The 12 Brides of Summer Novella Collection #2

by Mary Connealy

  Once inside, Gideon sat back, watching the two women. He no longer harbored any doubts about Naomi’s ability to carry off the charade. She kept Mother entertained with anecdotes of how Cheyenne had grown and changed over the past few years, while Mother interjected her own stories of life in the East, leaving Gideon no need to do more than murmur an occasional assent. The day was turning out even better than he’d hoped.

  “You’ve done well for yourself,” his mother said at supper that evening. “Naomi is exactly the kind of woman I hoped you’d marry. I’m proud of you, Gideon.”

  He swallowed in a vain attempt to dislodge the lump that had taken residence in his throat. He’d wanted Mother’s approval, but oh, how he wished it were not based on a sham.

  Chapter 5

  Let me feel the fabric.”

  Naomi bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry. Here she was, dressing for dinner with Gideon and his mother at Cheyenne’s most prestigious hotel, wearing the most beautiful gown she’d ever owned, and her mother could barely see it. Though neither of them discussed it, Naomi knew that Ma’s eyesight was worsening. That was why she wanted to touch the fabric.

  “Madame Charlotte told me it’s dupioni silk that came all the way from China,” Naomi said as she placed a fold of the sumptuous material in her mother’s hands. By some small miracle, her voice bore no hint of the worry that weighed so heavily over her. If she’d had any doubt that her agreement with Gideon was the right thing to do, watching Ma’s vision fail would have erased it. Naomi had to do whatever she could to restore her mother’s sight.

  Ma gave her a bittersweet smile as she stroked the sapphire blue silk. “It must be wonderful to sew with fabric like this. Of course,” she said with a chuckle, “my customers had nowhere to wear anything so fine. Now turn around so I can see that demi-train you’ve been telling me about.”

  When Ma had admired the drape of the gown, she sighed softly. “I wish I could see Madame Charlotte’s store. All those beautiful fabrics and the dresses. . .”

  That wish was easy to grant. “I’ll take you there on Monday. I’m sure she’d be happy to show you around.”

  But Ma shook her head. “I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right to take her time when I have no intention of buying anything from her.” Ma’s expression brightened at the sound of a knock on the door. “You just enjoy your evening. I expect you to tell me every detail.”

  As Naomi ushered Gideon into the apartment, he gave her an appreciative look and grinned. “I’ll be the envy of every man in Cheyenne when I walk into the InterOcean with the most beautiful woman in all of Wyoming Territory on my arm.”

  Though his compliment made her flush with pleasure, Naomi couldn’t accept it. “It’s the gown. Madame Charlotte’s creations flatter everyone.”

  “It’s not the gown,” Gideon said firmly. “Remember, I’ve seen you in your work clothes. You were just as fetching then.”

  The light flush turned into a full-fledged blush. “Are you trying to turn my head?”

  He shook his head. “I’m simply telling the truth. Now, if you’re ready. . .” He led her outside and helped her into the carriage where his mother was waiting.

  “That’s a lovely gown, Naomi. Did you order it from Paris?”

  Naomi smiled at Mrs. Carlisle. Though they hadn’t discussed what they’d be wearing tonight, Gideon’s mother had donned a light blue silk gown that complimented Naomi’s sapphire blue. “It’s not from Paris. There’s a wonderful dressmaker right here.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  Gideon chuckled as he flicked the reins. “Admit it, Mother. Almost everything about Cheyenne surprises you.” He turned and gave Naomi a rueful smile. “Despite the letters I’ve written her, until she arrived here my mother believed everyone lived in tents and had a steady diet of pork and beans.”

  “I don’t imagine that’s on the menu at the InterOcean.”

  It wasn’t. With its linen tablecloths, fine china, and silverware, the InterOcean’s dining room lived up to its reputation as Cheyenne’s most elegant eating establishment. The food was equally good, the menu featuring elk, venison, and trout in addition to a wide selection of beef dishes. Succulent vegetables and breads almost as delicious as Esther’s made it an unforgettable meal, while the array of desserts surpassed anything Naomi had seen.

