Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen

by Flightner, Ramona

  Tobias shook his head. “No. I wonder, Bears.” He sighed and leaned forward on his elbows. “I wonder if I didn’t already have my chance and if I squandered it.”

  A long silence ensued between the two men, with the sounds of laughter and animated voices telling stories drifting in from the living room. “What I’ve found, Tobias,” Bears said in a low, thoughtful voice, “is that every day, I have a chance to enhance or to endanger this life I’m creating with Fidelia. Every day is a choice. And every day, I pray I choose correctly.” He shook his head. “I know I won’t always make the right decision, but my hope is that my constancy will ease any pain I might cause my wife when I do falter.”

  “She wants her life as a teacher over me,” Tobias whispered. “She’s terrified of depending on anyone but herself.”

  Bears made a small grunt, as he stared at a point in the kitchen, deep in thought. “Show her she has nothing to lose.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Tobias whispered.

  Bears leaned forward, one finger pointed at Tobias, before he tapped it on the table. “You have family. If your store went belly up, would you starve? Would you be thrown into the street?” At Tobias’s instinctual shake of his head, Bears barreled on. “You’ll never suffer for employment or support. Jane would give you a house from one she won from her bet.” He stared long and hard at Tobias. “Give Alvira what you hold most dear, Tobias. Give her everything.”

  Bears rose, slapping Tobias on the back, as he left to join the rest of the family.

  Tobias sat in stupefied silence, as he considered Bears’s advice. Although he knew it was unconventional, he understood the reasoning behind it. If this helped rid her of her fear, so be it.

  * * *

  A week before Christmas, Alvira sat at the small kitchen table in her cabin near the schoolhouse. The small stove pumped out heat, and she had a pot of stew bubbling on the stovetop for supper. She’d swallow a few bites, although she wasn’t truly hungry.

  Forcing herself to look at the newspaper in front of her, she found the words and letters blurred until they were indecipherable. Closing her eyes, she sat and finally contemplated what Jessamine had suggested days ago. She forced herself to imagine her life continuing on as it was. Alone. Empty. With only her job as her company.

  As she felt a sense of deep panic fill her, she considered a life with Tobias. The conversations, the arguments, the times when words wouldn’t be needed. Her anxiety lessened, and a deep longing filled her. A deep resolve spread through her, and she suddenly felt light and filled with purpose. Although she wished she could work and marry Tobias, she now knew she wanted Tobias more.

  At the rap of knuckles on her door, she gave a small shriek. “Coming!” she called out, annoyed that a student’s parent would hinder her from heading to find Tobias, just as she had come to this momentous decision. As she yanked open the door, she attempted to paste on a welcoming expression. When she saw Tobias filling her doorway, she gaped at him in wonder. “Tobias.”

  “Miss Damon,” he murmured. “Might I come in?”

  “Please,” she said, her gaze roving over him. She frowned as she saw the dark circles under his eyes and the resolute stiffness in his shoulders. She wanted him to smile and to laugh and to find joy with her. She wanted to bring that to his life. Instead she’d evoked heartache. “Forgive me,” she blurted out.

  “For what?” he asked, shaking his head as he watched her intently.

  She shrugged inanely. “Would you like tea?” She waved in the direction of the stove, belatedly realizing her stew had boiled down to almost nothing. She moved to it, taking it off the heat, setting a kettle there.

  “No, Vera, I didn’t come here for tea.” He watched her with frustration, as she flitted around the stove, away from him. “Dammit, why won’t you look at me?”

  At his plaintive question, she spun to stare at him, and the teapot rattled to the countertop. Her thunderstruck gaze met his, and she shrugged. “I’m ashamed. Embarrassed. Uncertain what you want. What this means.” She waved at him, standing by her table. “Afraid.”

  “Of me?” he whispered.

  “No.” She let go of the counter and pushed herself toward the table, her legs wobbly, as she grabbed onto the back of a chair for support. “Never you.” She took a deep breath and whispered, “What if you no longer feel the same? What if I’ve ruined everything?”

