Perfectly Mismatched (Sweethearts of Jubilee Springs Book 1)

by Linda Carroll-Bradd

  Biting her lip, she nodded. “But I brought along a book that is full of instructions.”

  “Ye’ve been raised with wealth.” He crossed his arms and squinted. “How in blue blazes, excuse me tongue, did ye figure ye’d be fit for a wife’s duties?”

  Pressing trembling lips together, she reached out a hand and stepped close.

  If she touched him, he’d be lost. So he moved away to keep an arm’s length between them. Careless rich people killed Moira, and ever since he’d had no love for the class.

  A shrug lifted both shoulders to her ears before dropping again. “I thought we’d both be new to marriage, and we’d learn together. I didn’t know you’d already been…” She sucked in a breath. “And that you’d have expec-expectations.”

  The last ended on a high-pitched wail before she turned away.

  “What’s that? A coyote?” Byron shouted from the surrey. “I’ll blast him.”

  Glaring in the man’s direction, Declan held out a staying hand. “Calm down, Latham. And keep your gun in your holster.” In the three steps needed to reach Aurelia, he remembered past arguments with Moira and how a soft tone had always helped. But he kept his hands at his sides. “Aurelia, I’m sorry for yelling.”

  She sniffled.

  “Ye surprised me, is all.”

  “This weekend is filled with them. Like I was surprised last night.” She turned and walked to the surrey, struggling to climb in on her own.

  “Ah, guess she ʼfessed up about not knowing how to cook and clean.” Latham shook his head. “That is not the type of bride I bargained for.”

  Declan stomped around the back of the surrey. “Shut up, Latham. This is between Aurelia and me.” He released the brake, eased the horses into a tight turn, and headed them downhill. “Aurelia, ‘the course of true love never did run smooth.’ Ye believe that, don’t ye?”

  Her back stiffened. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream, one of my favorites.” She gave him a shaky smile then gazed in the opposite direction.

  Ye fool. He hated seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes. He hated even more that he’d been the one to put them there. He hated the feeling this heart connection they’d made was slipping away. Thoughts raced through his head. If only he could get her alone, so they could talk without interference. But where to avoid compromising her reputation? The inn’s veranda? The boarding house porch? The church? He doubted it would be unlocked at this hour.

  Squinting, he gauged the position of the setting sun and figured the light would last for another three hours. The thirty-minute drive to town was spent in silence, although tension emanated from each passenger. Declan noticed Aurelia kept fingering the flowers in her lap—a small movement that gave him hope. As he steered the horses into position in front of the livery, he spotted a party of four climbing from another surrey. The two men and two women looked a lot happier than the people occupying this carriage.

  Aurelia waved. “Hi, Ellen and Gladys.” She cast a look over her shoulder. “Maybe I should ask them to wait so I might join them to walk back together.”

  “I invited ye for the ride, and I’ll be seeing ye home.” The words sounded rougher than he’d intended.

  Latham hopped out and stood at Aurelia’s side. He doffed his hat. “Glad to have met ya, Miss Aurelia. You might be a nice lady and all, but I like eatin’ too much to consider you as a suitable bride. G’night.” He turned and strode away, whistling.

  “I appreciate your honesty, Byron.” After several seconds, she slumped forward and covered her face with her hands, her shoulders hunching.

  Declan hesitated about touching her now that they were alone. “Ye all right?” He wrapped the reins tight then jumped down from the surrey. By the time he rounded the back, he saw she was sitting upright again.

  “What a huge relief.” Smiling, she held out her hand and climbed down. “That man and I had nothing in common. Even if by rights, he wasn’t matched to my handwriting. He shares no similar interests with Rilleta, either.”

  A tall, brown-haired man emerged from the shadows of the livery. “MacNeill, you’re back. Any troubles?”

  “Not with the carriage. Thanks, Johnny B.” Declan lifted a hand in farewell, scooted to Aurelia’s right side, and claimed her hand. “I got something to say, and I’d best do it while I have ye alone. Cooking and cleaning are not what’s important. Those tasks can be learned. Smart people figure how to do things.” He snapped his fingers and flashed a grin. “And ye were smart enough to bring along such a book.”