  “You were right, Gideon,” Mrs. Carlisle said as they savored the delicate crème brûlée they’d chosen to end the meal. “Cheyenne is not what I expected. It appears to be a fine place to raise a family.”

  She turned to Naomi. “Won’t you tell me about your family? Do your parents live in Cheyenne? How many siblings do you have? Just call me a nosy old woman, but I want to know more about the woman who’s going to marry my son.”

  Though the questions were far from intrusive, Naomi was uncomfortable with them, simply because she and Gideon hadn’t discussed how to address the issue of her mother. Deciding that her only recourse was honesty, she said, “My father died five years ago, and I’m an only child.”

  Mrs. Carlisle took another sip of her tea. “That sounds as if your mother is still alive. Does she live in Cheyenne?” When Naomi nodded, Gideon’s mother’s face brightened. “Wonderful! I’d like to meet her.”

  They hadn’t planned for this. Naomi shot Gideon a look, but his expression was inscrutable. She was on her own here. “My mother’s eyesight is failing, and she rarely leaves our home.”

  “Surely she’ll make an exception for me.” Mrs. Carlisle turned to Gideon, the firm line of her lips confirming Gideon’s statement that his mother was a determined woman. “Do your best, son, to persuade Mrs. Towson. I’d like the four of us to celebrate the Fourth of July together.”

  Gideon nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

  Though Naomi saw regret in her mother’s eyes, her voice was firm as she said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Carlisle, but I don’t believe that would be a good idea. I bump into things in unfamiliar places. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “I assure you, you wouldn’t embarrass anyone. My mother is genuine in her wish to spend time with you.”

  Naomi bit back a smile at the evidence of Gideon’s determination. If she were a betting woman, she would wager that Ma would capitulate.

  Ma was not smiling as she plucked at her skirt. “It shames me to admit this, but I have nothing appropriate to wear to the Cheyenne Club.”

  Gideon had explained that the plans for the Fourth of July celebration included attending the parade and then dining at the private club where he and many of Cheyenne’s wealthiest businessmen were members.

  “Madame Charlotte can remedy that,” he said smoothly.

  Ma shook her head. “You know our situation.” Though she didn’t say “financial situation,” the implication was clear.

  Gideon would not be dissuaded. “I shall, of course, pay for your clothing as I did for Naomi’s.”

  “That would not be proper.” Ma had questioned the propriety of Gideon’s buying Naomi’s fancy clothing but had ultimately agreed that as long as no one other than Gideon and Madame Charlotte knew, it would not compromise Naomi’s reputation.

  “Surely a man is permitted to give his future mother-in-law a gift.”

  “But she’s not your future mother-in-law.” Though she’d been silent during the exchange, believing it was between Gideon and her mother, Naomi couldn’t help interjecting her protest.

  His eyes were serious as he said, “In the eyes of the world, she is.” Turning to Ma, he continued his argument. “If you agree, you’d be making my mother very happy and giving Madame Charlotte additional income. Are you willing to deprive them?”

  Though Ma hesitated, Naomi knew her mother was on the verge of agreeing. “All right, Mr. Carlisle.”

  “Gideon,” he said firmly. “I insist you call me Gideon.”

  “All right, Gideon. I accept.”

  After she’d escorted Gideon to the door, Naomi turned to her mother. “Do you know
what just happened?” Without giving Ma a chance to reply, she said, “Gideon made your wish come true. Now you have a reason to visit Élan.”

  “They’re thick as thieves.” Gideon gestured toward the two mothers who’d been talking practically nonstop since they emerged from church. This was the first time the women had met, and though Gideon had had fewer concerns than Naomi, he was still grateful that Mother had taken an immediate liking to Mrs. Carlisle. Despite the concerns she’d voiced about her vision, he had not noticed any hesitation when Naomi’s mother walked into church, nor had she bumped into anything—or anyone—when they’d been at the parade.

  Since the Fourth of July fell on a Sunday this year, the schedule had been altered slightly, with the parade delayed until noon to ensure that it did not conflict with worship. When the church service had ended, Gideon had taken the three women back to his house for what Preble termed a light repast, and from then on, his mother and Naomi’s had acted more like long-lost friends than new acquaintances.

