Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen

by Flightner, Ramona

  * * *

  Alvira entered the Merc, relieved to find it empty. She had found what she searched for in her cabin, and she dreaded speaking with Tobias. She wanted no witnesses for what would ensue. When he looked up and stared at her with hope and joy, she paled.

  Dropping his pencil, he rounded the back counter, striding to her. “What is it, Vera?” He gripped her arms, his brows furrowed, as he gazed at her with concern. “What happened at school today?”

  Shaking her head, she looked around her, noting the number of townsfolk walking past the front window of the Merc. “I must talk with you privately.” When he waved her toward the hallway that would lead her to the back, she bowed her head in agreement.

  When she entered the kitchen, she paced, unable to stop her nervous movements. Only when Tobias entered and stood in front of her, his patient yet worried gaze focused on her, did she still. “I don’t know what to do!” she cried out.

  Opening his arms, Tobias murmured, “Come here, my darling.”

  She sighed with relief, as his arms wrapped around her, and she smelled his cologne. Breathing deeply, she attempted to calm her panic, but she found it nearly impossible. “I don’t know if we can marry,” she blurted out, hating the way he froze in her arms. “Please, listen to me.”

  Tobias backed away, his gaze now guarded, as he stared down at her. “You don’t want to marry me?”

  “No!” she gasped, her hand grabbing his arm. “Yes. I think I do.” She bit her lip, her protestations only making things worse. “That’s not what I’m saying.” She ignored the tears leaking from her eyes, as she stared at him, her expression plaintive, silently imploring him to listen to her. “All day, all I could think about was you. About the future we’d build together.” She paused, closing her eyes a moment, as though imagining those not-too-distant days.

  “Yes,” Tobias murmured. “You coming home, telling me about your day. As I tell you about mine. Sharing and laughing and finding joy in the everyday events.”

  “That can never happen,” she cried out. “Once I marry, I can’t teach. I can’t have my own life. I can’t do anything!” Her breath emerged in pants, as she fought panic.

  Tobias pulled her close. “Breathe, darling, breathe,” he murmured, his hands roving over her. “All will be well.”

  “How can it?” she asked. “I love teaching. I wanted our marriage to add to my life, not take away from it.”

  He flinched at her words. “Are you certain teaching will be denied you?”

  She pressed her face against his chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “I found my contract and reread it. It plainly states that, if I marry, I forfeit my wages and my position. I was a fool to ever dream differently. Very few places approve of a married schoolteacher, and those only until they can find a replacement. I was living in a fantasy, believing it would be different here.”

  Holding her close, he rested his cheek on top of her head. “It’s more than simply missing teaching,” he murmured. “You’re afraid of what will happen if you depend on me. Depend on anyone but yourself to survive.” He released her, coaxing her to a seat.

  He pulled the other chair close to her and sat so he could hold her hand. “You have to trust me, Alvira,” he said in a low voice. “With every part of you, including your deepest fears.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Do you think I don’t worry that I’ll wake and that this will all be a dream? That I’ll once again be a miserable, lonely bastard, angry at the world for all I no longer have? That you will come to your senses and decide to leave me before we marry? Or to leave after we are wed?”

  He sighed and gazed at the floor, his brows furrowed, as he gathered his thoughts. “There are no guarantees, Alvira. I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you because I know I will. What I can promise is that I’ll never hurt you out of spite. It will be unconsciously done and will cause me as much pain as it ever caused you.” His eyes shone with sincerity. “I realize you have to give up so much more to be my wife, and I’m sorry. I can’t change society for you.” Pausing, he squeezed her hand. “I had hoped …”

  She waited, but he never finished his last sentence. “You had hoped I thought you were worth it,” she whispered, her throat tear-thickened. When his head jerked up, and she saw the myriad emotions in his gaze, her breath caught. “Tobias, I’m so sorry to hurt you.”

  He jerked away, dropping her hand as he rose and strode from her. He slapped his hand against a wall, his breaths sawing out of him. Fisting his hand, the muscles in his back taut, he battled the impulse to batter the wall with impotent fury. “So you’ve changed your mind. With no real discussion or consideration. Teaching is most important to you.”

