Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set (3 page)

“It is.” She looked a little nervous, just as he was, and faced him directly. “I have to say the town is charming, and as for Amelia, well, she’s obviously everything you said she was.”

“Beware, I may have left out a few key pieces of information about my daughter.” He shrugged, feeling more awkward than he could remember being in a long while. “Just thought I should warn you.”

“Pa! I can’t believe you said that.” Amelia whirled to face Mercy. “Really, Pa has this old-fashioned notion that girls can’t do anything that boys can do.”

“I didn’t say that you can’t. Only that you shouldn’t,” he corrected.

“I think this is going to be interesting.” Holding her son’s hand in hers, Mercy smiled. She extended her free arm to his daughter and drew her in against her side, as warmly as her real mother should have done.

Amelia beamed, gazing up at Mercy Jacobs as if she’d hung the moon and all the stars.

This was so much more than he’d ever hoped for. The woman was not only caring, but just as prim and proper as he’d deduced from her letters. Her blond hair was tucked up behind her brown hat, every strand in perfect place. Her brown wool coat, while showing a lot of wear, was in good repair, buttoned to her throat. The toes of her polished albeit patched shoes peeked from beneath her skirt ruffle. But it was her face that told him the most about her, the wholesome goodness shining from her, the cautious set of her mouth, the demure way she lowered her gaze from his. The concern she showed for her son, the caring she extended to Amelia.

A lump rose in his throat, and he was ashamed of giving in to his feelings. It was simply too much to bear. Mercy Jacobs had lived up to her word.

Now it was his turn to live up to his.

“Hello, George.” He knelt down so he was eye to eye with the quiet boy who’d been studying him beneath the brim of his cap. Cole held out one gloved hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since the first time your mother wrote me about you.”

“You have?” The boy gulped, surprise and hope flashing in his eyes. Shy, the boy blushed, searching for words, perhaps not knowing what to say next.

Cole sympathized with the kid. He knew what it was like to be without a father. He knew what it felt like to look at a man and wish more than anything he could be the father you needed. With a grimace, Cole closed the door on his memories, the ones from after his mother’s marriage, of the disillusionment and fear he’d felt at the hands of his stepfather. He choked up, vowing little George would never know such things.

“I’ve wanted a son all this time,” he told the boy. “I work long hours in my store so I don’t have as much time as I want to ride my horses. If I teach you to ride, like I promised, will you help me out by riding them for me?”

“Uh-huh.” George vigorously nodded his head, a world of hope filling him up, showing his dreams.

“Good.” Cole had dreams, too, ones he’d been trying to hold back. He loved his daughter with all he had, but he’d wanted a bigger family. Daughters to protect and care for, sons to teach and share his love of horses and inherit his store. Not knowing how to say these things, he reached out and gripped the boy’s shoulder. The childish feel of him, small and vulnerable, filled Cole’s heart. Just filled it.

Good to know at least there was room for dreams to come true, even at this time in a man’s life.

“C’mon,” he said to the child, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you out of this cold. Look, it’s starting to snow.”

“It’s real snowy here.” George let go of his mother, gazing up at her as if to ask permission.

“Stay where I can see you.” She nodded. “Don’t run ahead.”

“I won’t,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’ll stay right beside my new pa.”

* * *

George placed his hand in the man’s much larger, stronger one. Seeing those capable fingers enclose around her son’s gave her the courage to let him trail ahead of her. It wasn’t easy letting go, trusting a man she didn’t know well with her son’s heart. But Cole seemed to take the responsibility seriously as he led the boy across the platform.

“You have to see the place we fixed up for you.” Amelia surged ahead, holding on tight. “There are rooms Pa rents above the store, but he kept one for you and George. Temporarily, until you get married. It’s got everything you’ll need in it. Me and Eberta, she works for Pa in the store, we got the prettiest things we could find.”

“That sounds wonderful. I can’t tell you what that means.” She tapped down the stairs, checking on George’s progress. Already he was tripping along the boardwalk alongside Cole while tiny airy snowflakes danced in the air around him. She turned back to the girl, her soon-to-be daughter, and drank in all her wonderfulness. Strawberry-blond hair, enthusiastic blue eyes, a faint trace of freckles across her nose. Her zest for life was refreshing. “I’m so happy to be here with you, Amelia.”

