The Unexpected Bride

by Griggs, Winnie

  While Caleb unloaded her things, Elthia stepped inside to pay her fare. Surprisingly, Mr. Josiah no longer intimidated her. She even exchanged a few easy pleasantries with him as they conducted their business.

  Then it was time to go. Caleb silently took her hand and tucked it in his arm as he led her to the waiting stagecoach. Was this the last time she’d feel his touch? She paused with one foot poised on the mounting block and turned back to him.

  Please, please, she silently begged, tell me it was a mistake. Ask me to stay. But he remained silent, and her last flicker of hope drowned in the tears she withheld.

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she managed to speak without her voice breaking. “Remember, you hold the key to both our happiness. You just have to find the courage to use it.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Goodbye, Elthia. Be happy.”

  She shook her head, refusing to let those insistent tears fall just yet. Her eyes devoured him, trying to memorize every nuance of his appearance. Would she ever see him again?

  “I left something for you in the kitchen,” she said as steadily as she could. “You’ll need to check on it as soon as you get home. Promise me.”

  He kissed her hand. “I promise.”

  Caleb watched her step into the coach and felt a moment of panic. His hand reached up to draw her back. Fortunately, she didn’t see the gesture. By the time she turned back around, sitting primly with Poppy’s basket on her lap, he had himself under control again. Then he saw the trace of moisture welling in her eyes and had to fight the urge one more time to haul her out of that blasted vehicle and kiss her senseless.

  She was his! How could he bear to let her go?

  But instead, he said goodbye, drawing out this one last glimpse of her as long as he could. Then, with a nod and a wave, he stepped back and slammed the carriage door closed a bit more forcefully than necessary. He watched the stagecoach move away until it topped a hill and dipped out of sight.

  Telling the kids goodbye had been difficult, but this was a thousand times worse. He’d come to care for her more than he’d realized, more than he could ever have imagined. Pulling his hat down low on his forehead, he turned back to his wagon.

  Alone again. Alone again. The refrain echoed singsong style through his mind, taunting him all the way home. He pulled into the yard, feeling very much like his six-year-old self, arriving for the first time. Only now there wasn’t even an Aunt Cora waiting to greet him.

  Caleb tended to the horses and buckboard, avoiding the house for as long as possible. Things were too quiet, too empty. And everywhere he looked were reminders of the children and of Elthia. He needed to keep busy.

  He left the barn and was halfway to his workshop when he remembered his promise to Elthia. She’d left something in the kitchen for him, had she? He smiled, wondering if she’d tried her hand at baking again. He had to admit, her efforts had shown signs of improvement lately.

  Caleb stepped into the kitchen and pulled up short. There, with his water dish tipped over and his leash wrapped in intricate patterns around chair legs, sat a woeful-looking Poppy.

  What the devil had Elthia been up to? She knew how much he despised the mutt. If she thought he’d come running after her to return that pint-sized fleabag…

  Caleb unhooked his hairy nemesis from the tangled leash. Then he absently scooped him up as he sat on the floor, propping his back against the counter.

  The dog wagged his tail unenthusiastically and whimpered.

  “I know, I miss her too.” Caleb petted Poppy’s head, only to discover he himself found some comfort in the gesture as well.

  He paused on that thought. Just as if she stood whispering it in his ear, he knew that’s what she’d intended. She’d known how empty and alone the place would be for him and had offered the only companionship she could, her cherished pet.

  Caleb pressed his head back against the counter, and his shoulders shook as he finally gave in to the painful emotions that had buffeted his defenses for the past two days.

  CHAPTER 25

  “I hear her brother had to all but drag her here tonight.”

  Elthia stiffened and backed deeper into the shallow alcove. That would teach her to act the coward. She’d slipped into this shadowy sanctuary for a short respite from the stares of her acquaintances. Now she was trapped, an unwilling eavesdropper to yet another rehashing of the latest gossip to hit Harrelmore.

