Mail-Order Christmas Brides Boxed Set (32 page)

“Right, you’re not a single lady anymore. You need to think of your betrothed. I understand. It’s not appropriate, you spending too much time with a bachelor.” He took a step back. “I’m disappointed. Sure you don’t want a sandwich anyway?”

“No, I’m sure you can find someone to share your lunch with. Maybe a pretty lady you’re sweet on?”

“Me? No.” At least she hadn’t guessed, Elijah thought to himself. He’d hidden his feelings for her better than he’d thought. “Guess I’ll see you around, Miss Eberlee.”

“Good day to you, Marshal.” Admiration and apology telegraphed across her porcelain face, a mix of emotions that he felt, too.

He walked away feeling like something was missing, that he’d fallen short. There would be no more spending time with her; he’d known it was coming. If only that knowledge could stop the ever-growing affection ruling his heart.

Love was all about timing. It was two people having the right feelings, felt in the right way at the correct moment in time. Even if there’d been no Tom Rutger and no engagement, Elijah feared he’d never be the man for Christina. What would a young lady like her, as beautiful inside and out, want with a lawman like him?

Tom was one blessed man. Elijah prayed the farmer knew it and after the wedding would treat Christina with the love and care she deserved.

* * *

“Elijah, did you get one of the houses?” Clint Kramer stopped his horse on the snowy street.

“Sure did.” His new house had been nothing but empty echoes, and he wasn’t sure how much a bachelor would fill it up. His fear was that his home would always feel empty, missing what mattered most. He leaned against the boardwalk’s railing. The feed store behind him wasn’t busy—only a few farmers were about, getting their feed purchased and errands done before the holidays. “I’m an official home owner and you and me are officially neighbors.”

“So you decided on the house down the street from me? Good.” Clint nodded his approval. “Wise choice. Are you moving in today?”

“Got furniture shopping to do.”

“Say, I’ve been keeping an eye out for that boy.” Clint leaned forward in his saddle. “I thought I had him, spotted him on the crowded boardwalk about a block from here, but it turned out to be a kid ducking school. I just came back from the schoolhouse.”

“Thanks for looking.”

“Don’t spend all your days off working, buddy. My office can do the looking instead.” Clint gathered his reins. “Well, my shift is nearly done. Want to meet at Bitsy’s diner for supper tonight? Five o’clock sharp.”

“Sounds good.” Much better than eating at the boardinghouse where Christina was sure to be.

“We’ve got to celebrate you being a homeowner, and just in time for Christmas.” Clint nudged his horse forward and tipped his hat. “See you later, Elijah.”

“See ya.” He came to the end of the boardwalk, stepped into the snow and spotted small footprints close to the side of the feed store. Fresh prints.

Could be any kid, he thought, except that school was still in progress on this last school day before Christmas break. He knelt to take a closer look at the print. About the right size, he decided, going down on one knee. Treads had worn off the shoe, just like Toby’s had been, and that looked like the imprint from a string holding one shoe together.

Gotcha,
he thought. His pulse beat a little faster as he followed the tracks round to the back of the store.

“Hey! What are ya doin’ in my sled, boy!” A man’s harsh shout echoed in the back lot. A man—was that Tom Rutger?—tossed down a fifty-pound sack of feed from his shoulder. “Put that down. Don’t you steal from me.”

Elijah bolted into a full-out run even before he saw a mop of dark blond hair bob up from the back of a homemade sled. Panic rounded the boy’s green eyes. Brown paper crinkled and groceries went flying as the kid launched out of the sled. Quick as a flash, Tom reached beneath the sled’s seat and a horsewhip snaked through the air, hissing and snapping.

“Ah!” Toby cried out with surprise. A stolen tin of crackers tumbled from his hand into the snow. The whip drew back, to lash again.

“Rutger!” Elijah shouted. “Don’t you dare.”

The whip sagged and Tom swore profusely in anger at missing the boy. Elijah darted around the sad-eyed mare, with more than a dozen healed whip marks on her flank. Something would have to be done about that later. All Elijah could see was Toby hightailing it down the alley. “Wait, Toby. It’s me. Elijah.”

“What’s going on out here?” Devon Winters, the store owner, poked his head out the back door.

“Fetch the sheriff,” Elijah ordered over his shoulder.