“I know! That’s just how I feel, too.” The girl’s grip tightened, as if she never intended to let go.

Affection welled up, unexpected and instant. Just like that, she felt a mother’s bond to this child. As if God had meant for them to be together, as if He’d sat in His kingdom knitting their kindred hearts together. Gratitude filled her as she headed down the boardwalk, making her eyes blur.

“That’s the post office right there.” Amelia pointed across the tidy street. Snow was shoveled into piles against the base of the boardwalk, keeping the way clear for shoppers. A horse and wagon rolled by with a rattle. “There’s the milliner’s shop.”

Mercy blinked against the grateful tears, bringing the town into focus. Colorful awnings protected the boardwalk from the snow, cheerful front display windows advertised presents and Christmas decorations adorned front doors and hitching posts. Garlands and wreaths and Christmas trees lit by tiny little candles.

The snow fell harder now, driven by a brisk wind. It clouded her view of George ahead, casting him in silhouette. Little boy, hand in hand with a big man. His new pa. Gratitude rushed up so strongly, her eyes blurred again.

Be everything you promised to my son,
she asked, watching the faint, impressive line of Cole’s broad shoulders.
Please.

“There’s Grummel’s Barber Shop.” Amelia danced ahead, pointing across the street. “Right next to Lawson’s Mercantile. We get our groceries there. Oh, and this is our store.”

“Matheson’s Dry Goods.” Mercy tilted her head back to read the sign swinging in the wind. Icy flecks of snow tapped her face as she squinted at the long bank of front windows belonging to the shop.

My, she’d never expected a man who advertised for a mail-order wife to be prosperous. Her jaw dropped at the size of the building, at the tasteful displays of fine products behind the glass and the expansive, impressive oak counter spanning two sides inside the store. A merry bell jangled as Cole opened the door.

“Eberta and I decorated the windows. Didn’t we do a good job?” Amelia tugged her across the threshold, through the door Cole held for them.

“Yes, it’s lovely. I love the way you decorated the Christmas tree.” She breezed past him, aware of him watching her carefully, aware of a sort of sparkle in her heart as their sleeves brushed. Just for a moment, just for an instant, and it was gone. She stumbled after Amelia, breathless, not sure at all what had happened.

“You must be Mercy.” A kindly plump woman circled around the counter, her salt-and-pepper hair tied sternly back into a strict, no-nonsense bun. She wore a brown dress with no adornment, but a friendly smile chased away any impression of sternness. “I can’t tell you how good it is to meet you. This has been a long time coming in my opinion. If there’s anything this one needs, it’s a mother’s guiding hand.”

“I’m not sure how guiding I’ll be, but I’ll do my best.” Mercy took the woman’s offered hand, squeezing it warmly. When she looked into those dark eyes, she saw a friend. “You must be Eberta.”

“Yes, and no matter what that man tells you, I am more than capable of running this store without him.” The elder woman arranged her pleasant face into a schoolmarm’s glare. “Yes, very capable indeed. Cole, what are you doing back so soon? I thought you were taking the rest of the day off.”

“There’s thirty or so more minutes left of the business day.” Cole closed the door with a jangle of the overhead bell, swiping snow off his hat. “It is the busy season.”

His casual shrug belied his true feelings, or so Mercy suspected. She untied her hat, snow sifting to the floor, watching the man. Here, in the lamplight, she could see things she hadn’t been able to spot in the shadowy gloam outside. The deep lines radiating from his eyes, the sadness in them, the air about him as if he’d given up on hope entirely.

She recalled what he’d written in his letters. He’d told her his heart had been broken long ago. He had only pieces of it left to give, but he would give what he had to George.

She’d taken that to mean there were no pieces left over for her. And that was fine. George was what mattered here. She wasn’t exactly sure why that made her sad.

“That man, it’s all about work with him.” Eberta waved her hand, dismissing him, in the way of a good friend. Caring warmed her voice, softened the scowl she sent him. “We’ll see if you can change that, Mercy. In my opinion, it would be an improvement.”

“So you’re telling me this man needs to change for the better?” She couldn’t help teasing, keeping her tone gentle and soft, so that perhaps he would understand. “I suppose that’s true of every man, but I’ve vowed to accept Cole as he is.”

