The Sweetest Mail Order Bride (Sweet Creek Brides Book 1) (8 page)

“Come in and warm up, young lady.” Jeb had opened the door. “Don’t you know it’s storming out there?”

“I noticed it was getting ready to blow in, but I came anyway.” She crossed the threshold, worrying about the rain dripping off her onto the hand-woven carpet beneath her muddy shoes. “Maybe I should have come in the back way.”

“Nonsense, we’ll let Katherine worry about it.” Jeb winked, eyes merry, although his face was pale. Terribly pale. “Ain’t that right, Katherine?”

“That’s right. Make a mess and let me deal with it.” A middle-aged woman with a pleasant face, bright eyes and apple-cheeks swept in with a mop. “We saw you coming, dear. You look cold to the bone. You go straight to the hearth and warm up. I’ll mop the floor before Jeb slips in it—”

“I’m not gonna slip,” he interrupted.

“—and I’ll bring you some tea,” Katherine finished, quite as if she hadn’t been interrupted at all. She swiped the floor with the mop and turned around. Her black skirts and white apron snapped as she disappeared down the hallway.

“What brings you out this way, missy?” Jeb eased down into one of two chairs by the hearth, breathing heavily. Too heavily.

Clementine couldn’t help worrying about that. She untied her bonnet, wincing at the water dripping onto the carpet. “I didn’t know you had a housekeeper. This could thwart my new plan.”

“What new plan?”

“The one where I take care of you, at least until my future plans come together.” She shrugged out of her coat. “I hear you’re having spells.”

“Jeremiah has been talking. It’s no doubt why Caleb showed up here this morning wanting to listen to my heart.” Jeb scowled, but nothing could chase away the look of love he had for his sons. “I see the worry on your face, too. I’m an old man. Things go wrong when you’re old. It’s a plain fact of life.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help.” Clementine spotted a few hooks on the wall by the hearth and snagged her bonnet and coat on them. “Will you at least tell me what’s wrong with your heart?”

“The doc says I have some sort of sickness in it.” Jeb waved off her concern. “Katherine is making sure I’m taking my daily powders. But if you tell any of this to Caleb, I’ll hold it against you.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” While she didn’t think it was right, one look into his eyes told her why. “You don’t want Caleb to feel responsible or guilty if the treatment doesn’t work. That’s why you won’t let him doctor you.”

“I saw enough of that with his wife and then the diphtheria.” Jeb’s lightness faded away. Sadness drew deep lines in his face. “You didn’t see how hard my boy worked to save everyone. He was sick himself and wouldn’t stop working. Finally, he collapsed, too weak to do more and Katherine came in to take over.”

“You must have been terrified of losing your sons then. You have to know that’s how they feel about you now.” She eased down into the chair, grateful for the heat of the crackling fire. “It’s a burden for Jeremiah and Katherine to carry alone.”

“We’re talking too much about me.” He cleared his throat, as if taking a moment to put aside his emotions. “What did you think of your little cottage?”

“I don’t understand how you could do such a thing.” She didn’t know if she was laughing or crying. Probably both. “It’s a house. A home.”

“One that can never be taken from you. After what you’ve been through, you deserve that. Have you seen it yet?”

“Yes. I went over to look at it before I came here.” She held her cold hands out to the fire, where the radiant warmth chased away the chill. “It’s adorable.”

“You like it?”

“Like is too small of a word.” She couldn’t begin to describe the feeling she had, turning the key in the lock. Pushing the door open and stepping inside, hearing the little three-room house echo around her. Knowing she would never have to worry about finding a safe place to sleep for the night because she already had one. “It’s just right.”

“I didn’t want to get you anything too big, since you’ll be moving in with my Caleb soon, providing you have a short engagement.” Jeb winked, turning toward the housekeeper bustling into the parlor. “Isn’t that right, Katherine?”

“I expect that’s the way it usually goes with couples in love.” The robust woman set a cup and saucer on the little table next to her boss’s chair. “Being as Caleb isn’t in love yet, it’s hard to set a date.”

“My point exactly.” Clementine took the teacup Katherine handed her. Steam curled up from the fragrant brew. Oh, it smelled good. It felt even better when the cup was cradled in her hands. “Thank you, but you know I can’t accept it.”

