Twice Blessed

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Twice Blessed Page 18

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  “It brings bad luck.”

  She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I think, after that flood, we’ve had enough bad luck to last a lifetime.”

  “I agree.” He released her hand and stopped.

  When she turned to face him, he dropped to one knee and clasped her hand between his. Her fingers trembled as she gazed down into his upturned face. Maybe he was just jesting with her. Maybe …

  “Emma, will you marry me?” he asked quietly. “I’ve been thinking of asking you for some time now, but the time never seemed right.” He smiled. “Too many children and other folks around. When you caught the bouquet, it seemed the time was perfect to ask you, because tradition deems you should be the next one married.”

  She drew her hand out of his. “This is a surprise.”

  “Why? I thought you understood after what we shared the night of the barn raising that I intended to ask you to marry me.” He chuckled. “I would have asked you that night, but I seemed to have my mind—and my mouth—on other things.”

  “But it’s still a surprise to be asked now, Noah.”

  He clasped her hands again. “So will you marry me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His smile vanished as he stood. “Now I’m surprised. That isn’t the answer I’d thought you’d give. I thought you’d say yes and feared you’d say no.”

  “But that answer is the truth.” Now she was not being completely honest. She did want to marry him. She wanted it with all her heart. If she could be certain her past would never catch up with her, she would have thrown her arms around his shoulders as she told him that yes, oh, yes, she wanted to be his wife.

  “Is it because of Belinda?”

  “Belinda?” she gasped. “What does Belinda have to do with this?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think she has anything to do with your reluctance, but I’m grasping at straws here, sweetheart. I know you love me.”

  “You do?”

  Even in the starlight, she could see his eyes twinkling as he caressed her face and said, “Yes, I do. What I don’t know is why you won’t marry me when you love me.” He grasped her shoulders as his mouth found hers with ease through the darkness.

  She clung to him as if she feared the river would overflow its banks and sweep her away from him. The dark and cold torrent of her past, more vicious and unforgiving than a flood, could tear them apart.

  As his kiss deepened, she let her thoughts drift away on the waves of pleasure that surged over her. She ran her fingers up his strong chest, then beneath his coat to stroke his back as he pulled her even closer. Her breath was ragged when he lifted his lips away.

  “Tell me,” he said, “why you can kiss me like that and don’t want to become my wife.”

  “Have you mentioned anything to Belinda about this?”

  He frowned. “I thought you said she had nothing to do with your hesitation.”

  “She doesn’t.” She dampened her lips before saying, “But you should be sure she won’t resent that you’re asking someone to replace her mother.”

  “Belinda does not remember her mother.”

  “I didn’t realize …”

  “Her mother was killed in a fire.” He closed his eyes. His breath sifted out of him in a long, slow sigh. “I was able to save only Belinda.”

  “The scars on your leg!”

  “From that fire. If not for the need to take care of Belinda, who was little more than a newborn, I don’t know how I would have survived the guilt and the grief of not being able to save the others in the house, too.”

  “Noah, I had no idea.”

  He seized her shoulders as his voice became urgent again. “Sweetheart, that’s all in the past. I’ve come to terms with the guilt, and I’ve learned that the grief will be a part of me forever.” His fingers tightened on her, and she saw strong emotions stiffening his face. “That’s the past, Emma. I want to have a future here in Haven, and I want you to be part of that future.”

  “It isn’t that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t explain.”

  “Can’t?” His hands dropped away from her shoulders. “Why not, Emma?”

  “There are so many things to consider.”

  “If you’re worried about Sean, I’ve already spoken with him, and he’s given his blessing.”

  “Because he wants to attend another wedding and the party afterward.”

  “Whatever the reason, he’s agreeable to this.”

  She nodded. “I know, for we spoke about this very subject just before he went off to bed tonight.” Looking up at him, she whispered, “We spoke of families and how families are created.”

  Noah’s smile returned. “So if he’s willing, why aren’t you?” His lips pressed against her neck, eliciting another quiver of longing from her. “And you are so willing, sweetheart.”

  “The store—”

  His curse echoed across the water. “Emma, if you don’t want to marry me, all you have to do is say so.”

  She closed her eyes and again imagined herself in his arms as she gave him a breathless yes to his proposal. “I can’t say I don’t want to marry you.”

  “But?”

  “Please give me some time to consider your proposal.”

  “Time?” He jerked her back into his arms so fast that she would have lost her footing if he had not pressed her to his chest.

  His mouth on hers was not gentle, for his kiss revealed his unsated desire for her. He released her, and she wobbled. His hand beneath her elbow steadied her.

  “I don’t want to wait any longer to have you with me every night,” he said. “Why do you want to waste time arguing about this when you must know I love you?”

  “You love me?” she whispered, as her heartbeat thudded in her ears.

  “Why else would I ask you to be my wife?”

  Again she closed her eyes. The answer to his question burned in her mind, an answer that demanded she speak it because she wanted to be forthright with him. But how could she tell this honest man how her first husband had married her simply because she gave him respectability in their small town and the opportunity to rob nearby banks? Would he change his mind because she had been so stupid? She did not want to believe that, but she had seen those she had thought would be friends all her life turn their backs on her when they accepted as the truth the malicious tales about her.

  Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him. He was not Miles Cooper. He was Noah Sawyer, a good and gentle man who had asked her to marry him because he loved her.

  She loved him, too. She loved him with all her being, and she wanted to spend every night with him and every day and all the years they could have together.

  Seven years had passed since she escaped the hangman’s noose in Kansas. For seven years, she had lived here in Haven, where she had built a new life. Seven long years, and there had been no hint anyone was still in pursuit of her. Seven years during which she had visited Lewis Parker’s sheriff’s office in the courthouse regularly and had seen the wanted posters on his wall. Although she knew there had been one describing her, for she had seen it posted in St. Louis, she had never seen such a wanted poster in Haven.

  Seven years of her life had been lost to that one horrible incident in her past. How much more was she going to sacrifice to her past? This love had come into her life when she had least expected it, and she would be a fool to toss it aside. Noah had said he had learned to put his past in the past. He could help her do the same while she reveled in his love.

  Putting her hands up on either side of his face, she murmured, “Yes, Noah.”

  “Yes?” His eyes widened as if he could not believe what he had just heard. “Yes? You’ll marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I should ask you why you changed your mind, but I don’t care.” He kissed her lightly. “All I care is that you’re going to be my wife.”

  As she welcomed his kiss, she hoped that was all she would care about from
this point forward, too.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sean was not the only who thought it was a shame for Emma to agree with Noah that their wedding should not be a grand one like the one just celebrated on the green. As soon as Alice Underhill heard how Emma and Noah planned simply to say their vows in front of Reverend Faulkner and two witnesses, the schoolteacher stormed into the store.

  Emma smiled at her friend, but finished figuring out Mrs. Randolph’s bill at the counter. When Alice continued to frown, Emma sighed. She had heard Reverend Faulkner greet her friend outside on the porch, and she knew Alice must be upset with the quiet wedding she had planned.

  “Yes, Mrs. Randolph,” Emma said automatically, for she had repeated the same words every day for the last two weeks, “it’s too bad that you haven’t heard back on your letter from Washington, D.C. It does take a while for mail to get from here to there and back.”

  “Has the mail been delivered today?” the old woman asked, tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter. She reached into a nearby jar and pulled out a handful of peppermints and set them on the counter. Mrs. Randolph only ate sweets when she was greatly perturbed.

  “The mail came in this morning, and it’s all sorted.” She put her hand on the envelope in her apron pocket. The return address was the Children’s Aid Society. Although she wanted to read it, she had not had a chance. It seemed as if everyone in Haven had schemed to keep her from reading it. Mornings when the mail arrived were always the busiest at the store. Usually that pleased Emma, but not today.

  With a start, she realized she could not remember the last time she had received a personal letter. She had thought so often of sending a letter to her sister and brother, for she longed to know how they fared and how their lives had unfolded for the past seven years. Even more, she wanted to ask them one simple question: Did they believe she was guilty, as so many others had?

  “Hmph! I’d think those men in Washington, DC, would know the importance of getting back to me speedily.” Mrs. Randolph picked up her purchases and went out of the store, mumbling to herself.

  Emma came around the counter. “Alice, will you watch to make sure Mrs. Randolph goes to her house and no farther?”

  “Emma, we need to talk.” Alice folded her arms in front of her black blouse, which was dusted with chalk from the schoolroom. “Right away.”

  Pulling out the letter from her pocket, Emma said, “I’ve been waiting all day to see if this the news we’ve been hoping for about Sean’s sister. Please watch Mrs. Randolph while I put the pot on the stove and read my letter. Then we can enjoy a nice cup of tea.”

  “Very well.” Alice’s frown did not lessen, but she went to the door to watch that the old lady went safely along the street.

  Emma set the cast iron kettle on the stove and sat in the rocking chair in front of it. Her fingers trembled as she stared at the letter. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and read the single page.

  My dear Miss Delancy,

  We are in receipt of your letter requesting information about Maeve O’Dell. First of all, let me say that I am speaking on behalf of the whole Children’s Aid Society when I write that we are so pleased to hear of how well Sean O’Dell has adjusted to his new life.

  At this time, we have no information on his younger sister. We have workers in the area where Sean reported he had last seen his sister. They will continue to make inquiries about a six-year-old girl with that name, and this office will check with orphanages and other children’s asylums here in the city, but you must understand how difficult it is to find a single child in such a populous area as New York City.

  Please be assured and please assure Sean that we are making all efforts to find the child. We know it is not easy to be patient when you are so concerned for both Maeve and Sean O’Dell, but that is the only counsel I can offer at this point. I will be sure to contact you immediately if we find the child.

  It was signed with Mr. Barrett’s scrawling signature. With a sigh, Emma lowered the page to her lap. She must find a way to tell Sean without breaking his heart or destroying his hopes.

  “Is it bad news, Emma?” asked Alice as she sat on the bench facing the rocking chair. “You look so sad.”