  “Well, can you blame her?” another voice chimed in. “Imagine having to face everyone after what happened. I mean, of course her father said she’d known this Tanner fellow for some time, but everyone knows she signed up as a mail-order bride. Can you imagine! First being jilted then this.”

  Elthia’s hands fisted against her taffeta gown. They were saying Baxter jilted her. She supposed no one could believe a little oddity like Elthia Sinclare would turn away such a catch.

  “It must be just too embarrassing,” someone agreed. “As for that other rumor—Well, I suppose only time will tell. I mean it could explain why she was in such a hurry to find another husband.”

  Elthia heard the arch smile in the speaker’s voice, and a frisson of heat rippled through her.

  Sly giggles played counterpoint to the strains of a waltz coming from the ballroom proper. Then one of the speakers picked up the thread of conversation. “I wonder what this Tanner is like? I mean, he does live out in Texas. How terrible for her if he was some oafish farmer or brute of a backwoodsman.”

  Elthia mentally bit her tongue to keep from setting them straight. It would have been wasted effort anyway. These superficial debutantes would never appreciate a hardworking, honorable man like the one she’d married, the one who’d sent her away.

  “Whoever he was, apparently he didn’t appreciate our Elly’s charms any more than Baxter did.”

  The words sliced through Elthia. She hugged herself tightly as the gossipers shared another round of titters.

  “Now, now, we shouldn’t speak so meanly of the poor dear.” The speaker’s dramatic sigh grated on Elthia’s thinly held control. “Elly is such a sweet thing. It’s not her fault she has none of her mother’s looks and none of her brother’s charm.”

  “At least Harm is making certain his friends keep her dance card full. She’s so lucky to have such a brother.”

  Amid a chorus of sighs and praises for Harm’s many attributes, the gaggle finally drifted away.

  Elthia forced herself to step back into the glittery lights of the elegant ballroom. Those ladies were just gossipy featherbrains, but their words hurt all the same.

  It was just so absolutely unfair. They’d been wrong—about Baxter breaking off the engagement, about the kind of man Caleb was, and even about Harm having to drag her here.

  In fact, she had insisted on coming. For the two months she’d been back in Harrelmore, her father and brother had tried to shield her from the gossip. Lately, though, she’d begun to feel like a prisoner and a coward. So she’d decided it was time to face everyone, stare down their scandalized whispers and raised brows.

  But to be pitied—and by those cats—it was almost too much to bear. She’d have to endure it, though, until she could decently take her leave. She refused to turn tail and run away.

  That wasn’t who she was any longer. When she’d first returned two months ago, her father had greeted her with a gruff mixture of relief chastisement for her thoughtless flight and subsequent hasty marriage. Rather than meekly accepting his chiding as she would have in the past, she explained to him in firm, unambiguous terms just why she’d rejected Baxter and why she’d felt the need to prove herself. She also let him know that she thought marrying Caleb had been a good thing and that she would not tolerate any talk of annulment.

  He father had seemed surprised by her newfound confidence, but she saw a new air of respect from him, and they since had settled into a more comfortable relationship.

  An agonizingly long hour later, the first of the guests began taking their leave
, and Elthia decided she’d had enough. Catching Harm’s gaze, she signaled that she was ready to go.

  When she was finally seated across from him in the carriage, she slumped back against the plush brocade seat.

  Harm eyed her with brotherly concern, loosening a neckcloth that was still crisp and white after hours of dancing. “I’m proud of how you handled yourself. I’d say it went well.”

  She grimaced, knowing her hair had long ago slipped into disarray and that her sash drooped as forlornly as her spirits. “It was torture. You know I dislike balls. This one didn’t change my mind any. But thank you for keeping me supplied with partners. I only hope I didn’t mangle any toes in the process.”

  Harm flashed her one of those smiles that always set the ladies fluttering around him. “You are a graceful dancer, and you know it. I didn’t have to bribe anyone to ask you to dance.”

