A Bride of Convenience

by Jody Hedlund

  This time he couldn’t make himself smile back. Instead, heat spilled through his veins like low flames, blazing new trails and bringing him an awareness of the sharpness of his desire.

  As though she sensed the direction of his thoughts, her smile faded. She visibly swallowed before picking Violet back up and situating her against her chest, almost as a shield. The baby reached out and clutched a fist of Zoe’s hair, kicking her legs and cooing in obvious pleasure at being in Zoe’s arms again.

  Zoe’s lips turned up in a tender smile, and she bent and kissed Violet’s cheek.

  It was Abe’s turn to swallow hard. He didn’t know why he was in such a hurry to leave the cabin when all he wanted to do was watch Zoe. Why had he considered running to the bishop and asking for an annulment? Yes, their marriage had been impetuous. But she and Violet needed him. And maybe, just maybe, he needed them too.

  Zoe sneaked a peek in Abe’s direction. He wiped the last of his shaving cream from his chin and tossed the towel onto the table. He peered at himself in the small wall mirror, smoothed back his unruly hair, and then turned toward her.

  Attired in his suit and clerical collar from yesterday, he looked mighty fine. In fact, he’d looked mighty fine without them on too.

  She cast her sights to Violet, who’d taken another bottle and gone back to sleep.

  “So, I’ll get more milk and a few simple food items,” he whispered. “Do you need anything else?”

  Images of his bare chest swam in her mind. With his broad shoulders and bulging arms, he reminded her of a picture she’d once seen of a medieval knight. She could just imagine Abe brandishing a sword and shield, his muscles rippling, as he towered above the enemy.

  “Violet and I will be just fine.” She couldn’t meet his gaze lest he see the train of her thoughts and realize how fascinated she’d been watching his grooming. She wasn’t sure why she should be so fascinated. It wasn’t as if he were the first man she’d seen in a state of undress. In the close living quarters of the slums, she’d witnessed plenty of immorality, and she wasn’t naïve about what happened between a man and woman.

  Nevertheless, there was something different about Abe. Maybe his self-consciousness and modesty made her more aware of him. Or maybe he was so pure and different from all the men she’d known. Whatever the case, she was having a difficult time ignoring him.

  Daylight now cascaded through the windows. She rose and turned off the lantern and then situated Violet in her crate bed.

  Abe donned his hat and black broadcloth coat and crossed to the door. With his hand on the handle, he paused, his face troubled, as it had been from time to time since he’d awoken. Though his eyes were as kind as always, she could read the regrets there and guessed he was having second thoughts about marrying her.

  She couldn’t blame him. She probably wasn’t the kind of wife he’d hoped to have. And maybe after a night of thinking about the marriage, he realized his mistake. Should she give him a way out? It seemed like the right thing to do.

  He opened his mouth to say something, paused, then closed his lips firmly.

  “I’d understand if you don’t want me,” she said.

  Guilt clouded his eyes. “I’m sorry, Zoe. It all happened so fast, and I’m still trying to make sense of everything.”

  “I’ll go. I can find someone else. You’re not obligated to stay with me.”

  He shook his head. “No—”

  “Dexter Dawson was expecting me to marry him.”

  “Absolutely not.” Abe’s brows dipped in a scowl. “I wouldn’t give you over to Dex, not for all the gold in the Cariboo.”

  She liked so many things about Abraham Merivale and knew he’d be a good husband—probably the best she could find. But she couldn’t abide trapping him into marriage. She had to release him from staying, if that’s what he wanted. “One night together in this cabin doesn’t bind us.”

  She liked that he’d been patient and restrained last night. ’Course, she’d been wide awake when he’d gotten into bed. She’d waited tensely for him to reach for her and had been more than a little surprised—and relieved—when he hadn’t demanded anything. Instead, all he’d done was gently touch her hair.

  Aye, he’d bumped into her numerous times throughout the night—a leg or foot or elbow brushing up against her. One time, he’d even draped his arm across her. But he’d done so innocently in a deep sleep that hadn’t been disturbed even when Violet had awoken crying.

