home from work, I'll be teaching them until she's back on her feet.”

He could tell she'd already made a plan, probably during a long, sleepless night, if the tiny dark smudges under her eyes were any indication. How would she manage to work at the bank and teach piano lessons in addition to caring for Mrs. Foster? He wouldn't question her, though.

“I'll spread the word. Anything else?”

A tiny sigh escaped her. “If there's a lady who can sit with her while I'm at work, that would be...wonderful.” She breathed out that last word on another sigh, and he longed to take her in his arms. Instead he crossed them to keep the temptation from overpowering him.

“Maisie Henshaw, of course.” He should have thought of her before. Maisie and her sisters were in the thick of things no matter what was happening in the community.

Marybeth laughed softly, wearily. “Of course.”

“I'll go right over there and ask her, but I've no doubt she's already planning to come by today with Doc.”

With those details taken care of, he stood gazing into those shadowed hazel eyes. Right then and there, he knew he loved her with all his heart. She could have moved out like the others. Could have done a lot of things to ensure her own ease and interests. But she'd stayed to help an old widow who couldn't do a thing for herself. That bespoke a deeper character than he'd given her credit for after realizing she'd never planned to marry him. He'd forgive her and forget all of that. The Lord knew well and good how many times Rand had needed forgiveness in his life.

This wasn't the time to talk about it, though. Nor was it the time to ask if she would still help with the Christmas party. In fact, if Nate and Susanna agreed, he'd cancel the whole thing because he sure couldn't do it all by himself. An event like that took a lot of planning and work, and he'd never paid attention to how Mother and Rosamond did it all.

He sure hoped his parents wouldn't be disappointed in him for failing to continue a family tradition, their annual gift to the town they'd founded. The children in the community would especially miss it, and so would their parents. He was disappointed enough in himself. This was just another failure to add to his list. How could he even think of courting Marybeth if he kept on letting people down? What kind of husband would he make?

* * *

He came to offer help.
Until that moment Marybeth hadn't realized how utterly bereft she'd felt after the other boarders moved out. Through a sheen of tears, she watched Rand leave, enjoying the view of his manly form as he strode out the front gate, leaped into the saddle on his brown-and-white horse and rode away at a gallop.