Toby ducked into the residential street, fast footing it between houses. Elijah gained ground and caught the boy by the collar behind a ramshackle stable. “Toby, why are you running from me?”

“I didn’t w-want to get arrested.” His little face scrunched up in defeat. “I’m a crook.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Elijah propped his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “You nearly wore me out. I’ve caught criminals a lot slower than you.”

“I am a criminal.” Big emerald eyes rounded with fear. The cold wind stirred his unkempt sandy hair, tousling it around a lump, bruised and purple, near his temple. “I don’t like it much.”

“What do you think your ma and pa would think of you stealing?” Elijah kept his tone gentle.

“They’d be mighty disappointed even if I only took things cuz I was hungry.” Toby’s head hung. “That’s why I do two good things for every bad one. I help real old ladies by carrying their heavy shopping bags. I shovel boardwalks. I know it don’t make it right, but I don’t got any money. No one will hire me cuz I’m a kid.”

“I see.” He thought of Arthur Lawson’s mysteriously shoveled boardwalk in front of the mercantile. He couldn’t say why that touched him, but it did. There was only one solution. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Are you gonna put me in chains?”

“No, as long as you promise not to run. I can’t let a hardened criminal like you roam the streets of this law-abiding town.” Elijah placed a hand on Toby’s shoulder. A hard ridge of bone seemed to poke through his clothes.

Across the way, voices rose on the wind, the feed store owner arguing with Tom Rutger, who’d gone red in the face. Apparently the man had quite a temper. Elijah tried not to think what a life married to Tom might be for Christina while he steered Toby by the shoulder away from the scene.

“Did he get you with his whip?” Elijah asked as they crunched through the icy snow.

“Nope. I was too quick for ’im.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.” Elijah wasn’t sure if he could have stayed calm otherwise. He thought of the boy he’d been at Toby’s age, growing up safe and loved with his family. That was before tragedy struck, before they were homeless, before they lost Ma. Every child’s life should be safe and secure and happy. “Where did you learn to run like that?”

“At the orphanage. I could outrun everyone. I used to go round and round the yard next to the fence just practicing until I was so fast no one could catch me.”

“Who would be chasing you?”

“There was this one big boy. He was a bully. He’d pound on you if he caught you. Sometimes it was the lady in charge. If something bad happened, like a dish got broke or you spilled your bucket of water on wash day, she’d take the cane to the first kid she could catch.”

“I see.” The way Toby blew out a troubled sigh made him believe the boy. Toby may be many things, but he didn’t seem to be a liar. “So you don’t have any family anywhere? Not even a cousin or a grandmother?”

“Don’t know. The orphanage couldn’t find none.” Toby stopped, stock-still in the lane. “What’s jail like?”

“Well, there are bars on the doors and windows.” Elijah nudged him down an alley. “The good part about jail is you get three meals a day.”

“Good meals or bad ones?”

“Good ones.”

“Marshal?” Toby’s hand crept into Elijah’s. “Am I goin’ to your jail?”

“For now. Nothing scary is going to happen to you, I promise.” He guided the boy between buildings and they emerged onto the boardwalk next to the Range Rider territorial office. “We have to wait and see what the sheriff says. He has jurisdiction over the town. I’m a lawman for the territory. So you’ll wait here with me to see what he wants to do. How does that sound?”

“Okay. I’m real sorry. I don’t like stealin’.”

“I know.” He remembered being homeless and sleeping under the stars rolled up in blankets, hunger gnawing through him, making it impossible to sleep. He opened the door. “Go sit by the stove and warm up. We’ll see if I can’t talk Burke, the other marshal, into running up to the bakery for us. How does that sound?”

“Real fine, sir.” Toby looked so little as he ambled across the office and sat by the red-hot stove.

Elijah had no idea what he was going to do with the boy. Send him back to an orphanage? No, that didn’t sound like the best option. Unless he could think of something else, it was the only one he had.

* * *

Christina missed Elijah, wishing she could have gone with him to look at houses. She didn’t mean to wonder how he was, but he filled her thoughts even when she tried to stop them. Just like she couldn’t help picturing what spending the afternoon with him would have been like. They would have laughed, they would have talked, they would have shared smiles and little jokes.

