The Sweetest Mail Order Bride (Sweet Creek Brides Book 1) (12 page)

“Yes. Sadly that’s a lesson learned too late.”

“I’m glad you understand my woes.” Those bronze threads in his irises gleamed as he held out his hand.

As naturally as breathing, she took it. Her fingers curved around his larger ones, the flat of her palm met his. Why did her feelings have to deepen for him with every touch? She hopped from the seat to the ground breathless and when she let go of his hand, her heart ached as if with a loss.

You can’t love him,
she told herself. But her heart wasn’t listening.

“For you.” He presented her with the daisies and left her standing in the grass as he circled around his buggy. The vehicle shook slightly as he climbed aboard and Ed leaped to life, ready to get on with his job.

Caleb waved as he left her. She waved back, watching him go. The warm wind gusted, stirring the daisies she held. The fields of grass rustled and whispered. The sun brightened, impossibly bright. Only then did she realize she was standing in front of Jeb’s house.

Oh, you’re in trouble, Clementine,
she thought.
Big, big trouble.

It had taken every scrap of self-control to drive away from her. Caleb gripped the reins tight, jaw clenched, to keep himself from turning around. She’d affected him. She’d gotten into him. He couldn’t seem to concentrate on driving or even care about his work. What had she done to him?

In a daze, he pulled Ed to a stop and hopped down from the buggy. That’s when he noticed the two envelopes tucked on the seat. The same envelopes he’d had the girls give her. That stubborn, wonderful woman.

The front door of the farmhouse opened and Mrs. Eugenie Bell smiled out at him, dressed in a housecoat. The ruffle of her nightgown showed beneath.

“You were a little late,” she called out. “I worried some emergency had come up, which meant someone was real sick or hurt.”

“No, just got a bit waylaid.” If being emotionally broadsided by a pretty woman counted as being waylaid. He grabbed his medical bag and headed up the walk. From inside the house, he heard another voice.

“Ma, what are you doing up? I told you I would watch for the doctor.” Philomena Bell rushed up to take her mother by the shoulders. “See what a terrible patient I have? Doc, come right on in. It’s nearly lunch time, but I kept the coffee pot on just in case you needed a cup.”

“I’ll never say no to coffee.” He forced a smile, stepping into the foyer. It was like walking in a fog, almost as if his body was moving along without him.

Because part of him was still back there in the road outside his father’s house. That part of him hadn’t wanted to leave Clementine. No, he’d wanted to stay with her. Tenderness had taken hold of his heart, and he couldn’t stop it. Like a seed it grew, flourishing, blooming, becoming something beautiful.

He wanted to go back and replay those last moments with her. After handing her those daisies, he should have followed his heart. He should have taken her into his arms and kissed her. Held her to his chest and felt her sweet softness against him.

“—isn’t that right, Doc?” Philomena was saying. “Rest, rest, rest. It’s the only way you are going to get over this lung fever.”

“Yes, you must take care of yourself, Eugenie.” He shook his head, hoping to clear it. His patient deserved his undivided attention. He set down his bag. “How have you been feeling?”

“Better. I keep telling my daughter that, but does she listen?” Eugenie gasped as she shuffled her way to the sofa. “I’m almost fit as a fiddle.”

“You’re ill and you need to rest to recover,” he argued gently, taking her hand to help her ease onto the cushions. “Your daughter is right.”

“There, you heard it from the expert.” Philomena rushed over to grab the afghan at the foot of the sofa and covered her mother. “Are you going to listen to me from now on?”

“No.” Mischief glimmered in the older woman’s eyes.

Caleb smiled. This was what his twins were missing—the bond with a mother. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to give them that. They deserved all the love they could get.

It just didn’t seem possible before Clementine. His throat ached oddly. So did his chest. He could feel the transformation in his heart. The broken pieces were no longer there. He felt whole.

“Howdy there, Doc!” Clancy the postmaster bounded through the door, taking off his hat. “I saw your horse and buggy outside. Guess you’re running a bit late today? I had planned on coming home for lunch to some good news.”