  “I did.” She looked up with shining eyes.

  He placed his finger against her soft lips, and the touch was like being branded clear to his soul. “Let me finish. True, I’ve loved before. I’d be a fool to deny the memories might surface now and again. But me heart is big and has room for more. Caring and devotion and working together make the foundation of a solid marriage. And honesty.”

  At the last word, her body stiffened, and she looked away.

  Why was she still holding back? The boarding house was just ahead. He held his tongue until he settled her in a rocker and pulled another across from her so he could be face to face. “I sense ye have another admission. What haven’t ye told me?”

  After setting aside the flowers, she leaned forward and grasped his hands. “Promise me, you won’t yell.”

  Never a good sign. He dipped a quick nod.

  “About five weeks ago, I watched my father and his boss get arrested.” She blinked fast and squeezed his hands. “And I’m afraid the sheriff is after me as a person of interest, or even an accomplice.” Her lower lip trembled. “That’s why I had to leave Kansas. And why I have to acquire a new name. I must make a new life.”

  A criminal? No, not his sweet Aurelia. “Start at the beginning and don’t leave out anything.” As she revealed more details about why she escaped her hometown and travelled to another state, he wondered at the weight of responsibility she’d carried. The listening was made easier by feeling her warm hands in his and rubbing his thumb over the ridge of her knuckles.

  Aurelia stopped talking and slumped back in her chair. “Now you know everything about me.”

  A bark of a laugh escaped, and he shook his head. “Not if I live to be ninety-five would I be believing that statement. But I’m glad ye shared yer secret. That shows trust.”

  “I do trust you, Declan.” Blinking fast, she smiled and cupped a palm on his cheek. “You make me feel safe.”

  Her words settled in that spot in his chest that had been empty for so long. “Miss Aurelia Northcliffe, I want to build a life with ye.” He clasped her hands and tugged her to the edge of her chair so he could gaze into her eyes. “We two have enough differences that our life will never be boring. We’ll need patience aplenty, but I see a loving future. Aurelia, would ye like to hang yer washing next to mine?”

  Scrunching her nose, she tilted her head. “Are you making a joke?”

  “’Tis another old Irish custom.” Easing back the chair a couple of inches, he lowered to one knee. “A chuisle mo chrá, will ye do me the great honor of becoming me wife?”

  Chapter Eight

  The evening air still held a hint of the day’s warmth, making Aurelia reluctant to move from the boarding house veranda. She tapped a foot on the wooden deck and set the rocker in motion. Enough time had passed since her acceptance of Declan’s proposal that her heart rate was back to normal. Soon, her new name would provide another layer of security, not to mention how safe she felt when in his presence. Marrying after an acquaintance of only two days’ duration would never have pleased her mother, but Aurelia had made the best decision under the circumstances. Choosing Declan would create the right match. Maybe not at the beginning, but once they became better acquainted.

  The screen door squeaked. “I’m surprised you’re still outside.” Clara stood in the doorway, a dish towel in one hand. “Do you need anything, miss?”

  Aurelia turned to look at the dark-haired woman. Her shoulders were h
unched, and a few strands of long hair had loosened from her single braid. Tiredness radiated from her posture. Aurelia straightened. This poor woman, co-owner of the boarding house, must work thirteen or fourteen hours. She hoped being a wife didn’t demand as much. “Your offer is kind, but you have done so much already today.” She pushed to a stand and dipped her chin as she walked into the house. “Good evening.”

  “Evening. See you at breakfast before your important day.”

  The reminder put a smile on Aurelia’s face, and she almost skipped up the stairs. As she walked down the hallway, she heard the buzz of conversation and high-pitched giggles. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one excited about what would come tomorrow. Once inside her room, she moved to the line of wall pegs where her gowns hung. She ran a finger along the garments that varied from pale to bold in color. When she’d packed for this trip, she’d envisioned wearing her pale yellow silk gown with the heart-shaped neckline trimmed in lace with cap sleeves. After being in Jubilee Springs, she realized the style would raise too many eyebrows. Holding out the skirts, she reviewed her choices.

