The Bride's Matchmaking Triplets

by Regina Scott

  The lady drew a sheet of paper from her reticule. “No, indeed. I heard they were ailing in any event. I wrote a list of verses for you. You may already know them, but as a preacher’s wife, you will be expected to quote the Bible on occasion.”

  Elizabeth accepted the piece of paper. “Thank you, Mrs. Arundel, but I have no plans to marry a preacher.”

  The lady drew herself up. “So Mrs. Hickey predicted, but I told her she was entirely mistaken about you. If your heart is set on a rancher, remember that silver does not become a lady.” Head high, she picked up her skirts and swept down the stairs.

  Elizabeth shook her head as she closed the door. “What was that about?”

  Annie shrugged. “I don’t know, but she obviously thinks she knows the good Book.”

  And quoted it entirely out of context. To what purpose? The way things stood between Elizabeth and Brandon, she was more likely to strike it rich in the gold fields of California than to marry a preacher.

  She was merely thankful that it wasn’t much longer before all the babies were rubbing their eyes and yawning again. Annie was doing the same. She helped the girl put the babies into their crib, and they all curled up to sleep. Annie stretched out on the bed. Elizabeth would gladly have joined them, but she felt as if something was prodding her again.

  She picked up the stuffed animals the boys had left lying on the floor and put them away carefully. The things had obviously been used far beyond the few weeks the boys had been cuddling them. Had they belonged to the Good Samaritan’s children? Were those children now grown, so they had no more use for the toys?

  She frowned. Fannie’s sons were grown and gone, and she said she missed being a mother. Could she be the Good Samaritan? She certainly loved the boys, and she had time to move about the area. But she wasn’t afraid of letting anyone see her affections for the triplets. Why would she have to hide her gifts, her good deeds? Besides, Elizabeth couldn’t see her sneaking out to the Windy Diamond just to fold clothes.

  No, the Good Samaritan had to be someone else. What connection did the person have to the babies? Was it someone like her, with no hope of adopting them?

  She sank back onto the chair, shoulders slumping. That was why she couldn’t rest. She knew what she should do—take the job in California and get on with her life. But that wasn’t where her heart lay.

  In an attempt to focus her mind on something other than her yearnings, she picked up Mrs. Arundel’s list and looked at it more closely.

  Romans 8:28, And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

  That sounded like what Brandon had preached on. Funny how it kept coming up.

  Revelation 21:4, And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

  She could imagine a preacher’s wife offering that in times of sorrow.

  Ecclesiastes 9:4, For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion.

  She couldn’t imagine offering that to anyone ever!

  The final one made her spine stiffen.

  Ecclesiastes 5:10, He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver; nor he that loveth abundance with increase: this is also vanity.

  Suddenly she understood what Mrs. Arundel had meant.

  Like Brandon in Cambridge, they thought she wanted to marry for money.

  The paper shook in her hand, and she slapped it down on the arm of the chair. How dare they assume she was so greedy to put aside all scruples! What about her behavior could possibly have given them that impression? If she’d wanted a wealthy husband, she would have accepted Clyde Parker!

  She was in such a stew she barely heard the tap on the door until it came again. Rising, she composed herself and went to answer it before the noise woke Annie or the triplets.

  Brandon stood on the landing, hat in his hands. She had so longed to see him, but she couldn’t seem to push Mrs. Arundel’s unkind assumption from her mind. Perhaps she was still scowling, for he looked at her with concern written on his handsome face.

  “I just wanted to check on you and the boys,” he murmured.

  Elizabeth glanced back into the room where Annie and the babies slept.

  “They’re resting,” she said, stepping out onto the landing and shutting the door partway. “But Doctor Clark says Jasper will be fine. He isn’t contagious.”

  She thought that would ease the tension in him, but he merely nodded as he turned his hat in his hands.

  “That’s good to hear. I also wanted to let you know that I may have found a solution to allow you to stay in Little Horn and care for Jasper, Theo and Eli.”

  The last frustrating moments disappeared like raindrops in the sun. “Oh, Brandon, that would be wonderful! Did the Lone Star Cowboy League decide I could run the children’s home after all?”

  “No.” She could see him swallow. “And no one I can find wants a governess or nanny.”

  She frowned, hope dipping. “Then what?”

  He drew in a breath as if making a decision. “Elizabeth, you should know that there are rumors going around about you.”

  She should have realized he’d hear them too. Everyone spoke to the pastor in Little Horn. She raised her head. “I caught a whiff of them this afternoon. It seems I value money over love.”

  He grimaced. “It’s ridiculous.”

  She cocked her head. “You didn’t think so four years ago.”

  “I was foolish,” he replied, so quickly and firmly she could not doubt him. “You are a fine woman, Elizabeth, one who cares deeply for those she loves. I cannot stand by and watch your good name be slandered.”