“Bad decision,” Eberta quipped, bustling back behind the counter when a customer approached. “Don’t you think, Mrs. Frost?”

“Absolutely.” A lovely blonde lady nodded emphatically as she set her purchases on the counter. “Goodness, my Sam was a disaster when I first met him. He took a lot of training up.”

“Funny.” Cole’s face heated, turning bright red. “I seem to remember Sam was just fine to begin with.”

“A man
would
say that,” Mrs. Frost teased as she pulled several dollar bills from her reticule. She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly. “If only they could see themselves from a woman’s perspective. Mercy, is it? I’m Molly. So glad to meet you. Something tells me you are exactly what a certain someone needs.”

“Hey, you can say my name,” Amelia spoke up sweetly. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings. I know I’m incorrigible. Pa tells me all the time.”

“Incorrigible?” Mercy noticed the way Cole winced, and also the fond look the customer, Mrs. Frost, sent the girl. She liked the sense of community here. She liked the friendliness these people had for one another. It chased away more of her anxieties. Whatever was ahead, Cole was clearly a man others thought well of. She winked at Amelia. “No one mentioned incorrigible in their letters.”

“I did warn you there would be surprises.” Cole looked terribly uncomfortable as he shrugged off his wool, tailored coat. His green flannel shirt looked to be new, of high quality, fitted well to his muscled shoulders and granite chest. “Molly, perhaps it would be best not to point this out until after the wedding?”

“Right, what was I thinking?” Molly winked, accepted her change from Eberta and her packages. “Mercy, it’s lovely to meet you. I hope to see you again soon. Amelia, try and stay out of trouble.”

“I’m never in trouble.” Amelia grinned widely. “It all depends on how you look at it.”

“Hmm, you sound like my girls.” Molly laughed, smiled warmly at Mercy as she passed and leaned in to say something quietly to Cole. She waved at George, slipped through the door Cole opened for her and was gone, leaving them alone.

Even in the busy store full of bustling shoppers, even with their children between them, she felt alone. Lonely. Mercy sighed quietly, for this was what she had expected. It was what she knew, what her first marriage had become. Why would this relationship be any different? As if not knowing what to say, either, Cole turned to help George off with his coat, for one of his buttons had gotten stuck. She’d sewn it on too tightly when it had popped off on the train.

“Amelia,” Cole said as he worked the button free. “Why don’t you take Mercy and George to their rooms? That is, unless you want to stay here and help me in the store, George.”

George bit his bottom lip, debating. Torn between going with his mother or staying with his new father-to-be. His blue eyes met hers imploring. “Can I stay here, Ma?”

“Of course you can. You come upstairs and find me when you’re ready.” Her words felt scratchy, sounded thick and raw with the emotion she felt. A mix of gratitude and relief and sadness. In gaining this marriage, she had to let go of George just a little bit, to share him with Cole.

This was for the best, she hold herself, knowing deep in her stomach it was true. Look at the care the man took with her son. Leading him around the counter, talking to him kindly, telling the boy he was just the helper he needed. Dreams for her son, the ones that had brought her here, filled her heart. George gazed up at the man with adoration, eyes wide with wonder.

Yes, a loveless marriage was worth that, she thought to buoy herself, letting Amelia pull her away. She touched her fingertips to the sprig of mistletoe pinned to her coat collar, remembering the conductor’s kindness. Well, she did not need a kiss on Christmas. No, she wanted a happy son and a happy daughter. It was the children who mattered.

Chapter Three

“I
t’s getting dark.” Amelia dropped both satchels on the landing outside the door at the top of the narrow staircase, turned the knob and burst across the threshold. Her shoes tapped a merry rhythm as she darted ahead into the twilight room. “But Eberta lit the fire for you. It’s toasty warm up here.”

“Yes, it is.” Mercy unbuttoned her coat, moving into the shadowed rooms. Her steps echoed around her. “Can I help?”

“No, I’ve got it.” A flame snapped to life and Amelia carefully lit a glass lamp on a table next to a horsehair sofa. A nice, comfortable-looking sofa. The girl carried the match to the second lamp on an identical table, careful to protect the flame. “What do you think? Eberta and I worked real hard.”