Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1

by Misty M. Beller

  The group settled into seats, and Claire poured coffee for each. Where was Bryan? His family and close friends were all here, so surely he would have made an effort to join them. Had a patient come in with an emergency? Did she dare ask? Maybe if she found the right opportunity.

  Claire escaped to the kitchen while Marcus peppered the men with questions about the town. Barely a minute later, she was back out with a tray full of steaming soup bowls.

  "Mmm… Lilly's goulash smells wonderful,” Leah said as Claire positioned a bowl in front of her. "Thank you, Miss Sullivan. You're lucky, Miri. You have access to food that you don't have to cook any time you want."

  Miriam sank back in her chair, as far away from the soup as she could without making it obvious. Her face had paled and took on a greenish hue.

  Claire rested a hand on her shoulder and leaned close, as if admiring the babe in her lap. "Shall I bring you something different to eat?" she whispered.

  Miriam turned weak eyes on her. "No. Thanks. I'm not quite myself tonight, but I'll be fine." Her glance shot to her husband at the end of the table. She needn't have worried he would notice, though, as he was deep in conversation with the others. Just like a man to miss what was happening under his nose.

  Claire eyed Miriam once more and saw Leah doing the same. "If you change your mind, let me know."

  Before she left to check on the other patrons, Claire swept one last glance around the table. Gram seemed to be doing fine with her food. Marcus leaned close to tell a story that had her grinning. The others all had full plates and mugs. She nibbled her lip. Was now a good time to ask?

  "Is there any chance you could join us, Miss Sullivan?" Doc Alex had noticed her lingering.

  "Oh, no. I was…" Just ask. Claire squared her shoulders. "Should I bring another bowl of stew? I mean, will your brother be joining you?"

  The doctor's gaze shifted toward the front window. "He hadn't returned to the clinic when we left, so I imagine he's working somewhere. We left a note for him to come here, but you never know if he'll be back in time."

  "Oh." Disappointment surged over her like a bucket of cold water. At least she'd have time with Bryan tomorrow on their ride. She spun to leave, but a hand on her arm turned her back.

  Miriam's pasty face held a weak smile. "If you get a chance to come by tomorrow, Claire, please do. Leah and I really want a chance to visit with you." Her chin bobbed downward. "And I want to show off this sweet one when she's awake."

  Claire glanced toward Leah. The woman's mouth tipped in a gracious smile.

  "Thank you. I'll come in the morning if I can." And just maybe she'd run into Bryan while she was in that part of town.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Claire had every intention of rising early the next morning, but she'd tossed for hours before finally succumbing to sleep. She forced her groggy eyes open and pushed up in the bed. The smell of coffee told her Gram must already be outside.

  Marcus was coming for breakfast today, and he'd always been an early riser. She'd bet a day's wages he was sitting in the rocking chair beside Gram, sipping weak coffee and watching the sun rise.

  After slipping into a dress and tying her hair back with a ribbon, Claire opened the bedroom door. A male voice drifted from the porch. Yep, Marcus.

  Claire poured her own cup and stepped outside.

  "G'mornin', sunshine." Marcus beamed at her from the chair. She raised a brow at him. He always had been too chipper in the morning.

  Claire focused on her grandmother. "How are you today, Gram?"

  "Fine, darlin'. Countin' my blessings."

  "It's eggs, cooked oats, and toast for breakfast. Sound all right?" She glanced between them.

  Marcus rubbed his lean stomach. "I'm ready."

  Over breakfast, Marcus described his new two-bedroom home. "It's plain compared to our house in North Carolina, but it suits me." He stuffed a spoonful of oats in his mouth and followed it with half a slice of bread.

  "Sounds like a palace compared to what some of these people live in." She didn't mean the comment to sound as bitter as it came out.

  Marcus swallowed the bite that puffed his cheeks. "So you've met some people in town? Can you introduce me? I'd like to start getting to know the folks."

  "Sure."

  "Marcus." Gram's voice quivered a little. "I'd be happy to introduce you around, too, and there's someone special I want you to meet. Has Claire told you my news?"

  Claire's heart thudded faster.

  Marcus turned raised brows on her. "No."

  Claire wrinkled her nose to return his jab. Maybe playfulness could make the news absorb more easily. Marcus was so protective, he’d never take kindly to a new man in Gram’s life unless he approved of him first.

  Gram reached over to pat her grandson's arm. "Marcus Timothy, I'll be gettin' married soon."

  Marcus surged to his feet, his chair tumbling backward in the process. "What?"

  Gram's face held a soft smile, not perturbed by his explosion. "His name is Moses Calhoun, and you're gonna love him. He's such a good man."

  Turning flashing eyes on Claire, Marcus rested his fists on the table. His voice dropped a register. "What in Solomon's name is going on here?"