  He raised his gaze to hers. “Elizabeth Dumont, will you marry me?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Elizabeth stared at Brandon, feeling as if the landing had tilted. She must have swayed with the sensation, for he reached out a hand to catch her arm.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  He released her. “I asked you to marry me. I know Little Horn is a far cry from Boston or even San Francisco, but I can see that you genuinely care for Jasper, Theo and Eli. Just as important, they care for you. If we married, we could petition the Lone Star Cowboy League to adopt them.” His voice softened until she could hear the yearning in it. “We could be a family.”

  A family. She could be mother to those three darling babies, see them grow into the fine men she was sure they could be. She could stay in Little Horn, deepen her friendships with Louisa, Caroline, Fannie, Annie and Stella. She would finally have a home to call her own.

  All she had to do was give up on love.

  For he hadn’t offered that. He hadn’t claimed any sort of affection for her. Even now, as he stood on the landing, she could see his struggle. He kept his pleasant smile, like a good minister, but those quicksilver eyes were dark, hurting. He was giving up on love too.

  That was simply unacceptable. When Brandon had left her four years ago, she’d thought she’d never hand her heart to another. Her position as a governess had made it unlikely she might meet a suitable gentleman in any regard, and that thought had not troubled her overly much. She’d been willing to become a mail-order bride, with no promise of love, simply to escape the stifling confines of Cambridge.

  But to enter into a marriage of convenience with Brandon? It seemed wrong, impossible, something likely to twist her into someone she didn’t want to be.

  She must have taken too long to answer, for his shoulders slumped.

  “Have I offended you?” he murmured, face so worn she wanted to reach out and stroke the lines from beside his eyes.

  “No, of course n
ot.” She brushed at her skirts, anything to keep her hands too busy to touch him. “It was very kind of you, Brandon, but we both know your heart wasn’t in it.”

  His mouth quirked, more pain than smile now. “It seemed like the perfect plan for us both. I’ve come to care about the boys, but I’m not in a position to adopt them. A minister must be able to ride out at a moment’s notice to see to the needs of the community. And it wouldn’t be seemly to hire a nanny to live in the parsonage.”

  Something poked at her. “So of course you thought about marrying a nanny instead. How very economical.”

  He made a face. “Economy wasn’t the reason I asked. I was under the impression you wanted to stay in Little Horn with the boys.”

  She did. Outside her aunt’s home, she had never felt so welcome anywhere, until those vicious rumors had started.

  “And there are those rumors,” he added as if he had heard her thoughts. “Constance Hickey knows about your uncle.”

  She fought a shiver. So the story was out. Some part of her was relieved. She’d felt as if she’d explained the situation a hundred times. Now she need only correct the rumors.

  Rumors. Gossip. How easily they tainted a life. Though her uncle had been guilty of crimes against his clients, the gossip was what had driven everyone away from her and her aunt. Would it drive everyone away here too? If people in Little Horn thought her of poor character, she might well find it impossible to secure another position in the area.

  And how would the people of Little Horn react if those rumors tarred their pastor with the same brush?

  Heat flamed through her. “You’re concerned about what people will say about us. You’re worried for your reputation.”

  He colored. “My reputation will survive. I’m more concerned about yours.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, so now you agree that I’m some kind of fortune hunter?”

  “No.” He puffed out a breath. “Elizabeth, please. Consider my offer. I will make no demands of you. You and the boys would have a secure home, a place in the community. I can protect you. But if marrying me is unthinkable, even under those terms, I’ll understand.”

  David McKay had offered her a similar arrangement, and she’d accepted. But this was Brandon. Brandon, who had once claimed her heart. Brandon, who had made her believe she might live her dreams of adventure.

  Brandon, who had abandoned her when she needed him most.

  “Frankly,” she told him, “I don’t know what to think. I’m willing to believe we’ve both grown since our days together in Cambridge. But a marriage of convenience? I had once hoped for more.”

  He nodded. “So had I. But we are different people now. I promise you all my support, all my respect. I hope more will grow with time.”

  Time. Might as well say chance. He was asking her to risk her future on him. How could she?

  “All I can say,” she told him, “is that I’ll give the matter due consideration. Good day, Pastor.”

  He nodded again, face once more concerned, and she slipped into the room before she could give in to her feelings to console him.

  Back to the door, she gazed at the sleeping babies. Jasper opened one eye and smiled at her before nodding off again. Her heart constricted.

  How could she leave them?

  How could she marry Brandon?

  His offer was practical. It allowed her to stay in Little Horn, be the boys’ mother. He had said he’d make no demands on her, that love might grow with time.

  The problem was, she wanted it now.

  She pressed her lips together to keep from crying. When had she decided that? Perhaps it had been growing since the moment she’d seen him in the chapel with David and Caroline. Perhaps some part of her had never let go of the love she’d felt for him. All she knew was that she wanted Brandon to love her, to gaze at her once more as if she were the most important person in his world. To feel the tender touch of his hand on hers, the sweet pressure of his lips. Anything else felt cheap, wrong.

  Someone rapped on the door again, the sound furtive, hesitant. Elizabeth drew in a breath, steeling herself to tell Brandon not to badger her. She wasn’t ready to answer him, wasn’t ready to admit she still had feelings for him.