  “I blame only myself for our predicament.” His voice was harsh and filled with self-censure, and he tipped the brim of his hat down, casting a shadow over his expressive eyes. “In a moment of weakness, I acted rashly and went against my own principles.”

  What moment of weakness? Abe always seemed so strong and sure of himself.

  “I have no right to ask you to be patient with me as I sort through our options. But would you give me some time?”

  A part of her wanted to gather her belongings, pack up Violet, and storm out of the cabin. He didn’t want her and thought their marriage was a mistake. Though she didn’t want to be hurt by that knowledge, it pricked her anyway, more sharply than she liked.

  But when he lifted his eyes to hers, the churning blue radiated with apology, giving her no other option but to nod and accept his request.

  “Thank you, Zoe,” he whispered. Then he opened the door and was gone. Through the window, she watched him stride down the garden path, his shoulders slumped and head bent.

  The pricking in her heart turned into a stab of remorse. She should have known she’d landed in a situation too good to be true.

  With a loud exhalation, she pressed her hands against her hips and took in the disheveled state of the cabin. After a moment, she gathered her hair and began to tie it back into a loose knot. There was only one thing to do. Prove to Abe she’d be the kind of wife he wanted and needed. And she’d start by cleaning and organizing his house.

  eleven

  Abe shifted and gave his fullest attention to his hat, which he was twisting in his hands.

  The soft kissing noises between Pete and Arabella never failed to embarrass him—or to drive the temperature of his body to unbearable levels. He liked to blame the heat of the three brick ovens set into the outer wall. After hours of being heated by coals, the ovens reached temperatures hot enough to bake dozens of quartern loaves as well as rolls, which Pete, his father, and his assistants prepared every night.

  Now, at the break of day, Pete’s young assistant was finishing up the work of delivering the loaves and rolls while Pete cleaned up the bakeshop. Although the other workers had already left and were likely abed, Pete usually lingered until Arabella came down to begin baking cakes.

  Abe had hoped to find Pete alone, but he’d walked in only to find the two locked in an embrace. He cleared his throat.

  “Ten more minutes, Pastor Abe,” Pete said between kisses. “Can you give me ten minutes with my wife?”

  “Peter Kelly,” Arabella said breathlessly as she slipped out of his grasp. “I am surely worth more than ten minutes of your time.”

  “You’re worth an entire day.” Pete lunged after her.

  Laughing, she grabbed a baking pan and held it between them. Her eyes sparkled with love and desire and contentment.

  Again, Abe dropped his gaze to his hat, and he smiled at the memory of his banter with Zoe from earlier when he’d put on his shirt in place of his trousers. He’d never laughed like that with anyone else. Certainly not with Lizzy. In fact, he was sure Lizzy would have been mortified if she’d been in Zoe’s place and probably would have ignored him until he’d straightened himself out. And then she would have pretended the incident never happened.

  Not so with Zoe. She’d made him feel as though he’d won a prize for making her laugh. And she’d come right over and helped him without any hesitation.

  “Just one more kiss,” Pete pleaded.

  Arabella laughed softly. Abe glanced up in time to see her lean in a
nd accept another kiss.

  All he could think about was Zoe and how much he wanted to kiss one of her smiles—those smiles that lit up her eyes and made them irresistible.

  Pete’s eyes opened, and he caught Abe watching them.

  Abe dropped his attention to a small mound of flour on the floor, but not before he saw Pete’s lips curl into a devilish grin.

  “You need to get yourself a wife. And soon.”

  “About that . . .” Abe said.

  Pete stilled. “About what?”

  “About getting a wife . . .” After leaving his cabin, Abe had decided it was too early to visit the bishop. So he’d headed over to the bakeshop. Usually Pete was the one asking him for advice and needing the rescuing, but this time, Abe desperately needed to talk with someone.

  “You finally wrote and invited Lizzy to come?” Pete asked.