  Emma folded the letter. “In spite of my hopes for a quick miracle, the Children’s Aid Society hasn’t yet discovered the whereabouts of Sean’s sister.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “We must continue to hope.” She stuffed the letter into her pocket. Her fingers lingered over it as if she still dared to believe that if she reread the letter it would now contain the news that she had yearned to hear.

  “Will you tell him?” Alice asked.

  “Of course! Why would I keep this from him? She is his sister.”

  The schoolteacher pyramided her fingers before her face in a pensive pose, then said, “Maybe you shouldn’t tell him just now. Sean is finally beginning to find friends beyond those who came with him to Haven on the train. He’s concentrating on his reading and his ciphering, and he’s proving to be a child with a rare intelligence.”

  “I’m glad to hear this, but what does it have to do with telling him the truth?”

  “He’s settling in here. He has found a home with you, and he’s becoming comfortable with the folks here.” She glanced toward the door. “Especially with Jenny Anderson, who has been helping him with his spelling.”

  “Sean has quite the case of puppy love for the girl.” Emma smiled. “I think it’s because she can hit a baseball as far as he can.”

  “So let him enjoy this time, Emma. Let him continue to hope.”

  “He asks me every day as soon as he comes in the door if a letter has come from the Children’s Aid Society. I can’t lie to him.”

  Alice sighed and shook her head. “I understand, but you must realize that such a blow may threaten to sever every root he has put down in Haven. Those roots are still very shallow.”

  Coming to her feet, Emma poured two cups of tea and handed one to Alice. “I know that. I also know I must be truthful with him about this.”

  “So you believe honesty is always the best policy?”

  “Yes.” She hoped her friend had not taken note of how Emma’s voice squeaked on that single word. Honesty was the best policy, but not always possible.

  “Then let me be honest with you, Emma Delancy.”

  Emma’s smile returned. She recognized Alice’s tone. It was the one her friend always assumed when she believed Emma needed to heed an important lesson Alice was about to teach her. Sitting again in the rocker, she took a sip of her tea before saying, “Please do be honest with me, Alice Underhill.”

  “You are making a huge mistake with your wedding plans. Why aren’t you having a grand wedding like Sally and Isaac Smith had?”

  Setting her cup on the table that held a checkerboard, she counted on her fingers. “First, we have to consider the time of year. It’s time for planting. Folks can’t afford to take another whole day off. Second, I decided this would be best, because Noah is a widower, as you know. This is a second wedding for him.”

  “But not for you! A first-time bride’s wedding day is supposed to be one she will remember all her life.”

  “I will remember it.” Her smile tasted hypocritical, but she was speaking the truth now. She never would forget the day she had been stupid enough to repeat her vows to love, honor, cherish, and obey Miles Cooper for the rest of her life. “Third, Alice, I don’t want to put you through the ignominy of having to stand there and wait for the bouquet to come to you.”

  “Well, there is that.” Alice smiled. “But you could throw it to someone else.”

  “It would come directly to you. I can guarantee that.” Rocking in the chair, she said, “I saw how you and Barry Hahn were very cozy after the most recent Grange meeting.”

  Color rose up her friend’s face. “He’s a very nice man, and he’s willing to wait to make his intentions known until after the school year and the end-of-the-year ex
ercises come to a close.”

  “So you two have plans?”

  “For a big wedding later this summer. Just as you should have.”

  Emma shook her head. “This sort of wedding is what Noah and I want. Will you stand up with me, Alice?”

  “I thought you’d never get around to asking me!” She put down her cup and grasped Emma’s hands. “I could not have endured not being there to see you married.”

  “Nor could I,” came a deeper voice from the doorway.

  Emma smiled at Noah as she came to her feet and met him as he walked across the store toward her. When he held out his hand, she put hers in it. She drew it back and shook off the sawdust that had been clinging to his palm.

  “Sorry,” he said with a smile. “I thought I’d knocked that all off before I came into town to find out if that new saw I had ordered was in.”

  “Not on today’s train.” She brushed more sawdust from his ruddy hair.

  He ran a single finger along her cheek. “Then I guess I shall just have to keep calling here every day until it does arrive.”

  “And then you’ll stop calling?”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  She laughed as she turned to include Alice in the conversation. “I just asked Alice to be my maid of honor. You need to look for a best man, you know.”

  “Egad, I thought this was going to be simple.” He rolled his eyes and smiled when Alice laughed.

  “Two witnesses.” She held up two fingers. “That’s the way it’s done.”

  “So I understand. Don’t worry. I think I can convince Anderson to stand up with us. He can steal a few minutes away from the livery and smithy for the ceremony.”

  Alice exploded, “A few minutes? Noah Sawyer, this is an important day for Emma.”

  “And for me, too, I assume.” He winked at Emma.

  “But a wedding is the bride’s day.” Alice wagged a finger at him as if he were one of her mischievous students. “If you won’t have a big wedding, then the very least you can do is allow us to give you a party at the next Grange meeting.”

  “And when is that?” he asked.

  “When are you getting married?” Alice returned.

 

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