Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen

by Flightner, Ramona

  Fidelia made a sound of disagreement, and Annabelle snorted. “You’re not vain for wanting to look your best on your wedding day. If you’re fortunate, it will be your only wedding day.” Fidelia smiled at Alvira. “Another bonus in joining the clan is that you gain all of us. And I’m an excellent seamstress.”

  Alvira gaped at her. “You are? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “It’s not an imposition when it’s offered.” Fidelia spoke in a soft tone, her gentle voice soothing Alvira’s anxiety. “Do you know what cloth you’re interested in?”

  Flushing, Alvira nodded. “I’ve looked at the fabric Toby has at the store, and one is the palest blue wool. I don’t know how I’d purchase it without him knowing or suspecting.”

  Annabelle grinned at her. “Well, it just so happens that Cailean was talking about purchasing me a new dress for Christmas. Perhaps you could help me choose the fabric, Alvira?” She winked at the older woman and then pealed with laughter. “You’ll find we’re devious when we need to be.”

  Alvira looked around the small cluster of women, her heart overflowing with gratitude for this chance to be part of their group. To be considered worthy of their friendship and esteem. She knew she would never take their friendship and concerns for her for granted.

  * * *

  At the ring of the bell on the front door of his store, Tobias looked to see who walked in. He was working on a list of things he wanted to do upstairs before Vera moved in. His jaw clenched at the sight of Old Tom Whitlock. Setting aside his pencil, he stood, staring at the man who had tormented his Vera. “Whitlock,” he said in a cold voice, as he fought to keep from glaring at the man.

  “Sutton.” Tom Whitlock, a man of middling height with broad shoulders, always had a look in his eyes as though he were waiting for an ambush.

  Tobias wondered how exhausting life must be to always be on alert as he was, although he felt little sympathy after the way he had treated Alvira. Tobias waited to see what Tom Whitlock wanted.

  “I need flour, sugar, and some spices.”

  Rather than move to fill his order, Tobias stood with his arms over his chest. “How are you paying for this order?”

  “I have credit.” Tom jutted out his chin in defiance, as though daring Tobias to deny him.

  “You had credit, yes.” Scratching at his head and appearing bemused, rather than showing the rage he felt, Tobias murmured, “Things have changed.”

  “Why?”

  “You were rude to the schoolmistress.” He paused, as he saw a red flush of anger on the man’s cheeks. “You tried to bully and to scare her and made your son feel it was appropriate to treat her in such a way.”

  Tom strode to the counter, until he could reach out and grab Tobias, if he wanted to. “You’ve gone soft for a woman,” he goaded Tobias. “You’re a weakling.”

  “Say what you will about me, but, as it stands, I own this store. I determine who receives credit and who doesn’t. A man who bullies the new schoolteacher is not someone worthy of receiving any more credit.”

  Tom Whitlock paled, unable to hide the panic in his gaze. “We need the supplies.”

  Tobias paused, studying the proud man. “Did you never consider that Miss Damon could help your son have a better life than the one you lead? That by teaching him to read, he could be more than an itinerant worker, hoping to earn enough so his family didn’t starve?” He shook his head when Old Tom flushed with indignation. “Dare to dream for your son. Don’t hold him back due to your fears and your disappointments.”

  Tom glared at him for a moment, before spinning on his heel and rushing away. With a sigh, Tobias wondered if he had helped anyone, although he felt a deep satisfaction at having defended Alvira. He had a deep need for everyone in town to understand that she was cherished and would be protected from any and all abuse. With a sigh, he stared at the clock on the wall of the store, counting down the minutes until he could see her again.

  * * *

  That evening, Tobias stood on her doorstep, shifting from foot to foot. He admonished himself for feeling so nervous at seeing her again, but he had sensed her discomfort while she was in the store earlier today. Although he wanted to have faith in her, and his heart still leaped with joy at her defense of him against Katrina, doubts lingered.