That’s the connection she wanted with Tom. Every time she thought of him, her heart felt like a boulder, sliding farther and farther down in her chest. She had to believe once she knew him better and saw more of his heart, her doubts would vanish.

There was only one problem. She didn’t love Tom. How did you make your heart fall for someone? Could you think your way into love? Or was her lack of feeling a sign that their marriage wouldn’t be a happy one?

No, not that. Her step faltered and she grabbed a railing for support.
Please let him be the man I need,
she thought.
Please let him be a good husband.
A flake of snow danced in on the wind and brushed her cheek. Was it a reassurance from heaven? Or a warning? She’d been so certain that Tom would be exactly the man she’d read about in his advertisement.

Across the street, she spotted a familiar gray mare. Tom was still in town? She crossed the street, wanting to see him, needing to see if she could will her heart to feel. She spotted him through the window in the sheriff’s office. Was something wrong? She skidded to a stop on the boardwalk, watching through the perfect frame of glass as Tom launched out of a chair, fury like a rash on his face. He stormed toward the door in a temper, threw the door open so hard it crashed against the wall and rattled windowpanes.

She stared at the raging man, big and frightening. “Filthy little beggar,” Tom yelled over his shoulder. “And I’m the one you bring in? What kind of rotten sheriff—” He spotted her, he skidded to a stop and clenched his rough hands into angry fists. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Walking back from the church,” she said, staring at him. He vibrated with rage and yet before her eyes he willed it from him like a chameleon. The strain washed from his face. His eyes went from rampant to placid.

“But it’s not Sunday.” He plunged his hands into his coat pockets, perhaps to disguise they were still clenched into fists. “What were you doin’ at church?”

“I wanted to meet the minister, since he will be marrying us.” She felt uneasy with Tom. All that rage, where had it come from? Where had it gone? “What are you doing in the sheriff’s office?”

“I was nearly robbed today and that blasted—”

“Tom!” she exclaimed. He’d sworn, something he’d written in his letter he never did.

“Pardon me for swearing.” Anger leaked out in a huff, and as if remembering himself he blew out a breath, rearranged his face and tried again. “I meant to say, I was carrying a sack of pig feed out to my sled and found someone going through my groceries. Worthless riffraff, just helping himself to what’s mine.”

“Worthless riffraff?” That was no way to talk about another human being. “If someone was stealing groceries, perhaps they were in need—”

“Not my concern.” He untied the mare, who took a step away from him. “I was innocent, but the sheriff hauled me in like a criminal. They just let that kid—”

“What kid?” Christina asked, but she knew anyway. A bad feeling gripped her stomach.

“Oh, some filthy kid.”

“Did he have green eyes, sandy hair and a black coat?” She knew it was true even when Tom didn’t answer. She couldn’t believe it. The way he’d spoken of Toby, a little boy, made her blink back tears. “You didn’t press charges against him, did you? Is he safe with the sheriff?”

“You’re worried about that kid and not me?” Tom yanked hard on the reins. Too hard. The mare whinnied in pain. “You’re my intended, Christina. You accepted my proposal. I deserve your respect. You need to be worried about my feelings, not some—”

“You didn’t answer my question, Tom.” Disappointment hit her hard. She staggered, clutching the hitching post for support. He wasn’t a good man. He wasn’t the husband she needed. “I saw you talking with the sheriff, but I didn’t see Toby. Where is he? Answer me.”

“Let’s get this straight right here and now.” He rose up greater than his nearly six-foot height. “You don’t give the orders around here. Now get in the sled. I’ll drive you to Mildred’s.”

“I’d rather walk.” The wind shifted, driving icy flakes into her face. They caught on her lashes and struck her cheeks like tears. Tom was not her knight in shining armor. He was not the man he’d promised to be.

“You disappoint me. You’re not the woman I expected.” Tom marched around the far side of the mare, lost in the swirl of newly falling snow.

What was happening to her life? It was supposed to be getting better, but instead it felt as if it were falling apart. She watched Tom hop into the sled, snap the reins and the gray mare lunged forward, pulling him away from the boardwalk until the haze of the storm swallowed him.

“He wasn’t being honest with you, miss.” A deep voice boomed with sympathy. The sheriff stood in the open doorway, the door Tom had left open when he’d stomped from the office. “That wasn’t what happened with Toby.”