  Gideon wasn’t complaining. Far from it, for the older women’s absorption in their own conversation meant that he could devote all of his attention to Naomi.

  She was more beautiful than ever today, with that lovely dark hair arranged in some kind of intricate style. He wasn’t sure how a woman would describe the dress she was wearing; all he knew was that it showcased her beauty. His heart had swelled with pride as he’d stood at her side during the parade, watching the marching bands, the school children, and the politicians make their way through the city streets. And now they were seated on the porch of the Cheyenne Club, waiting for dinner to be served.

  “I haven’t seen Ma this excited in years.” Naomi kept her voice low, though Gideon doubted that either of their mothers would have overheard her.

  “I could say the same thing about my mother.” She’d been content before, but today she was almost radiant with happiness. “Her visit is working out even better than I’d expected, and it’s all because of you.” Gideon leaned over and placed his hand on top of Naomi’s. “Thank you, Naomi. This is turning into the best summer I can remember.”

  How he hated the thought that it would end.

  Chapter 6

  The aroma of bacon greeted Gideon as he descended the stairs, leading him into the dining room where he found his mother seated with a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of her.

  “Good morning, Mother,” he said, wondering why she was downstairs half an hour earlier than normal. His mother was a creature of habit, and once she established a schedule, she rarely deviated from it.

  She smiled and gestured toward his chair at the head of the table. “Indeed, it is a good morning.” When he was seated and had poured himself a cup of coffee, she spoke again. “You were right when you told me I’d like Cheyenne. I do. So much, in fact, that I’ve decided to spend the whole summer here.” She glanced at the door leading to the butler’s pantry, as if expecting it to open. “Preble told me it’s unusual to have snow before October, so I shall plan to leave on October 1.”

  Mother was staying? Gideon stared at her, realizing he hadn’t been this shocked since the day he’d received her letter announcing her plans to come to Cheyenne to meet his bride-to-be. What was he going to do now? Mother was supposed to be here for two weeks, not more than three months.

  Count your blessings. Gideon could practically hear his mother’s admonition, and so he followed it. At least she hadn’t decided to remain until the wedding. He’d be in a real pickle if she did that.

  “Aren’t you going to say something, son?” Mother wielded her knife and fork, cutting a slice of bacon into precise bite-sized pieces. As she slid one into her mouth, she lifted an eyebrow in a gesture Gideon knew meant that her patience was fading.

  “I’m surprised.” He wouldn’t admit that he was shocked. “I thought you couldn’t leave the Ladies Aid Society for more than a few weeks.”

  Mother’s hand fluttered in a dismissive wave. “Nonsense. Gertrude Menger will do an excellent job leading them. She’s been hoping for an opportunity to make some changes. This will be her chance.” When she’d stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her tea, Mother nodded. “I’ll send her a telegram today.”

  Gideon tried not to groan at the realization that this wasn’t a passing fancy and that he would never dissuade her.

  “What’s the matter, Gideon? Don’t you want me to stay?”

  “Of course I do.” It wasn’t a lie. He enjoyed having Mother here. It was simply that the pretend engagement complicated everything. “I’m concerned that I won’t be able to entertain you properly. I have to go out to the range this week. My foreman does a good job, but I need to check on him and the hands occasionally.”

  Mother’s smile brightened. “That won’t be a problem. I can spend the time helping Naomi and her mother plan the wedding.” As she spread jam on a piece of toast, Mother gave Gideon one of those “mother knows best” looks that he remembered from his youth. “I do wish you’d reconsider and have the wedding before I leave. Christmas Eve may seem romantic now, but there’s nothing like being a summer bride.”

  Unbidden, Gideon pictured Naomi carrying a bouquet of wildflowers, smiling as she walked down the aisle toward him. He caught his breath, startled by the intense longing that rushed through him. Though the idea was more appealing than any he could recall, now was not the time to regard marriage the way a drowning man did a life preserver. When he married—if he married—it would not be merely to placate his mother. But though he tried his best, Gideon was unable to dismiss the image of a wedding—a real one.