  “Just give a few pointed nudges?”

  He shrugged, not bothering to deny anything.

  Elthia stretched her neck, trying to ease the tension from her muscles. It was wonderful to have Harm around, but lately she’d wondered if she was being fair to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in New York?” she asked.

  His smile turned teasing. “Tired of my company already?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You know better than that. I’m very grateful that you want to stand by me, but you don’t have to make it your life’s work.” She picked at a bit of thread on the seat cushion. “Another scandal will rear its head soon, and all this will be treated like yesterday’s news.”

  But not by her.

  Elthia straightened as she noticed Harm staring at her with those devil eyes of his. She tried not to fidget. Surely she just imagined the assessing gleam in his eye. He couldn’t know.

  “I don’t think so,” he said finally.

  “What do you mean? Of course the talk will die—”

  “When are you going to tell him, Elly?”

  Trying desperately to avoid her brother’s probing, Elthia attempted a guileless expression. Keep talking. He doesn’t know, he’s just being annoyingly inscrutable again. “I haven’t the least idea what you’re going on about. We were discussing your going to New York, remember?”

  Harm leaned forward. “What we were discussing is just when are you planning to tell Caleb he’s going to be a father?”

  Elthia felt the blood drain from her face. Impossible! She hadn’t told anyone, and it didn’t show yet. “How did you know?”

  Harm grinned. “I didn’t, until just now.”

  She tried to dredge up some anger for her oh-so-clever brother but felt only relief to have someone share her secret.

  “He doesn’t know yet, does he?”

  She shook her head. “I only realized myself a few days ago.” Because she hadn’t missed her monthly flow, she’d been slow to realize the truth. But Dr. Driscoll had confirmed it for her. Apparently it was rare but not unheard of for a woman to continue with a weak monthly cycle through at least the early part of her confinement.

  She was indeed carrying Caleb’s child.

  Harm leaned forward and closed his hands over hers. “You have to tell him. No matter what he’s done, he has a right to know.”

  Elthia nodded. “I know. Just not yet.”

  He raised a sympathetic brow. “Still hoping he’ll come to his senses?”

  She nodded again and to her horror felt a tear trickle down her cheek. “Oh, Harm, what’ll I do if he never comes for me?”

  Harm shifted to her side and offered his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Elly,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her. “If he cares for you as much as he seemed to when I visited you, he won’t be able to stay away much longer.”

  Caleb nearly dropped the pail of milk he carried as Poppy ran helter-skelter into his path. Regaining his balance, he eyed the dog irritably, grumbling out a bad-tempered “Watch it, mutt.”

  Poppy paused, looked up at him with tail-wagging bliss, then picked back up on his excited pursuit of a bug or lizard or leaf or whatever.

  Caleb plodded on toward the house, deciding it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d spilled the whole blasted pail. He really should sell the milk cows. He, Poppy, and the barn cat together didn’t drink enough milk to justify the expense of keeping the beasts.

  He entered the kitchen and set the pail on the counter. Catching sight of his reflection in the window above the sink, he winced. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and truth to tell, he wasn’t sure he’d shaved yesterday either. What was the point?

  The kitchen was a mess. Zoe and Elthia would have his hide if they could see it. The sound of their feminine grousing would be music to his ears right now. How long had it been? Nine weeks? Ten?

  An eternity.

  With a growl, he stalked out. Forget breakfast—he wasn’t hungry anyway. He needed to focus on something besides memories.

  But the memories followed him into the workshop. Images of Elthia, standing with hands on her hips, issuing her We’ve got to talk ultimatum. Images of her examining the rocking horses, an expression of delight on her face. Images of her flushed and mussed, her kiss-swollen lips smiling at him shyly.

  It was actually a relief when he heard a carriage pull into the yard. Granny Picket had taken to coming by once a week. Bless the old busybody, she spent as much time calling him a pigheaded fool of a man without the sense God gave a toad, as she did making sure he ate right and generally took care of himself.