  But when she opened the door, she found Jamie Coleman on the landing. The young man’s face looked longer from his sorrow, his eyes dipping down and his blond hair hanging limp under his Stetson.

  “Please, Miss Dumont, could I talk to Annie?”

  Elizabeth glanced toward the bed. As if the girl had heard her beloved’s voice, Annie opened her eyes and met Elizabeth’s gaze.

  Elizabeth stepped out of the way. “Won’t you come in, Mr. Coleman?”

  Jamie snatched off his hat and hurried in as if afraid she’d change her mind. Annie climbed off the bed. Elizabeth crossed to the crib to keep an eye on the triplets. Then she turned her back to give Jamie and Annie some privacy.

  “How do you do, Miss Hill?” Jamie asked. The floor creaked as if he was shifting from foot to foot.

  “Since when was I Miss Hill, Jamie Coleman?” Annie demanded.

  Elizabeth fought a smile at the saucy tone in the girl’s voice. Jasper opened his eyes as if he’d heard it too. Elizabeth put a finger to her lips, even though she didn’t think the little boy knew what it meant. Jasper put his whole hand over his mouth.

  “I never think of you as Miss Hill in my mind,” Jamie assured Annie. “You’ll always be my darling Annie.”

  Annie sighed. “And you’re my dashing Jamie. But I just don’t see how we can be together.”

  Jasper climbed to his feet in the crib, and Elizabeth reached down and picked him up before he could wake his brothers.

  The rustle of cloth behind her told her Jamie and Annie had moved closer. “Your ma finally said she’d accept my pa’s apology. They spent the morning working on the fences together.”

  A whole morning? That was progress.

  “They did?” Annie asked. “Without shooting each other?”

  She would have to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing at this rate. As if Jasper knew it, he wiggled against her, grinning.

  “I promise you,” Jamie vowed. “And your ma invited my pa to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, Jamie!” Annie’s skirts whispered as she stepped closer yet to her beau. “Watch that she doesn’t spit in the food.”

  Elizabeth cringed, and Jasper stilled.

  “She won’t,” Jamie insisted. “I tell you, they’re trying to make peace.” He cleared his throat. “Please, Annie, won’t you reconsider? I’m no kind of man without you beside me.”

  Elizabeth glanced back in time to see Annie throw herself into his arms.

  Tears burned Elizabeth’s eyes. That was what marriage was supposed to be—tender regard, warmth and kindness, hope for the future.

  If only she could have that with Brandon.

  * * *

  Brandon spent that evening feeling as if he groped through fog. It hadn’t been easy to propose marriage to Elizabeth. At times, he was certain it was selfish to subject any woman to the demands made of a pastor’s wife. Only a deep and abiding love could withstand such pressure. He doubted whether he and Elizabeth would ever come to that place again. Still, he had thought she would see the practicality of his offer. It met her needs. It gave the boys a home. She’d been willing to marry David McKay under a similar arrangement. Apparently the problem was with him.

  He hadn’t been good enough to marry her back in Boston. Even though in Little Horn the town minister might be accounted a responsible, respectable position, he still wasn’t good enough. And he had no idea how to change her mind.

  With the matter hanging between them, he couldn’t bring himself to call and check on the boys the next morning. Surely she would see it as harass
ment. Still, he kept glancing up at her window every time he looked out of the parsonage, but he caught no glimpse of her or the boys.

  When Annie came by the parsonage that afternoon, he perked up, hoping she might be coming to tell him Elizabeth wanted to see him. Instead, she stood on the front step, beaming.

  “Jamie says my mother and his father are getting along,” she told Brandon. “We might be able to get married after all!”

  “That’s very good news,” Brandon replied, though a part of him would have liked news about his own wedding. “Will you be moving back home, then?”

  Annie glanced at the boardinghouse. “Maybe. Miss Dumont is good with the babies. She doesn’t need me all that much. She’s self-reliant.”

  She said the words with such admiration. Brandon couldn’t argue with her. Elizabeth did indeed seem to be able to take care of herself. Except where these rumors were concerned. But perhaps they wouldn’t be enough to allow her to consider marrying him.

  He tried to focus on his work. He went to the children’s home, where David was just finishing a second coat of sunny yellow paint in the new bedroom.

  “Good news,” his friend told him. “Arundel is going to donate dishes for the house—a set of twenty. And Casper Magnuson’s offered a wooden train set his boy outgrew.”

  So the people of Little Horn were once again stepping up to help.

  “Very good news,” Brandon said, fingering the handle of the brush sticking out of a can of paint.

  “You don’t sound pleased.” David climbed down the ladder and set aside his brush. “What’s wrong?”

  What was wrong indeed? He wasn’t sure he wanted to share his thoughts with his friend. He’d learned early on to school his face so his father never knew he’d scored. Now he made himself smile. “Nothing.”

  David didn’t seem convinced. “Still worried about Elizabeth Dumont?”

  He must be slipping. But he found it hard to keep up his pleasant smile while David looked at him with such concern. “Not exactly.” He released the brush. “I asked her to marry me.”