  “Having some sort of independence is,” she countered, her hands fluttering in front of her, as though she could soothe him from across the room.

  He spun to stare at her. “Independence is an illusion, Alvira. We all need others. None of us get through this life alone.” His gaze shone with his devastation. “I understand why you fear what my family could offer. It can be overwhelming at times to have so many so invested in your well-being.” He smiled sadly. “However, I know how far worse it is to not have their love and devotion and care. To truly be alone. For that is what independence truly is. An abiding aloneness, Alvira.”

  “No, Tobias,” she said. “I can ensure I’m taken care of. That I’ll never be at the mercy of fate again.”

  Shaking his head, he stared at her with heartbreaking sadness. “How could you not understand that the moment you had married me, you would have had an entire family supporting you? If something had happened to me, you would always have been cared for. You would never be alone, poor, and unwanted.”

  He nodded to the door as he stood tall and concealed any deep emotion, staring dispassionately at her. “Thank you for your visit, Miss Damon. If you need supplies in the future, I’m certain the other Merc can sell you what you need.”

  “Tobias,” she breathed.

  “You should call me Mr. Sutton,” he rasped. “I’d hate to harm your reputation.”

  A sob bubbled forth, and Alvira clapped a hand over her mouth, as she spun and raced from the kitchen. With an unseeing gaze, she ran home to her empty cabin to contemplate her cowardice.

  * * *

  Alvira entered the bakery in mid-December, as she had been told that Mrs. Johansen was baking that day and that her pepperkake was available for purchase. Her mind, generally overwhelmed with thoughts of Tobias, had been filled with the actions of two of her schoolchildren, Hortence MacKinnon and Mildred Renfrew. Today they had sensed her somber mood and had lingered after school’s dismissal. Hortence, the more outgoing of the two girls, had raced toward her, hugging her tight around her waist. At Alvira’s startled gasp, the young girl had beamed up at her. “You seemed sad, Miss Damon. Mama said everything’s better with a hug.”

  She had patted Hortence, easing her away, as she forced a smile. “Yes. How kind of you to gift me one of yours.” Alvira watched the two girls, concealing her envy at the close bond they shared. “You’d better run on home, or your mamas will worry about you.” She was overcome by what might have been, had she acted differently a few nights ago.

  Closing her eyes, she flushed. How mortifying that even her schoolchildren had discerned she was miserable.

  Now, as the bell jingled over the bakery door while she closed it, she inhaled appreciatively, feeling like she had walked into a spice den. For a moment, her mood lifted, and she pushed aside her loneliness.

  As she turned to face the counter, her mood plummeted as she saw Jane, staring at her with thinly veiled disgust. “Mrs. Metcalf,” Alvira murmured. “I had hoped to purchase a few pieces of pepperkake.”

  Jane stared at Alvira incredulously. “That’s it? You want to purchase sweets after you’ve broken his heart?” She muttered to herself, as she yanked out the tray, placing two pieces in a paper bag, setting it on the counter and holding out her hand for a coin. “Good day, ma’am.”<
br />
  “Jane,” Alvira whispered, as Jane stormed into the back room.

  Uncertain what to do, she stood frozen, staring at the case filled with delicious baked goods for a long moment. Finally she gathered her purchase and exited the bakery. Rather than head home to her empty cabin and to her thoughts that brought her little peace, she wandered down the boardwalk. As she passed the local print shop, she paused to read the latest headlines. “Local Man Declared Dead Three Times. His Defense? He’s a Sound Sleeper.”

  Against her will, she giggled and leaned forward to read more. Just as she got to the part about the man awaking while at the undertakers, the story stopped, as the rest was printed on an interior page. “Clever,” Alvira murmured.

  “I’ve never seen you purchase one of my papers,” Jessamine said, as she leaned against the doorjamb to the print shop. “Come inside for a few moments and look around. Today’s a quiet day, and Aileana is napping.”