  “Gideon.” Naomi was startled by the sight of him entering the bakery kitchen. Ever since she’d begun the pretend engagement, though she no longer served customers in the front room, she spent her mornings in the kitchen, helping Esther mix and knead the breads and pastries that were the bakery’s mainstays. Never before had Gideon interrupted her.

  Naomi washed her hands and turned toward him. “Is something wrong?” she asked, unable to read his expression.

  When she’d seated herself, Gideon took a chair across from her at the table that served as both a work surface and a dining table for Esther and Jeremy. “I’m not sure. I hope not. How is your mother?”

  Something was definitely wrong, because Gideon didn’t normally dither. Naomi blinked at the non sequitur. “Ma’s fine. This morning she told me again how much she enjoyed yesterday.”

  “So did mine.” Gideon nodded, the corners of his mouth descending into a frown. “She enjoyed it so much that she’s decided to extend her visit.”

  While Gideon was visibly uneasy with the idea, the jolt of happiness that spread its warmth throughout her shocked Naomi. Her heart sang at the realization that if Mrs. Carlisle remained in Cheyenne, Naomi would have a reason to continue spending time with Gideon. It was foolish—oh, so foolish—to care, and yet she did.

  “How long does she plan to be here?” Naomi asked as calmly as she could.

  “Until October first.” Gideon’s increasing discomfort told Naomi she was the only one who rejoiced in the prospect of more time together.

  He leaned forward slightly, placing his forearms on the table. “I hope you’ll agree to extend our arrangement. I know October is far later than we’d agreed, so I’ll do more than pay for your mother’s surgery. I’ll set up a bank account for you and will deposit the same amount as the surgeon’s fee into it now and then again in October when Mother leaves.” His tone was as flat as if this were a business arrangement. But, of course, that was exactly what it was.

  “No!” The word came out more forcefully than Naomi had intended. It hurt—oh, how it hurt—to be reminded that she was nothing more than an employee, even though that’s what she was. Naomi bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to cry out in frustration. Their agreement had been clear. It was only she who’d thought she and Gideon were friends, or maybe even something more.

  Gideon’s eyes darkened with shock, and his face registere
d disappointment. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you, Naomi. Tell me what it’ll take for you to agree.”

  “Nothing.” He’d misunderstood her protest and had no way of knowing that she’d been insulted by his offer of money. “You don’t owe me anything more. I agreed to be your pretend fiancée while your mother was here, and I will do that for however long she stays.”

  Unable to hide his relief, Gideon nodded then shook his head. “That doesn’t seem fair. I feel as if I owe—”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” Naomi cut him off. “You’ve already gone beyond our original arrangement by paying for my mother’s clothes. She and I will probably need a few more dresses if we’re to continue the charade until October. That will be enough.”

  But it wasn’t. Naomi wanted a real engagement followed by a real wedding followed by life with Gideon. Unfortunately, what she wanted could never be.

  Chapter 7

  Gideon tried not to fidget. These minutes before the service began were always difficult for him. He knew he was supposed to focus on God, but instead his thoughts were whirling in a dozen different directions, reminding him of tumbleweeds in a storm. When they landed, it was often on the woman at his side.

  Lowering his eyes, Gideon stared at the floor, trying to corral his thoughts. It had been more than a month since Mother had announced her extended stay. Though Gideon had been concerned by her insistence on helping with wedding plans, Naomi had managed to sidestep the issue, citing a reluctance to make any arrangements until after her mother’s surgery. That was a valid-sounding reason, and Mother had accepted it.

  She and Mrs. Towson had tea together every afternoon, talking endlessly. Gideon had no idea what they discussed and suspected he was better off not knowing. He wasn’t complaining, though, for the time the two mothers spent sipping tea was time he had with Naomi.

  The woman was amazing. His suppositions from before they’d begun their charade of an engagement had proven to be true. Each day found Gideon more fascinated by the woman who was pretending to be his fiancée. Naomi had a lively sense of humor and an open curiosity. She even seemed genuinely interested in his cattle. That made her the only woman he knew who could listen to stories about roundups and orphaned calves for more than a minute without her eyes glazing over.