  She watched as he sighed, setting down the paper in his hand, before he shucked his coat. When his gaze lifted to hers, it was filled with a solemn tenderness, one she’d never thought to witness again with regard to her. “Tobias,” she breathed, her throat choked with tears. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve been miserable without you,” he murmured, taking slow measured steps in her direction, as though afraid to frighten her. With a quick glance to the side, he saw the curtains were drawn and that they had privacy. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come to you. I had to overcome my fears too.”

  Smiling, Alvira reached out a hand, tracing away frown lines between his eyes. “I was about to come to you. I was annoyed at the knock on my door because I thought it was a parent, prolonging the time until I could see you again.”

  Running a hand over Alvira’s shoulder, he dropped his hands by his side and did not touch her further. “Tell me what you want. What this means.” He paused and swallowed. “Whatever it is, please be resolute.”

  Taking the final step, she pressed herself against him, sighing with delight to feel him against her. She wrapped her arms around his back. “I am certain. I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

  Dropping his head, he kissed her hair. “What is it you want?” he whispered.

  “You.” She arched back, so she could gaze deeply into his eyes. “I realized tonight, as I sat here in a misery of my own creation, that all I want is a life with you. And everything that entails. The laughter and conversation, the arguments, the joy, the sorrow. Everything.”

  “You want me more than your teaching?” he asked, his voice low and uncertain.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so lonely, Tobias. I’ve always been alone but rarely lonely. Not until this year. Now I know what I’ve missed, and I don’t want to go through life only half alive. It’s not enough anymore.”

  “Be certain,” he whispered.

  “I’ve already faced Mrs. Jameson and Katrina. I’m ashamed to admit I allowed them to manipulate me and to feed my fears. I promise I won’t again.”

  Cupping her cheeks with his palms, he pressed his forehead to hers. “They will always be here to challenge us.”

  “Yes, but I’ll look to you to ease me of my doubts. I won’t give them any credence. I promise, Toby. I’ll put my faith in you.”

  He groaned, yanking her tight as he shuddered. “I never thought to hold you again.” He shuddered again when he felt her arms squeezing him as tightly as he held her. After a long moment, he eased her away. “Come. I want to show you something.” He swiped at his eye and smiled at her, as he grabbed her hand and led her to the table and the piece of paper he’d dropped on it. “Here.”

  She gazed at him in confusion. “I don’t understand.” She flipped open the folded paper, gasping at what she read. “No, Tobias, no!” She thrust the paper at him, shaking her head. “I don’t want this. I don’t need this.”

  He pressed her hand away, urging her to keep the paper. “I want you to have it. I want you to have no doubts.”

  Tears coursed down her cheeks, as she tore the sheet of paper in half and then in half again. “I have no doubts. I don’t want your store. I want you.”

  “Vera,” he rasped. “I’ll have Warren write up another contract. And I’ll add in how I wish for you to privately tutor the children at our home, if need be.”

  “Really?” She looked at him in awe. “You’d do that for me?” She gazed at him in wonder, before shaking her head. “I’ll tear that up too,” she said, with a defiant tilt of her chin, her eyes glowing w
ith determination. “I will never sign that.” She swallowed a sob, as she held a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry for ever making you believe I wanted money or success or my profession or anything more than I wanted you.” Her voice broke as she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Vera,” he moaned, tugging her into his arms. “No, lass, no, my darling.” He kissed her head, as he ran his hands over her. “No, my love.”

  “I love you so much, Tobias. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” She shivered after saying the words, backing away to meet his gaze. At the wonder and hope in his eyes, she raised a shaking hand to trace her fingers over his jaw. “I love you.”

  With a groan, he yanked her to him, kissing her passionately. After a few moments, and before deepening the kiss to the point of no return, he backed away, panting. “I love you, Vera. So much. Be my wife. Share this life with me. The good, the beautiful, and the frustrating times.”

  “I said it before, but I truly mean it.” She stood on her toes to kiss him and settled back on her feet. “Yes, I will marry you. Tomorrow if we can.”