  Abe wished there were a way to retract that letter he’d sent to Lizzy last autumn. She would surely think him pathetic once she got it. “Actually, I received a letter from Lizzy yesterday—”

  “And she said she misses you so much that she’s coming regardless of how you feel?”

  “No—”

  “Then she’s demanding you return home?”

  The anguish Abe had been trying to hold at bay returned with full force, barreling into him so that he slouched inside his coat. “She fell in love and married someone else.”

  The bakeshop turned suddenly silent, magnifying the clopping of a passing horse and carriage.

  “I’m sorry,” Pete started.

  “I got married last night.” Abe blurted the words before he lost his courage.

  Again silence descended so that the thumping of footsteps in the overhead living quarters echoed around them.

  Abe couldn’t look his friend in the eyes. He didn’t want to see the censure sure to be there. He stared instead at the misshapen brim of his hat.

  “Married?” Pete found his voice, and it was laced with humor. “You’re serious?”

  Abe didn’t find any humor in the situation. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  Pete studied his face, his eyes widening, until a smile broke free. “You’re married.”

  “Yes.”

  Pete crossed to him, slapped his back, and enveloped him in a hug. “Congratulations, my friend. It’s past time.”

  How could Pete so easily accept the news and congratulate him without knowing any of the details? Surely if his friend knew more about the circumstances, he’d show some concern.

  “After remaining celibate for so many years, it’s no wonder you were in a hurry.” Pete pulled back with a laugh. Arabella chastised Pete under her breath for his ribald comment even as Abe felt his ears turning hot and red.

  “Can’t believe you’re up early this morn and out of bed.” Pete’s grin spread wider. “With Arabella, I couldn’t bear to—”

  Arabella snapped a towel at him and gave him a mortified and pleading look.

  Pete’s gaze softened into an apology.

  Abe used the opening to get to the point of his visit. “I think the marriage was a mistake.”

  His friend’s attention shifted to him again, and this time all humor disappeared. Abe relayed the events from meeting Zoe and their working together to care for Violet to Herman Cox’s death and the unexpected arrival of Lizzy’s letter last night.

  “I wasn’t in the right frame of mind,” Abe said. “I actually don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to the marriage.”

  “If she’s willing to help an orphan, then she sounds like a perfect woman to me.” Pete winked at Arabella.

  “She does sound positively kind and compassionate,” Arabella added. “Especially if she’s agreeable to caring for an infant. ’Tis surely no easy task she’s taken on.”

  “I have no question regarding her compassion,” Abe said. “She’s most certainly kind and sweet and caring.”

  Pete’s brows lifted. “If you like her, then what’s the problem?”

  Abe honestly didn’t know what the problem was—except that Zoe wasn’t Lizzy.

  “Oh, I see.” Pete scrutinized Abe’s face. “You’re not attracted to her.”

  Abe hesitated. How could any man not be attracted to Zoe? She was a ravishing beauty. He had only to think of how she’d looked this morning, sitting in the chair, trying not to watch him groom himself. Even with her wrapped in the blanket he’d insisted she use, he’d been intensely aware she was attired in only a nightgown. The few times he’d caught her looking at him, her eyes had been wide with a curiosity that only made him want to sit down and spend more time with her.

  “Mayhap Arabella can give her some beauty tips,” Pete suggested.

  “It’s not that. She’s actually the loveliest woman I’ve ever met.” It was the truth. But he couldn’t base the marriage on physical attraction, could he? He’d counseled many men not to make intimacy the foundation of a relationship. There needed to be much more, including friendship, shared goals and interests, and a common faith in the Lord.

  “It’s clear you’re already smitten.” Pete clamped his arm.

  “I barely know her.”

  “You like her. Otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to marry her.”

  “I didn’t jump.”

  “You leapt.” Pete’s grin was playful. And infectious.

  Abe smiled in return. “So you don’t think I should get the marriage annulled?”