“What do you mean? You’ll only need it until you marry my son.”

“Katherine, is he always this stubborn?” She liked the way the housekeeper smiled right back at her.

“Usually he’s worse. You bring out a softer side of him. That’s a good thing, believe me.” Katherine nodded with approval. “It’s about time someone did.”

“Oh, he doesn’t look so bad.” She took a sip of tea and stood. “I’m sure you can handle him, Katherine.”

“What? Now there are two of you.” Jeb held out his hands in mock despair. “Whatever am I going to do?”

“It’s nice to have an ally.” Katherine smiled and gestured, leading the way through the house.

Clementine eagerly followed her. Somehow she would talk Katherine in to accepting her help today, since there were no available jobs in town. She wanted to make her time here useful, taking care of the people she cared about—for however long this lasted. It was a privilege she’d missed.

Caleb couldn’t get the image of Clementine out of his head. She’d stood there drenched with rain, battered by wind, unbowed. Lovelier than ever. Then she’d dashed away, becoming nothing but a splash of color in the gray until, finally, he’d lost sight of her.

“C’mon, Ed, let’s keep moving.” He snapped the reins because the gelding had come to a stop in the middle of the residential street, all because he hadn’t been paying attention. That’s what Clementine Parks did to him. She muddled his mind, and he’d be wise to banish her from his thoughts.

Then again, how could he banish her at all? If he wasn’t thinking about her, the twins were talking about her. Mrs. Clementine this, and Mrs. Clementine that—it’s all he’d heard when he’d been trying to put them to bed last night and get them off to school this morning. He frowned, because Clementine was a puzzle he didn’t know how to solve—or the strange, powerful pull she had on him.

The ring of children’s laughter drifted on the rainy wind. Even in the storm, the noontime schoolyard was full of kids running off their energy during their lunch recess. He caught sight of two identical girls racing circles around the schoolhouse. Endless love crept into every place in his heart, every space in his soul. The twins disappeared around the far side of the building, out of his sight.

Ed plodded along, obediently splashing through the mud and puddles, wet through. Water sluiced down the rain curtains as he drove closer to the school. Any minute his girls were going to come running back into view—there they were. Their faces damp with rain and bright with laughter.

“Pa!” Gracie spotted him first.

“Pa!” Hope came running, a step behind her sister.

He reined Ed to a stop and pushed the curtains apart. “Hi, girls. Are you supposed to be outdoors running in the rain? You’ll be wet clean through for the rest of the school day.”

“We don’t mind being squishy in our seats,” Gracie assured him.

“We dry out, Pa.” Hope smiled at him.

Synchronized, they hopped onto the running board, standing side by side.

“Did you see Mrs. Clementine again?” Gracie wanted to know.

“Do you want to marry her yet?” Hope got straight to the point.

“Because we like her,” Gracie informed him.

Hope nodded emphatically.

Clementine. The image of her laughing in the evening, and then that smile of hers shining softly like light in the storm got to him. She was like a brand on his soul, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“We talked about this last night.” He was gentle but firm. “I’m not going to marry Clementine.”

“But we picked her out and everything.”

“And Grandpa helped us!”

They both gave their best doe-eyed, innocent look.

It was hard to turn down those heartfelt pleas. He shifted his weight, staring at the reins in his hands, debating. Then he smiled. “Well, maybe Grandpa can marry her. After all, he picked her out.”

“Oh, Pa!” Identical scowls. Identical eye rolls.

That made him grin. “I like that idea more and more. Maybe we’ll suggest it to him the next time we see him. After all, aren’t you concerned about him being all alone? Poor Grandpa. He needs a wife, doesn’t he? And then you’ll have a very nice grandma.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work at all.” Gracie gave him her best glare as she hopped back to the ground, landing in a puddle.

“Yeah, Pa.” Hope looked equally disappointed in him. She dropped down beside her sister, standing in the same puddle.

Yep, those two were trouble, but he was terribly fond of trouble. He snapped the reins. “I’ve got Mrs. Popkema to check on. You girls be good.”

They didn’t answer him as he drove away, perhaps unwilling to make a promise they couldn’t keep. Emptiness seemed to follow him down the road as the schoolhouse disappeared behind him. Ed splashed along, and the wind blew cool and damp.