  He gave a whoop of delight, lifting her up and swinging her around. “Oh, my love, my darling,” he whispered. “You’ve made me so happy.” With a sigh, he held her against his chest. “I don’t know if the pastor will marry us.”

  “He will,” Alvira murmured, with a sly smile. “I live near him. I know Pastor Fitch’s secret comings and goings. He won’t deny me.” She winked at Tobias. “As long as we are married by Christmas, I will be content.”

  * * *

  The following day, Alvira worked at her desk at school, forcing herself to read again what she had attempted to read three times already. However, her mind continued to fantasize about what her wedding would be like—small but filled with joy, only a few friends and family in attendance. She hoped Jane would come and perhaps Cailean and Annabelle. Other than that, she doubted there would be much interest in her wedding.

  When the door to the schoolhouse opened, she gazed to the front, sighing in resignation as she saw Katrina Tompkins walking toward her. “I’m certain there is little we have to say to each other.” Alvira rose but remained behind her desk. “You have no child in school. I have no need to speak with you.”

  Katrina sneered at her, as she looked over Alvira’s serviceable blue-gray wool dress. “You are homely and unremarkable. I can see why you’d be desperate enough to accept a proposal from a man such as Tobias. I doubt you’ve had many opportunities in the past.”

  Alvira took a deep breath and braced her hands on her desk, as though garnering strength or her resolve to not attack the woman. “I don’t particularly care about your opinion with regard to me or to my fiancé. Nor are you invited to our wedding.” She paused as she met Katrina’s glower. “There is nothing you could say that would turn me away from Tobias or from my desire to marry him.”

  “You don’t care that he had a child with me and still tossed me aside?”

  Her breath caught, and Alvira gazed at Katrina in horror for a moment. Shaking her head, she whispered, “You lie. I know you lie because I see the joy he takes in Jane. If you had been with child, with his child, the Tobias I know would have done anything needed to care for him. Or her.”

  “You’re the gullible one now!” Katrina cried out. “He cared more for his store than he did for me. He’s always cared more about money and earning more and more.”

  Alvira smiled, shaking her head. “Are you certain you’re speaking about the same man? That’s not Tobias.” She gasped when Katrina lashed out, striking her across her cheek. Her head flew to the side with the strength of the other woman’s blow, and Alvira stumbled back a step. “Get out. You are not welcome nor wanted here. I will not believe your lies.”

  “You’ll be sorry. I’ll make him sorry,” Katrina vowed.

  “I already am,” Tobias said, as he stepped out of the very back of the schoolroom and the shadows. “Leave while you can.” His voice was filled with rage, as he fisted his hands. He nodded when he saw Katrina blanch at the ire in his gaze. After she had sidled past him, he focused on Alvira. “My love, she hurt you.”

  Smiling and then wincing, as it pulled on the tender skin of her cheek, Alvira held a hand to her face. “Only when I move my mouth. Thankfully it’s winter, and there’s plenty of snow and ice.” She sighed with relief when he pulled her into his arms. When she felt him quivering, she murmured, “It’s all right, Toby. I’m fine.”

  “She hurt you,” he whispered again.

  “Barely,” Alvira murmured, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’ve had little boys in a rage do worse damage.” She smiled at him again, ignoring the pulsating pain in her cheek. At his intense stare, she paled. “What is it?”

  “You didn’t believe her. You defended me.”

  She nodded, her gaze filled with her absolute faith in him. “Of course I did. She’s manipulative and mean and spiteful. I should never have allowed her to play on my fears. I should always have had faith in you. In us.” She kissed him.

  He shuddered. “The thought of having had a child with her fills me with terror.” At her whispered sound, he murmured, “I would have been bound to her for life. I’m so thankful to be free of her.”

  “I’m glad you are too. I can’t imagine a life without you. A future without you,” Alvira murmured. “I only wish we could have a child. I’m sorry I’m too old.” Her eyes filled with regret, and she ducked her head in shame.