“Your wife is clearly improving.” Caleb swallowed hard, redirecting his thoughts back to his patient. “Your color is better, Eugenie. You don’t feel feverish.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” She sighed as she lay on the couch, a prisoner to her illness. “Give my daughter the order to release me, and I’ll bake you a batch of my famous cinnamon rolls.”

“Sorry, as much as I love your cinnamon rolls, you need to stay on bed rest until your lungs are clear.” He could tell by her breathing that they weren’t. “Let me have a listen.”

“If you insist.” Eugenie rolled her eyes, clearly not pleased.

He bent to open and reach into his medical bag.

“Sorry to hear about your mail-order bride not working out.” Clancy ambled over, his bushy eyebrows frowning together. “After all those letters you and the girls wrote. Jeb came in to mail them for you. When she came to town, I hoped there would be a wedding.”

Caleb frowned, pulling out his stethoscope. His father. He ought to be angry, and he would be—if the old man weren’t so ill. At a loss, he could only shrug. “At least Clementine will be staying in town.”

Staying, he thought, and that was a good thing. Images flashed into his mind of a possible future to come—of the girls chasing their pony around in the meadow and Clementine standing among the wildflowers, laughing. Of Clementine in his kitchen, with one twin on either side of her as they baked cookies. Of her turning toward him, a wedding ring flashing on her finger and her stomach round with their child—

He was surprised how much he wanted that.

And how much it scared him to be that vulnerable, to open his heart that much.

“Oh, I don’t know about her staying in town.” Clancy eased down into the chair next to the sofa. “She sent off that letter today to a gentleman over in Wyoming. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman look that sad, not in recent memory anyhow. Frankly, I was surprised you wanted a wife, but to get cold feet like that and reject her. Well, pardon me for assuming so, but it just doesn’t seem right.”

“No, that’s true. It isn’t right.” His voice was raw and gruff. His hands shook so badly he had to sit down. Clementine had written to another suitor? His pulse thundered through him, his heart beating so hard it hurt.

“Thanks for the ride, Katherine.” Clementine hopped down from the buggy onto the dusty street. Town was busy with horse-drawn vehicles and shoppers everywhere. She didn’t want to cause a traffic jam, so she waved, calling as she went. “See you tomorrow.”

“You’re a blessing, Clementine,” Katherine called out. “Are you sure you won’t take the job? It would save me hiring someone else.”

“Sorry!” Carrying her reticule and the daisies Caleb had picked for her, she skipped up the steps.

Some impatient driver called out, disgruntled that Katherine was blocking the lane, so the older woman was forced to abandon her argument and move along. She waved on her way by.

Clementine burst into the boardinghouse in a rush, glancing at the Regulator clock on the wall. Five minutes to spare! She rushed up the stairs with just enough time to leave her reticule and grab her apron. Effie was expecting her to help in the kitchen.

A little box sat in front of her door. Had the girls stopped by after school and left her something? She scooped up the box, juggled everything to get her key out of her reticule and unlocked her door.

Sunshine met her, casting cheer into the small corner room like a sign of good things to come. She set the daisies on her nightstand, her reticule on the bureau and plopped down on the edge of the bed to lift the wooden lid off the box.

A jewelry box, she realized, for inside was a gold locket. It shone in the sun’s light, its heart-shaped face etched with rosebuds. When she pried it open, inside were two daguerreotypes, the twins on one side, and Caleb on the other.

Hope rose within her, so strong it drowned out all else. Ribbons of affection wound around her heart. She remembered his touch and what she’d been afraid to see in his eyes—but she believed it now. He was falling, like she was, into love. This was a gift telling her what he wanted, a gift that spoke more than words ever could.

True happiness lifted her up, chasing away every sorrow, every hardship. Her new, precious dream of a life with Caleb and his twins was about to come true.

A rap on her door startled her.
Caleb.
She knew it was him before she looked up. Her affections gathered, taking flight. Yearning filled her—to see his smile, to look in his eyes and see his newfound affection for her, to find out how it felt to be held in his arms.

She bounded to her feet, practically flying across the room. Her skirts swished around her, her shoes barely touched the ground and she felt as if she were flying.

“Clementine.” His forehead furrowed, staring at the locket she held in her hand. “Where did you get that?”