  Knocking on her door, he braced his hands against the doorjamb as he heard her footsteps approach. When she flung open the door, he beamed at her. “Vera.” His breathless word seemed to make her blush brighten. “My love.”

  “Toby,” she whispered, reaching forward to tug him inside. “It’s chaos in here right now, but it’s too cold to be outside.”

  He glanced around her previously tidy home, noting stacks of books and piles of clothes. “It looks like a tornado struck.” He chuckled when she shrugged and nestled into his side. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “There’s my Vera.”

  “I missed you,” she whispered. “Is it silly to admit that?” She tilted her head back to stare at him, as she confessed her feelings.

  “No,” he murmured. “I worried I was the only one missing you.” He kissed her head, holding her closer. “You were distant when you came into the store today.”

  She burrowed into his embrace. “I was with Annabelle, and I needed to help her.” She gazed up at him. “What did you think of the fabric she bought?”

  He grunted and shrugged. “It’s pretty, but I’m surprised she needs more clothes.” His gaze focused on her when she squirmed in his arms. “Vera, what’s going on?”

  “It’s a surprise. Please?” She raised her hands to cup his face, standing on her toes to kiss him.

  With a sigh, he smiled, his eyes closed. “If you think you’ll get around me this way, you will.” He kissed her again, softly. “There is little I wouldn’t do to see you happy, Vera.”

  Giggling, she dropped to her feet and backed away a step. “Good. There’s something else I want.” She sobered as she stared at him. “I want to see your home. See what will be our home.” She stilled when he froze. “Unless you don’t envision me there.”

  “No,” he gasped, his hands reaching for her and gripping her hips. “Of course I do. I want you with me. I never want us to be apart.” He took a deep breath and then another. “I fear it’s a bit of a mess. There are rooms that are little more than dust collectors, and I haven’t thought much about comfort in too long. Just today, I started making a list of all the things I need to do in the short time I have before you join me there.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and flushed. “I should have thought about bringing you to such a place before now.”

  She bit her lip and took a deep breath, as though marshaling her courage. “Do you want me there, Toby?”

  His eyes glowed as he stared at her, ardent in their intensity. “Hell, yes.” His hands rose to cup her cheeks, his thumbs running over and over her soft skin. “I want you with me, Vera. Working in the store, chatting with me, telling me a tale from your youth, working on a puzzle together during quiet moments.” He paused, his cheeks reddened. “I want you with me.”

  “You won’t mind if I want to make a few changes or ask Fidelia to help me sew new curtains?” When he laughed, she smiled. “I’ve never had a home that would be mine,” she admitted in a soft voice. Waving her hand around, she whispered, “I’ve only ever had a temporary home.”

  He cleared his throat, his eyes glowing with promise. “When we wed, Vera, everything that is mine is yours. I promise you will never want for anything. I will always cherish you. I will do everything I can to make you happy.” He took a deep breath. “But I fear I will already disappoint you.” He raised a hand to cup her face.

  “Toby?” She instinctively covered his hand with hers. “I don’t understand.”

  “The pastor wants to wait until after Christmas for us to wed.” He saw the flash of dismay in her gaze. “I told him that I would accept waiting as long as we were wed before New Year’s.” He smiled. “He will wed
us on Saturday the twenty-eighth.”

  She beamed at him. “I’ve always dreamed of a wedding on December 28.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry, darling. All will be well.”

  * * *

  Alvira took a deep breath, holding her hands over her waist, as she acted as though she were perfectly calm. However, she knew it was all for show, as she was terribly nervous about how her first and only Christmas show would go. She knew the songs the children would sing would be well received. However, she doubted the children would remember their lines for the impromptu pageant they had been practicing, and she hoped their parents would find their stumbles and stutters charming, rather than irritating.

  A strong hand rested on her shoulder, and she smelled the distinctive scent of sandalwood, sweat, and spices, immediately relaxing her. Sighing, she closed her eyes, as a sense of peace enveloped her. “Toby,” she breathed.