  "Marcus, your language." Claire spoke the word as a warning. Marcus never added color to his words, and maybe she could use a scolding to distract him from his ire.

  He raised a finger at her. "Don't split hairs with me. Why haven't you stopped this, Clara Lee Sullivan?”

  Why hadn't she stopped this? Well there was one thing she could stop here and now. Marcus had pitched his hissy fit. Time to bring him back to reality.

  Claire straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. "I haven't stopped this, Marcus, because Gram is a full-grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. Mose is a good man, God-fearing from what I've seen. Ask any person in town. Folks around here have known him for years. And the long and short of it? He makes Gram happy. With those facts in his favor, I didn't see a need to put a stop to it." She leaned back and crossed her arms.

  Marcus eyed her, still leaning over the table. Then he glanced at Gram. "I still don't like it."

  Gram reached forward to rest her hand on his. "Moses should be back in town this week. I want you to meet him, get to know him. If you can see your way to it, I'd like you to marry us, Marcus. But if you don't feel comfortable with it, I understand."

  Marcus sucked in a quick breath. He didn't speak for several moments as he stared at her. "I'll think about it." He slipped his hand over Gram's. "I better get going now. Thanks for the breakfast." Then he nodded to Claire and strode toward the door.

  As it closed behind him, Gram's chest shook in a chuckle.

  "What are you laughing at?" Of all the emotions Gram could be feeling, laughter was the very last she expected.

  The lines around Gram's mouth formed a lively grin. "Oh, I suppose that went better than I anticipated."

  ~ ~ ~

  Claire hoisted the stacked crates of bread onto one hip so she could unlock the café's back door.

  When she pushed it open, Aunt Pearl sat at the table inside slicing ham. "Hello, dearie. I told Lilly to take a day off, so it's just you and me for the lunch crowd."

  Easing the crates onto the work counter, Claire turned and immersed her hands in the wash basin before she unpacked the loaves of bread. "She did look pretty worn out last night."

  "That's exciting about your brother coming to town, eh? A real preacher. And you didn't say a word."

  "I had no idea." Claire pulled the bread knife from its hook on the wall and started slicing a loaf. "It was as much a surprise for me. It’s great that he was able to find a church right here in Gram’s hometown. Pretty amazing how it all worked out."

  "Looks like the Lord's hand at work to me."

  Claire inhaled a breath. Why hadn't that occurred to her? "Yes, I suppose you're right." I'm sorry for not thinking of You first, Lord.

  "Oh, I almost forgot. Doc Brya
n stopped by and said he wouldn't be able to keep the meetin' this afternoon. Said he was headin' up into the mountains to birth a baby."

  A knife of disappointment sliced so deep into Claire's chest, she almost had to sit down under the weight of it. "Did he say when he'd be back?"

  Aunt Pearl shrugged. "Didn't say. Could easily take all night, I reckon'. There's no tellin' about these things."

  Claire swallowed. "I don't suppose there is." She sat for several minutes, mindlessly slicing bread. Her whole body felt numb. But why should she let this bother her?

  She had to pull herself together. Bryan hadn't planned to cancel their outing. It was simply his work that pulled him away. And if there was anything she knew about, it was the demands placed on a doctor.

  But couldn't he have stopped at Gram's to tell her himself? Gram had kept her busy all morning making things for Marcus's new home, so she hadn't even been able to visit Miriam and Leah. She would have been home had he tried to find her.

  Stop it, Sullivan. Give the man the benefit of the doubt. Claire straightened her shoulders. Bryan would be back in the café tomorrow, and all would be well.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bryan didn't come into the café the next day. Or the two days after that. By Thursday evening, Claire could barely keep a smile on her face as she served dinner to the regulars. How dare the man go so far as to kiss her, then just walk away? She should have known better. Should have seen this coming.

  And why was she letting his absence bother her so? She knew better than to let any man get to her.

  The bell on the café door jingled, and her head jerked up. An infuriating reaction. The man who stepped into the dining room was familiar, but her heart still plummeted. Doc Alex. His features were close enough to Bryan's to know they were brothers, but Alex's face was a bit more refined, more playful, with a shock of straight dark hair that brushed across his forehead. Bryan's masculine features spoke of strength, his eyes a silent intensity, especially when they shone green against his auburn hair.

  Alex stopped in front of her, and Claire motioned toward an empty table. "Welcome to Aunt Pearl's. Have a seat, and I'll start you off with coffee."

  He gripped the brim of his hat. "Actually, I need to take food home with me. Three plates if you have them."

  Claire nodded. "Certainly. Just three?"

  Alex's mouth formed a thin line. "Yep. Gideon and Leah took the wee one back up on the mountain this morning, so Miri's stuck with just Bryan and me." He raised a rueful brow. "Not such great company. Might be why she's feeling poorly." His forehead formed twin creases. "I hope it's nothing more. I thought dinner from the café would be a nice surprise."