  A conversation sprang to her mind of the first day in Colorado at the bridal agency. And how Andrea had only a gray dress. Guilt assaulted Aurelia as she looked again at the colorful garments on display—each stylish in its own way. Before she could second-guess herself, she plucked a gown from a peg, hurried down the hall, and knocked on a closed door.

  Footsteps preceded the door swinging open to reveal Andrea. “Evening, Aurelia.” The woman’s brows wrinkled over her gray eyes. She tugged a brush through her light brown hair.

  “Andrea, I want to offer you this dress for tomorrow’s wedding ceremony.”

  “What?” Her eyes shot wide, and she stepped backward.

  Aurelia crossed into the room and held out the gown. “I remembered what you said about having only your Sunday-best dress. And that it was gray.” She couldn’t stop from wrinkling her nose at the faded and worn dress she’d seen Andrea wear to church that morning. “Every bride deserves a special outfit, even if it’s borrowed.”

  “But…” Andrea glanced between the dress and Aurelia several times before she reached out a shaky hand. “It’s so pretty.”

  Aurelia held up the pale pink skirt with diagonal flounces edged in soft brown ruffles. “Actually, it’s a skirt with a matching jacket, but the style isn’t more than two years old. Papa commissioned it for our trip to—” She sucked in a breath at the memory of a happier time. “Never mind about that.”

  “May I?” Andrea held out both hands, staring at the garment.

  Aurelia passed over the jacket—mostly brown with an inset of pink tucked fabric that angled from the shoulder to the waist and tapered almost to a point at the middle of the front hem.

  The girl pressed the jacket to her chest and hold out a sleeve along one arm. Andrea scurried across the room and stood before the wood-framed mirror attached to the wall. “Oh, I can’t believe this.” Her smile spread as she touched the buttons running along the line between pink and brown fabrics. “I’ve never worn anything with so many fancy gewgaws.”

  Watching delight transform the thin woman’s face brought a mistiness to Aurelia’s eyes. She’d always taken what she owned for granted, but seeing Andrea’s sincere appreciation warmed her heart. Sniffling away her sentimentality, Aurelia straightened and walked close, holding up the skirt to Andrea’s waist. She centered the column of tucked pink fabric that ran the length of the front. “If the hem is too long, you can use a few safety pins so you won’t trip.”

  “Yes, I don’t want to drag the hem too much.” Andrea reached out a hand and clasped Aurelia’s. “Truly, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity. This dress will make my day very special. I’ll take good care of it.”

  Aurelia cleared her suddenly clogged throat. “You are welcome, Andrea.” Before the threatening tears filled her eyes, she spun and dashed for the door. “Sleep well. Good night.” When she pulled the door shut, she leaned her back against it for a moment and let out a sigh.

  *~*

  Awake with the first light of dawn, Aurelia decided to heat her own water for a bath on her special day. Declan was right about having the ability to learn tasks. Her book described the best way to build a wood fire, and she got the flames burning with no further help. Pride filled her senses. On one of the treks down the hallway, she heard whispers about Andrea having a visitor the previous evening who’d left unhappily after his proposal was rejected. Probably that happened to more than one couple this weekend. She was glad Byron had made his own decision. Funny, a week ago, she would have been upset about being rejected.

  As she bathed, she gazed at her chosen outfit—a deep purple, pin-tucked skirt topped by a form-fitting long blouse that swagged below her hips to meet at a point at the back of her knees. The fabric was white with purple polka dots for the body and white-and-purple stripes on the elbow-length sleeves ending in a pin-tucked ruffle. Striped labels and a stand-up collar added interest. Her pearls, matching ear bobs, and white button-up boots would complete the ensemble.

  A double tap sounded on her door before a note slid into view and stopped a foot away.

  She looked over the edge of the tub and tilted her head until she could read: 9:30. Don’t be late. Suddenly realizing the water had cooled, she hurried to finish washing. Today, she really missed not having the help of her maid.