  Alvira accepted her invitation, uncertain if she’d had the option to decline. Upon entering the print shop, she stared at the papers hanging on lines, drying. A potbellied stove in the middle of the room pumped out heat, with three chairs angled around it. After the woman waved Alvira over, she sat in a rocking chair. She noted a large printing press against a far wall.

  “I’m Jessamine MacKinnon,” the woman said, with a smile. “I’m married to Ewan. We briefly met at the bakery a while ago, although you’ve been remarkably elusive since then.”

  “It’s nice to see you again,” Alvira said, with a subtle nod of her head.

  “Hmm, the schoolteacher, who’s tied the shopkeeper in knots. I know a little about you, although I’m always curious to learn more.” Jessamine watched her with a reporter’s avaricious curiosity.

  “I’ve no interest to be a story, ma’am,” Alvira said, flushing when Jessamine laughed. Settling into her chair, Alvira pushed it in motion and attempted to calm her roiling emotions. “You’re married but you still have a business,” Alvira said, filled with envy. “How is that possible?”

  Shrugging, Jessamine looked around her untidy workspace with pride. “I don’t work at the pleasure of the school board or the townsfolk. This is my business.” She smiled, her cognac-colored eyes shining with mischief. “Although, in a way, I do work for their pleasure, for, by teasing and tantalizing them with my stories, they purchase my paper and keep me in business.”

  Alvira sighed. “Yes, but they can’t fire you for marrying.”

  Jessamine sobered. “No. Although there were rumblings from a few townsfolk that I wasn’t settling down and being more wife-like. Little did they know Ewan was thankful for that, as I could probably kill him with my cooking.” Her smile broadened, with a hint of wickedness. “Besides, I enjoyed taunting the townsfolk by sending Ewan to the Boudoir for stories. They thought our marriage was in peril for the longest time!” She laughed with glee.

  “How can you make light of such a thing?” Alvira asked.

  “If I don’t, they’ll use it to harm us,” Jessamine said. “And there is little I won’t do to ensure Ewan and I are happy.” After a few moments of companionable silence, Jessamine asked, “Why is it you’ve never bought my newspaper? I can tell you were enjoying today’s edition tremendously.”

  Alvira shrugged. “I’ve never been fond of gossip.”

  “Gossip can harm, or it can entertain. I find that, by making it entertaining, it takes the sting out of what others might say about us.” She kicked her feet out, her boots hitting the wooden floor with a click. She stared astutely at the older woman. “You don’t like gossip because gossip was used against you.”

  Gasping, Alvira gaped at the reporter. “How do you know that?”

  “We tend to avoid that which has caused us pain or trouble in the past,” Jessamine said, with a negligent shrug. “The two worst gossips in town are rarely heeded, although many continue to find them somewhat entertaining. I believe you’ve already had the displeasure of meeting one of them.”

  “Mrs. Jameson,” Alvira muttered.

  Jessamine nodded. “Yes, although, if I were you, I’d try to avoid Katrina Tompkins. She just arrived to town this summer, and she’s a worthy rival to Mrs. Jameson.”

  “Peter’s mother?” Alvira asked. “The woman who ran off with Tobias?”

  Jessamine’s gaze was filled with amusement. “And you say you don’t like gossip.” When Alvira flushed, Jessamine nodded. “Yes, the very one. She returned and stirred up a hornet’s nest. Now she doesn’t have the money to leave, so she relishes every opportunity she has to cause trouble where she can. She’ll enjoy meeting you.”

  “Who’s to say she hasn’t already met me?” Alvira stiffened, as Jessamine studied her closely. “I fail to see why she’d continue to be interested in me now.”

  “Now that she’s already wreaked havoc, you mean?” Jessamine murmured. She shook her head, as though instinctively understanding what had occurred. “Don’t act disingenuous.” She cast a quick glance to the back of her shop, as though ensuring her daughter remained asleep. “Tobias cares enough about you to want to marry you, even now after you’ve gutted him. Katrina will do everything in her power to ensure that doesn’t occur.”

  “Why?” Alvira asked. “Why should she care now? I’ve already ensured it won’t happen.”