  “Hello, my love,” he murmured. “I hate to see you so tense. All will be well. The parents will appreciate all you have done, as we rarely have a Christmas pageant.” He kissed the sensitive skin at her nape and then ran a soothing hand down her arm.

  “Will they?” she whispered, as she spun to stare at him, sharing her fear with him. “Will they understand and appreciate this, even though it’s not perfect?”

  “Nothing in life is perfect, and parents understand that better than anyone.” He rubbed a finger over her brow, clearing away frown lines. “Come. Start the pageant, and let your students shine.”

  Alvira impulsively leaned forward to hug him, holding him close for a long moment. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to imagine this without you here, supporting me.” She stepped back, her breath catching at the depth of emotions in his gaze.

  He lifted her hand, kissing her palm. “There’s nowhere else I’d want to be, Vera.” He smiled at her and urged her out from the shadows to face the waiting parents and townsfolk.

  For this evening, she had commandeered the Odd Fellows Hall, as it was larger than the schoolhouse, and she wanted plenty of room for all the parents and the children’s families. Many of the townsfolk, even those without children, had come, as any entertainment in the middle of winter was appreciated.

  The mumblings and quiet conversations halted, and Alvira took a deep breath as she spoke. Soon the pageant had begun, and she beamed at her students as they sang, performed the small play, and recited poetry. Few had needed her prompting, and she had seen more than one parent wipe a proud tear off a cheek. With a sigh of relief, she knew this evening had been a success.

  When the Christmas show had concluded, the parents swarmed around their children, congratulating them. As of tonight, there would be no school again, until the town found a new teacher. Alvira sighed with regret as she watched her students, a deep sadness pervading her, even as she was filled with hope for her future with Tobias.

  Alvira turned at the sound of her name, pasting on a friendly expression as Old Tom Whitlock stood in front of her. “Hello, sir.”

  “Miss Damon,” he said, shifting from foot to foot. “I wanted to thank you for this pageant and to say I’m sorry for being disrespectful. I wish you was stayin’ on, and you could help my boy. I want him to learn to read.”

  Gaping at the man, she paused before speaking, as though uncertain she had heard him correctly. “I wish I could help him too.”

  He noticed her hesitancy and stiffened. “I meant no offense.”

  “You’re serious?” she asked, as he was about to stride away. At his embarrassed nod, his cheeks flushed red, Alvira smiled at him. “I’d happily teach Tommy. After Christmas, we can determine a time that would work. Perhaps at the store, when there are lulls in patrons.”

  “You’re sure, missus?” Tom Whitlock bit his lip and then blurted out, “Sutton said, if my boy was to read, he could get ahead in this world.”

  Alvira gasped, before nodding. “Mr. Sutton isn’t wrong, Mr. Whitlock. Reading will give him opportunities that he might not otherwise have had.” She squeezed his arm. “We’ll talk after Christmas. After my wedding.” She smiled at him. “Merry Christmas, sir.”

  Watching him blend into the crowd, Alvira stood in stunned silence for a few moments, before focusing on Warren Clark, who strode to the front of the room. He cleared his throat as he waved his arms around, garnering everyone’s attention, before people began to depart. “Hello, everyone!” he called out. “I must say, that was the best Christmas pageant I have ever seen, and I would like to congratulate Miss Damon and all the schoolchildren for their hard work.” He clapped, and soon everyone clapped with him.

  When the applause died down, Warren again spoke. “I know many of you have voiced your concerns and frustrations to me that such a good schoolteacher will no longer be teaching upon her marriage in a few short days.” He paused, as grumblings of “It’s not fair” and “Something must be done” sounded.

  He held up his hands. “I agree with you. After hearing enough of your concerns, a meeting of the School Committee was called. It was decided that Miss Damon, soon to be Mrs. Sutton, could continue to teach, if she so chooses, until the day she has a child.” He smiled with gleeful satisfaction at Alvira, as he made the announcement.