  “You’re perfect as you are, my love. We’ll have Jane to love, and we’ll adore any grandchildren she has. Above all, we’ll have each other.” He paused, as he looked deeply into her eyes. His breath hitched, as though he were to speak, but he remained quiet.

  She raised her hand, cupping his jaw, her brows furrowed, as she stared at him with love and devotion. “I never dreamed I’d be so fortunate. I could ask for nothing more.” Standing on her tiptoes, she rose to kiss him softly.

  Chapter 12

  Alvira approached the rear door of the bakery, a feeling of trepidation in her stomach. Although Annabelle MacKinnon had been nothing but friendly, as had Jessamine and Jane—even when interfering or giving unasked-for advice—Alvira still had trouble envisioning herself as truly welcome in their large boisterous family. Taking a deep breath, she paused on the shoveled steps, before raising her hand to knock.

  She heard laughter and conversation inside, so, when no one answered her knock, she took another deep breath and pushed open the door, poking her head inside. “Hello?” she called out. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Alvira!” Jane cried out, running toward her. She pulled her into the warm kitchen, redolent of everything delicious that had been baked that day, and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you.”

  Alvira flushed and smiled. “You too, Jane,” she whispered, flushing, as everyone in the room stared at her. “I’m sorry to interrupt. It appears you’re having a party.”

  “A party?” Annabelle said, with a wide grin. “No, this is how we are most days after we close the bakery. Our husbands appreciate we are wild and loud before we come home.”

  Jessamine, who today sat at a stool at the table in the center of the room, smiled mischievously. “Speak for yourself. Ewan likes it when I’m wild and a bit wicked.”

  Alvira flushed brighter, as everyone else snickered and giggled. “I fear I shouldn’t have interrupted …”

  “Don’t be silly,” Jane said, looping her arm through Alvira’s and tugging her farther into the room. “You’re soon to be part of the family, and I couldn’t be more delighted.” Her eyes glowed with anticipation and happiness, proving her words true.

  Annabelle approached Alvira, placing a hand on each of Alvira’s shoulders. She gave them a gentle squeeze as she looked deeply into Alvira’s eyes. “You’re part of the MacKinnon clan now, Alvira.” She spoke in a soft voice, as though understanding how overwhelming this could be for Alvira. “You don’t have to knock at the door or to worry ab
out your welcome. You’re always welcome.”

  Unbidden, tears formed, and Alvira tried to free herself from Annabelle’s hold. However, Annabelle had an implacable grip and tugged her close for a hug. “I don’t know why …” Alvira stammered.

  “Of course you do.” Annabelle held her close and patted her back, as she would her daughter, Skye. “I know what a group of us together can be like.”

  Alvira pushed away, swiping at her cheeks, as she looked at the other women in utter embarrassment. “Please don’t put me in the paper.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t hide the pleading in her voice and in her gaze, as she stared at Jessamine.

  Jessamine frowned as she approached Alvira. “Never.” She flinched. “Well, until I write about your joyous wedding and the triumphant vindication of a man many had thought past redemption.” She reached forward and squeezed Alvira’s hand. “I’ll never publish anything that would intentionally harm you or Tobias. I promise.”

  Alvira gave her hand a subtle squeeze. “I’m unaccustomed to such freely offered friendship and affection.”

  Fidelia laughed. “You’ll get used to it, if you spend any time with us, which I hope you will.” All the women in the room murmured their agreement to her statement. Fidelia looked at Alvira and shook her head. “You didn’t order anything, and you don’t have your basket. Why did you come by today?”

  Alvira blushed again, running a hand over her cloak. “I’m to marry Toby,” she whispered, a broad smile emerging at the thought. The joy in her gaze only brightened as she saw her happiness reflected back at her from the women who would be her family. “I don’t want to shame him.”

  “Shame him?” Jane asked, running a hand down Alvira’s arm. By this point, all the women had surrounded her, acting like mother hens. “You could never shame him, Alvira.”

  “I have nothing decent to marry him in,” she whispered. “We want to marry before Christmas—or at least by New Year’s.” She fingered her cloak again and ducked her head. “I’m not a seamstress, and I’m vain.”