His words struck like a blow. She froze, shock washing over her like ice. The happiness faded. The joy died. “Y-you didn’t leave this for m-me?”

“No.” He rubbed his forehead, distraught. He said the word kindly, but that didn’t stop the hurt.

She went cold from head to toe. “The girls?”

He nodded. “It was their mother’s.”

“Oh.” Disappointment hit hard. So, he didn’t feel anything for her. He wasn’t considering a future with her. How foolish of her to jump to conclusions and think he had. She steeled her heart, fighting the hard crack of hurt she felt. It took all her willpower to keep her head up. Could she keep her pain from showing? “I’m sorry. I leaped to a conclusion.”

“Anyone would.” The sympathy in his voice—or was it pity?—was hard to bear.

Her vision blurred and stubborn pride kept her blinking to keep the tears at bay. She whirled around so he couldn’t see how much she cared. She stiffened when his footsteps knelled on the wood floor behind her. If she could, she would break through the wall or kick out the window to escape. The last thing she wanted him to know was how desperately wrong she’d been. He wasn’t falling in love with her. He didn’t even care for her in that way. He had no idea how deeply she cared for him—

“You thought this was from me.” He cleared his throat. “And that it meant I wanted to court you.”

Did he have to be so direct? She didn’t dare speak. It was all she could do to keep the tears out of her eyes. Surely they would show in her voice. She whirled around, circling him and moving fast, heading toward the open door. Escape was so close, just steps away, when his hand curled around her elbow stopping her.

“Even after all this, you still thought it.” His tenderness cut her deep. “Is that why you’re crying?”

She
was
crying. Hot tears wet her cheeks. She sniffed, horrified. Stupid tears. They were giving her away. Humiliating her.

His grip tightened like an iron vise on her arm, as if he knew she was about to bolt. He held her in place, this man who had to know how dumb she’d been. How sad wanting a man to love her, a man who was never going to love her. Shame lodged like a ball in her throat.

“Here. Let me help.” The kindness of a doctor rang in those words, the same caring he probably showed to any one of his patients.

That made it all the worse as she felt the dab of his handkerchief against her cheek, saw the blur of him through her tears. The soft cotton brushed her cheek, drying her tears and catching the ones that kept falling.

“Will you be okay?” Again, that kindness. He probably had no notion how much it was hurting her.

She nodded, anything to get him to let go and get away.

“Did you know the girls have told me what kind of mother they want? They’ve been very specific. Someone who knows how to ride a pony. Someone who knows how to play fort in their tree house. Someone who can bake cookies. Someone who loves them no matter what. Did you know that you are everything they have ever said they wanted?”

Words that could kill her. She loved those twins, loved them with all her heart. Knowing she would never get to be their mother, never get to help them grow up, never get to see their adorable faces every day was a crushing loss. She’d had too much of that already. “Why are you telling me this? You have to know how much it hurts.”

“Because it’s important for you to know. I appreciate everything you do for my daughters. You’ve made them happy.”

“They’ve made me happy.” She choked out the words, blinking hard against the tears pooled in her eyes. “That’s something I’ll always be grateful for.”

“I see that.” He could look into her and see how much she was hurting. Gentle Clementine with her caring ways and contagious smile. She didn’t deserve this. Clementine who had come to town and won his daughters’ affections, brought sunshine to his father’s life and made his own heart live again.

“I hear you’ve got another prospect dangling on the line.” He brushed the pad of his thumb along her silken cheek, but no other tear fell. “Were you cheating on me? Two timing me with another man?”

“Technically it wasn’t you, it was Jeb. And no.” She swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. “As soon as I received that first letter from your father and the girls, there was no one else. You—”

She caught herself before she could say more, but he could see what she stopped herself from saying. Hurt clouded her blue eyes. Fresh grief shadowed her. He read in her heart the truth of her journey here.

She’d fallen in love with him in those letters. She’d come here to love him, not just the girls. The hurt she bore valiantly, fighting so hard to keep it contained, stunned him. It humbled him to see how much she cared.

It was wrong that she didn’t know how he felt, how much she’d changed him. “Will you stay?”