  With only a couple minutes to spare, she arrived at the Congregational Church and walked into the foyer. As her eyes adjusted to the darker interior, she heard approaching footsteps and turned. A gasp whooshed out. Before her stood Declan, looking so handsome in a dark suit and crisp white shirt. “You shaved.” She lifted a hand to caress Declan’s smooth cheek and discovered a cleft in his chin.

  “I’ve been known to do so a time or two a month.” He held both of her hands and stepped back. “A fine sight ye are, lovely Aurelia.”

  She dipped her head and smiled. The caring light shining in his eyes was all the compliment she needed—not that she’d dissuade him from saying any he thought aloud.

  “I spoke with the pastor first thing, but I didn’t know if ye had anything special ye wanted said. A reading or a prayer.”

  Her fingers brushed against her mother’s triple strand of pearls. She had what she needed. That he would ask filled her with happiness. He acknowledged she had wishes. Her throat tightened, and she could only shake her head.

  Before Aurelia knew it, she stood in front of Pastor Alwin with Minna and Clara Howard behind her in the front pew as witnesses and repeated her vows to love, honor, and cherish the man whose firm grip kept her hand from shaking. Her eyes welled with tears when she saw the carved wooden ring Declan slipped on her finger. On the highest side was a ridge in the shape of a tied knot.

  Then the pastor made the final pronouncement and called them, “Mister Declan and Missus Aurelia MacNeill. Welcome to our community, and”—he glanced down at the opened Bible in his hands—“may your home always be too small to hold all of your friends.”

  Clara leaned over the pew edge where she sat and slid a broom across the aisle.

  “What’s this?” Wide eyed, Aurelia looked up at Declan.

  He grinned. “Indulge me a bit of old country tradition. We hold hands and jump the broom.”

  The color rising in his cheeks meant more was involved in his request. “For what purpose?”

  “’Twill show neither of us is an evildoer. Else such a person would stop and count the straws first.”

  “Ah, so you’re superstitious.” Learning this fanciful detail delighted her.

  A shrug preceded his forefinger and thumb narrowing to a small gap. “Mayhaps a wee bit.”

  She nodded, and they jumped together, hands clasped tight, and laughed as they hurried down the aisle. Declan pulled her away so fast that she only caught a flash of Andrea in the pink-and-brown dress. “You look beautiful, Andrea.” A dark-haired man slipped an arm around Andrea’s waist
and hurried her into the church. She’d have to learn the groom’s identity at the afternoon potluck.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he turned to the left.

  Hadn’t Lizett told her the community holiday gathering was in the park? “But where are we going?”

  Declan stopped, looked around, and then leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Call me selfish, but I want ye all to meself. No gaggle of brides or curious townspeople, and definitely no Latham lurking as chaperon.” He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bridge. “A lottery was held in the mining office this morning, and we drew cabin four.” He patted their clasped hands against his thigh. “I’ve got the key, and I want to see it for the first time together. Let’s go.”

  With her free hand, she held up her skirt so she could take bigger strides. The corset would have to be loosened again. They reached the bridge. She panted and pulled back on his grip. “I need to rest. Can’t breathe.”

  He stopped and set his hands around her middle. “Arrah, me fingers can almost span yer small waist. Living up this high ye need no clothing that keeps ye from breathing the fine mountain air. Come, look at the water ʼtil ye can breathe right again.” He rested an elbow on the bridge railing and ran his thumb over the wedding ring. “I plan to have Mam pick out a claddagh and ship it here. Now, that’s a proper ring.”

  She tilted her head. “What makes it that?” His voice cajoled her to want to hear more about his traditions.

  “We’ve plenty of time for sharing and learning.” He entwined his fingers with hers and started walking. When he stopped at cabin four, he let out a sigh. “Now ʼtis a sight to never tire me eyes.”

  Aurelia tore her gaze from his satisfied expression to gaze at the Prosperity Mountains against a crystal blue sky. The view was nothing like she was used to. But she could only smile that somehow this rugged place had stolen into a corner of her heart and become special.

  At the sound of a metallic click, she turned.