Caleb shivered. He could not stop his thoughts from returning to Clementine. He could not deny how thinking of her made the rain less dreary and the emptiness in him fade.

Storms always ended, that’s what Clementine liked about them most. She plopped the freshly washed sheets and towels into a laundry basket and hiked it up, settling it against her hip. She hauled it off the back porch and into the first bright rays of the breaking sun, and her spirits lifted.

There was such beauty in the world. She took in every detail—the way the yellow sunflowers lifted their nodding heads to revere the sun, the raindrops resting like dew on the delicate petals of daisies, the mist as the dampness rose like clouds from the ground to the sky to evaporate. She waltzed through the damp grass, listening to her shoes squeak in the wetness. She tilted back her head to feel the warmth of the sun on her face.

And then the past rose up, the memory slamming into her like a speeding runaway train. She remembered her baby boy as he sat in the grass, grasping at daisies and dandelions, laughing as a butterfly fluttered by. He’d reached out with his little chubby hands, his blue eyes bright with wonder—

Oh, Jacob.
Her heart broke, just broke, shattering unbearably. She dropped the basket where she stood, squeezing her eyes closed against the pain. Her body felt hollow, her arms empty. A tear leaked down her cheek.

Gone were the times when Jacob would reach up, his little hands stretching toward her, wanting to be picked up and cuddled. Gone was the merry sound of his laughter, his toothless grin, the little dimples in his chubby cheeks. The way he smelled so sweet, the softness of his skin, the baby-fine whirl of hair against her chin when she held him—all that was lost forever too.

She swallowed hard, struggling to get control. Grief was like a tornado threatening to suck her up. And then she felt a hand on her shoulder, a large, steadying hand. A father’s concern, and that made her heart hurt in an entirely different way.

“You’ll never get over it, and you never should.” Jeb’s voice cracked with emotion. “Our first born was a little girl. She died when she was two. Influenza took her. One day she was here, the next she was gone. The boys don’t remember her, and my Velma could never bear to speak of her.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She willed back the last of the tears and opened her eyes to the bright, bright sun, to life and color and beauty everywhere.

All of it didn’t seem to equal what she’d lost. The darkness could be so great.

But so could love.

Jeb cleared his throat. “It’s a blessing when a second chance comes your way. I’ve wanted a daughter all these years, not to replace what we lost, but to honor. And now there’s you.”

“Somehow it really does feel like we’re family.”

“You are family. I told you. I’m a man who keeps his promises. Now, what are we going to do about Caleb?”

“You are incorrigible.” She laughed through the sadness, feeling it disperse like the mist at the sun’s touch. “We’re not to going talk about that again.”

“We’re not?”

“No. But I am going to give Katherine the afternoon off and cook supper for you.”

“You wrote in your letters that you’re a fair cook.” Jeb took the basket from her, carrying it to the clothesline. “I was hoping you were being modest. Now that I’ve met you, I have a feeling you are an incredible cook.”

“I do have a few good recipes.” She reached up to shake the clothesline. Droplets sprinkled through the air, shimmering like diamonds as the sun touched them. “Should you be outside like this?”

“Just lending a hand is all.” He set down the basket in the grass and gave his hat brim a tug. “I’m not dead yet.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” She went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Now you’d better get inside before Katherine finds you out here.”

“Yep. If she catches me out here, I’ll be in the dog house again.” Jeb took off, shuffling slowly, rasping heavily as he went.

Clementine watched him go. For a moment, just one long moment, she let herself dream. That Jeb was her father-in-law. The twins were her stepdaughters. And that when Caleb gazed upon her, endless love would fill him up. Real love, the kind that happily-ever-afters were made of.

It was just a dream, that was all, but wasn’t it a nice one? She just wished her heart didn’t twist with longing. She hung the clothespin bag on the line and hefted a top sheet from the basket.

His last house call of the day. Caleb drew a weary sigh as he tied Ed at the hitching post outside the dry goods store. He tipped his head back, angling his hat to glimpse up at the second-story living quarters. He wondered how Mrs. Cates was feeling. Of all his current patients, she was the most serious.