  “Annulled? Absolutely not.” Even though Pete’s smile remained in place, his words took on a serious undertone. “Honor the commitment you made before God. You married her. You told her you’d love and cherish her until death. And now you need to follow through.”

  The words drove into Abe like a spike into stone, shattering his last resistance. Pete was right. He’d taken vows before God. He couldn’t set aside those vows just because he’d woken up in the morning scared and uncertain.

  No, whether for good or bad, he’d spoken binding words to Zoe. What was done was done, and he needed to accept it. He had to move forward with his choice.

  “Thank you for your advice,” Abe said. “You’re right. I need to honor my marriage commitment.”

  “You’re the wisest man I know, Pastor Abe.” Pete began to untie his apron, which was coated with flour. “I have no doubt you’ll figure this all out in a way that pleases God.”

  Abe prayed Pete was right. After leaving the Lord out of his planning last night and muddling things, he had to involve the Almighty moving forward.

  Abe started toward the door. He was married. He was staying married. And now he needed to let Zoe know. She’d obviously sensed his confusion this morning, which hadn’t been fair to her.

  “Bring your wife by.” Pete followed him, unwinding the long apron strings that wrapped around his waist. “Then I can tell her everything she’ll have to put up with.”

  “She will indeed have to put up with a sinful man.”

  Pete socked Abe in the arm. “I’m only teasing. You’re a good man, and she’s blessed to have you.”

  “I know nothing about how to behave around her. She likely already thinks I’m an imbecile.” His thoughts returned to the shirt incident.

  “You need to woo her.”

  “Woo her?”

  “Do things that will make her fall in love with you, just like I did with Arabella.”

  “Isn’t it enough to provide for the needs of her and the baby?”

  “Mayhap”—Pete’s voice dripped with sarcasm—“if you were her father.”

  Abe paused at the door and squirmed at the notion of attempting to make Zoe fall in love with him. He wasn’t a man given to the outward displays Pete relished. The closest he’d ever gotten to being romantic with Lizzy was copying a line of poetry from a book. He couldn’t imagine Zoe wanting him to spout poetry. “What kinds of things should I do?”

  “Spend time getting to know her. Find out what she likes. Be charming like me.”

  Arabella
gave an unladylike snort as she cracked eggs into a mixing bowl.

  “Admit it,” Pete called to her. “You fell in love with me because of my looks and charm.”

  She tossed the eggshells into a wooden bucket at her feet. “I fell in love with you because you saw me the way no one else ever has—as a valuable woman.”

  “And because of my charm.”

  Abe opened the door and stepped outside, relishing the nip of cool morning air against his overheated cheeks.

  “Well, if it isn’t Holy Man, the wife stealer” came a voice from Abe’s left. Before he could make sense of the comment, a fist pummeled into his cheek with a smack that sent him reeling backward. Pain clouded his vision, and he might have fallen except that Pete steadied him.

  The attacker swung again.

  “Hey!” Pete released Abe and blocked the hit. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Abe grabbed Pete’s shirt and yanked him out of the fray, blinking hard to regain his vision and see through the pain. But Pete broke free with both arms swinging, connecting first with the stomach and then nose of none other than Dexter Dawson.

  Two of Dex’s friends stepped out of the shadows of the nearby public bathhouse and began to cross over, hands on the pistols holstered at their belts.

  Abe had seen too much violence in the mining camps to allow the fight to continue. He and Pete could very well end up dead, or at least injured. Steeling himself, he grabbed Pete again and hauled him away from Dex. “Hold on now. Let’s solve our differences peacefully.”

  Pete’s shoulders rippled, but thankfully he didn’t attempt to go after Dex again. Rather, the two stared at each other, their eyes shooting anger.

  “What’s going on?” Abe winced at the throbbing in the side of his face.

  “You stole my wife.”

  “Zoe?” Abe’s question came out in a puff of white against the chill of the air.

  “I told her to meet me at the church last night at seven. When I got there, the reverend said I was too late—that she’d married you.”