  Alvira stood in absolute shock at his pronouncement. She shook her head in awe, as she glanced around at the delighted faces of the parents. None were disgruntled or disgusted at the prospect. All were relieved. “Truly?” she gasped out, a tear trickling down her cheek.

  “Truly,” Warren said, with a broad smile. “If you so choose.”

  Alvira began to speak and then paused. “I must speak with Mr. Sutton first.”

  “If she wants to teach, then she will teach,” Tobias proclaimed from the side of the room. “I have no objection.”

  Spinning in the direction of his voice, she stared at him in wonder and then beamed at Warren. “I will teach. School will start again mid-January. An announcement of the date will appear in the paper.” Her breath hitched. “Thank you.”

  Warren stepped aside; parents talked to their children again, and Alvira swayed in place, the shock of the moment overwhelming her. When Tobias approached, she threw herself in his arms, uncaring that the entire town witnessed it. “Hold me.”

  “Always,” he murmured.

  “How is it that my deepest dreams are coming true?” She eased away to stare at him, her eyes lit with an incandescent joy. “I will marry you and still teach. Did you have any idea Warren was to make such an announcement?”

  He shook his head, grinning at her. “I would have been by your side if I did, just to ensure you didn’t fall over.” He chuckled, as she flushed at his teasing. “I’m so happy, Vera. Now you’ll have everything you’ve wanted.”

  Her eyes glowed a deeper blue as she looked at him. “As long as I have you, I’ll always have everything I wanted.”

  Chapter 13

  The morning of Christmas Eve, Alvira stretched in her bed, anticipation running through her. She shivered, as she considered that, if she was this excited about Christmas Eve, what would she be like for her wedding day in four short days? She had yet to see the dress that Fidelia was sewing her, although she had patiently stood for measurements for what felt like hours. Annabelle had bribed her with cake, and she had happily indulged her now out-of-control sweet tooth.

  She rose, pulling on a robe and moving to her front door. She knew it was foolish, but she hoped there would be a Christmas Eve treat for her from Toby. He had continued to find ways to surprise her, and she would miss this small act of courtship, once they were wed.

  Peering out the door, she gave a small squeal of delight to find a parcel on her freshly swept doorstep. Glancing around, she saw no evidence of him, although she suspected he had hidden himself away and was watching her. She blew a kiss into the wind before picking up her treat and shutting the door.

  Unwrapping the plate, she gave another squeal of delight to find a slice of Leena’s pepperkake. Alvira sniffed and then sniffed ag
ain, the thickly scented spice cake filling her senses. After making a hasty pot of coffee, she sat at her table and nibbled at the treat. Although she wanted to gobble it down in a few quick bites, she forced herself to savor the Norwegian delicacy, which Leena baked only during the Christmas season. Alvira had been fortunate enough to purchase her pepperkake twice and had thought she would have no more until next year.

  “Oh, Toby,” she whispered, as she took the final bite with a contented sigh. She feared he would spoil her, but she enjoyed his version of caring for her. He never made her feel guilty or selfish for enjoying the way he ensured she was well. It was as though his joy was enhanced at seeing her taken care of and happy.

  She sat at her table in quiet contentment, as she contemplated the evening two nights before, when he had proudly proclaimed she could teach if she so desired. Although she had never doubted that he would keep her from continuing on as the town’s schoolmistress, she had been overwhelmed by the pride in his voice as he declared the decision was hers.

  With an irrepressible smile, she rose to wash and to change, eager for the day’s festivities. A half hour later, she was ready, although she was uncertain if it was too early in the day to arrive at Annabelle’s house. Turning to find a book she wanted to share with Annabelle, the letter fell to the floor, and she stared at it in horror. She picked it up, her eyes rereading the harmful missive.

  She stood, rocking forward and backward, in her living room, as doubt about her welcome filled her. Memories flooded her mind of a previous holiday, where she had been welcomed, before suffering a soul-crushing banishment. Rather than race out the door to the MacKinnons, as she yearned to do, she sat in her rocking chair and picked up a book, staring at it blindly, while she attempted to marshal her courage once again.