  Raising one brow and chuckling slightly, Jessie shook her head. “No, you’ve only postponed the inevitable. When you come to your senses, when you overcome whatever doubt and fear that woman sowed, you’ll marry the man and be happy you did.” Jessamine became more somber. “However, Katrina will do everything she can to ensure Tobias remains miserable. She hates him.”

  “Because he’s found love again?” Alvira asked, her head tilted in confusion.

  “No, because he’s been accepted into the family again. He’s a trusted member of the family. Not only of the Tompkins family, which would be enviable enough, but of the MacKinnons.” She waited for some reaction from Alvira. “You really aren’t from here if you don’t understand what that means.”

  “I understand enough to know that no family is strong enough to keep me from losing my position as a teacher if and when I marry,” she said bitterly.

  Sighing, Jessamine nodded. “It is unfair. Leticia lost her job too. However, she’s had a full and happy life with Alistair.”

  “She’s young. She has children. What will I have with Tobias? What will I bring to the marriage? Nothing!”

  Jessamine gazed at her, with a deep understanding. “You have no idea, do you?” At Alvira’s tormented gaze, she murmured, “He wants you for who you are, not what you can bring or can do. He wants you for you, Alvira.”

  Alvira held a hand to her chest. “That might be even more terrifying,” she whispered. “What if he realizes he’s made a mistake, and I’m not who he thinks I was? What if I’m a disappointment? What if he realizes he could have done so much better than me?” She swiped at her cheeks. “If I taught, I’d have something to offer. I’d have a job if …” She closed her eyes.

  Jessamine reached forward and clasped Alvira’s hand. “I’ll tell you what I did, when I almost forced Ewan away for good.” Jessamine took a halting breath, as though unwilling to recall those days. “Imagine your life with him in it and without him. Which life do you prefer?”

  Alvira gazed at her, uncertainty evident in her expression.

  Jessamine squeezed her hand and shook her head. “You don’t have to answer me. That is for you to know. Think about it and decide.” She paused. “Whatever you decide, be kind to Tobias. He’s a good man.” She pulled away her hand and rose to check on her daughter, leaving Alvira deep in thought.

  * * *

  That evening, Tobias joined Jane, Ben, Cailean, Annabelle, Fidelia, and Bears for supper. They were having a small family gathering. Warren and Helen were not here because she was tired, as her time to have her child neared. Plus Alistair and Leticia were absent, as she was exhausted from her latest pregnancy too. Her baby wou
ld be born midspring.

  The children of the parents who were here flitted to and from the table, as they raced into the living room to play, unconcerned about having enough to eat. They even ran outside to play in the snow, before returning when they got too cold. Tobias watched them with envy, wishing his life were filled with such innocence. Instead all he felt was a yawning isolation from the woman he loved. He hadn’t seen her in days, and he feared he never truly would again.

  He closed his eyes, as he thought about seeing her sparkling with laughter, her voice redolent with amusement, while she talked about the schoolchildren’s antics. He clenched his hands as he fought remembering the feel of her in his arms. He wished he could forget her.

  Bears angled his chair closer to Tobias, and he focused on the astute man who was an integral part of the MacKinnon family. Not only was he married to Annabelle’s sister, Fidelia, but he was also one-third owner of the livery. Tobias had heard he was the best horseman in the Territory. “Bears,” he murmured. “I hope you’re well.”

  “Better than you,” Bears said, with a wry smile. He ignored the departing MacKinnons, as he and Tobias were left alone in the kitchen to sip at their coffee. “You’ve lost your way again.”

  Tobias huffed out a breath and set his mug on the table with a clunk, not taking a sip. “Perhaps. Perhaps I was never meant to tread that path, and I was a gullible idiot.”

  Bears raised a brow, as he settled into his chair, kicking his legs out in front of him. His long black hair swayed behind him ever-so-slightly, and his brown eyes gleamed with a challenge, as he stared at the older man. “Why? You believe the lies tossed about that you deserve to be miserable your entire life because of the mistakes you made in the past?”