  But when Caleb stepped out of his workshop, it wasn’t Granny he saw but Elthia’s brother. Harm was making a beeline toward the house, but he altered course when he caught sight of Caleb.

  What was he doing here? Caleb’s heart gave a sickening lurch. Had something happened to Elthia?

  “There you are, Tanner.” Harm stopped a few feet away and began to roll up one of his sleeves.

  Caleb bypassed the greetings as well. “Is Elthia all right?”

  “I’m surprised you care.” Harm started on his other sleeve.

  Caleb’s brows drew down. “Look, Sinclare, we may not be together anymore, but let’s get one thing straight. I still care about Elthia. Now I’m gonna ask again. Is she okay?”

  Harm returned his glare. “No, you lout, she’s not okay. Her heart’s broken. She’s lost her ability to smile.”

  Caleb relaxed slightly. She was all right then. And he was selfish enough to be glad she missed him. “I’m sorry. But—”

  “No excuses.” Harm’s tone was silky and dangerous. “I told you what I’d do if you did anything to hurt her. Remember?”

  He remembered. The significance of Harm’s sleeve-rolling action finally sunk in. “What I did, I did for her own good.”

  “Well now, it seems we don’t share the same view when it comes to Elly’s good. I suggest you prepare to defend yourself.”

  Caleb held a hand up. “I’ve no beef to pick with you.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Have it your way.” Caleb did some sleeve-rolling of his own. If the man insisted on a fight, so be it. He’d felt like pounding on something besides his woodworking projects for several days now. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

  Harm’s smile turned feral. “I’m going to beat you to a bloody pulp for what you did to Elly. Then, when I get back, I’m going to do everything in my power to convince her to forget you and look for a worthier man.”

  Caleb raised his fists, more than ready for a brawl. “Come on, Sinclare. I’m looking forward to seeing if rich boys bleed as easily as the rest of us do.”

  Ten minutes later, both men sat on the ground, panting and nursing bloodied faces and knuckles. Caleb tasted salty grit on his tongue, along with the metallic twang of blood.

  Poppy chose the momentary lull to investigate, yipping as he advanced and retreated between the two men.

  Harm used a sleeve to dab at his bloody lip. “How’d you end up with the furry nuisance?”

  “Elthia left him as a going-away present.”
Caleb worked his jaw, deciding it wasn’t broken after all.

  Harm’s wolfish smile returned. “Poetic justice.”

  “She meant it kindly.” He wouldn’t let even her brother speak ill of her. Caleb absently scratched the tail-wagging mutt behind the ears. The fight had released some of the tension that had been building inside him since he’d sent Elthia away.

  Harm gave a bark of laughter, followed by a wince of pain. “Knowing my sister, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

  Caleb shared a grin with him, then sobered. “She really is okay?” He hungered for any news of her.

  Lowering his arm, Harm sobered. “Physically, yes.”

  Caleb nodded, hiding his disappointment when Elthia’s brother didn’t elaborate. Uncomfortable under Harm’s scrutiny, he changed the subject. “For a rich boy, you throw a mean left hook.”

  Harm’s mocking grin returned. “For a lout, you weren’t doing so bad yourself.”

  Flexing his hands, Caleb winced at the angry protest of his knuckles. “Seems we’re pretty evenly matched,” he mused.

  “Are you suggesting a truce?”

  “I have a bottle of whiskey inside.” Caleb hauled himself up, surprised to find he wasn’t at all eager to send Harm away. It gave him a connection to Elthia of sorts. “Strictly for medicinal purposes, you understand. But this seems to qualify.”

  Harm levered himself up as well. “Lead on,” he said heartily, clapping Caleb on the back hard enough to make him stumble.

  Caleb’s glare was met with spread hands and a cheerfully uttered “Sorry.” Deciding to accept the apology, Caleb moved on.