  Claire tried to smile. "I'm sure it will." Although if Miriam's illness was from the cause she suspected, food may not help much.

  She wrapped up three plates for the doctor, forcing her mind not to dwell on the fact that Bryan would be eating with them. Why didn't he just come into the café? Should she ask Alex if he was all right?

  When she handed him the bundle of food, Alex smiled. "Much obliged."

  "Tell Miriam I'll be by to check on her tomorrow. I'm so sorry I haven't come sooner. Things have been busy helping Marcus settle in and keeping up with the baking for the café." She motioned toward the kitchen.

  "She'll be thrilled whenever you get to come." Alex turned toward the door.

  This was her last chance. "Uh, doctor?"

  He twisted back. "Yes, ma'am?"

  How to ask it? "Is your brother… I mean, is Doc Bryan all right? He hasn't been in to the café in a while, so I wondered…" She let her voice drift away. What exactly did she wonder? If he was healthy? If he cared about her at all?

  Alex snapped his fingers. "That’s right. He told me earlier to tell you he has to make rounds on the mountains for the next couple days. He’ll see you later this week." He held up the bundle of food. "He’s been working long hours lately. Probably won't get in to eat this until long past bedtime, but I'll leave it for him anyway. Don't know why he does it exactly. There weren't any emergencies that I know of. He's just out making rounds. It's like he's determined to prove something." He shrugged, a sadness clouding his features. "I haven't figured out if he's trying to prove it to others or to himself."

  As she watched the man walk away, a cold weight settled in Claire's chest. Of course. She should have seen it from that very first day, when he was so exhausted he couldn't find the energy to be civil. He worked himself into the ground, but something drove him. Was it to help others? Certainly, but the shadow that so often cloaked his mood pointed to a deeper ache. But what?

  With everything in her, she wanted to help this man. How could she do it?

  ~ ~ ~

  Bryan trudged down Elm Street, weariness weighting every one of his bones. Jackson at the livery had already retired for the night, so it'd taken extra minutes to wipe down Cloud and settle him in his stall. The horse deserved it though, after their long excursion into the mountains.

  As Bryan passed the street that held the café, his eyes drew toward that building, just three doors down from the corner. Light shone through the windows, sending out a cheery radiance. Inviting. Claire would be in there. Everything in him wanted to turn and approach the glow. Find Claire. Take her in his arms and make up for these last days he'd stayed away.

  He clenched his fists, forcing his feet to walk straight on Elm. Claire needed time with her brother. The way her face had lit, hanging on every word the man said. She obviously adored him. And why not? From just those first few minutes, it'd been clear Marcus was charming and held a deep affection for his baby sister.

  He released a long breath. He was tired. Tired of working so hard—for so little success. Tired of playing second fiddle to charming young men. Not just with Claire. All his life with Alex. As much as he loved his brother, couldn't he have just one person who liked Bryan better? Without him having to work his soul away to earn it? Was that really too much to ask?

  Bryan yanked open the door to the clinic, then slammed it shut behind him. Stomping down the hallway to the private chamber he occupied alone, he tossed his doctor's bag on the ladder-back chair by the door. His eyes scanned the room. This room he'd lived in for two years now, first with Alex, and now very much alone.

  The same four walls. Same wash basin with his shaving kit laid out. The chest of drawers beside it. Two trunks now filled the gap where Alex's bed had stood. And that was it. The extent of his home. Sparse was a kind word for it. Drab. Colorless.

  Lonely.

  His mind drifted to Claire. She brought so much life and vibrancy everywhere she went. At the café, the customers adored her. In her grandmother's home, the place seemed to come alive with her presence.

  His eyes took in his meager surroundings again. What would she think of this place? Think him too boring to waste time with? Bryan sank onto the bed and stretched out, boots, sweaty shirt, and all. He let his eyes drift closed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He didn't care anymore. Wouldn't care. He was too tired. Tired of working so hard. Tired of being judged and found lacking.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Claire pressed the rolling pin into the dough for the cinnamon rolls, even as her eyes wandered to the window. Six days since she'd seen Bryan. What was he doing? What was he thinking? What had she done to scare him off?

  Alex said he wasn't sick, just working too hard. What made him push himself so? She pressed harder on the rolling pin, then wrinkled her nose when the dough split. She tossed the wooden cylinder aside and balled the dough in her fists. If Bryan didn't show up at the café tonight, she was going to find him. She wanted answers.

  The thump of boots sounded on the porch outside, and Claire whirled, still clutching the lump of dough. Bryan?

  A knock sounded on the door. Her heart catapulted in her chest, and her feet lunged forward. He'd finally come. Just as Claire touched the handle, a voice outside called a greeting.

  "Good afternoon, ladies. It's Ol' Mose back in town.
"

  The stab of disappointment was stronger than any knife in her chest. Claire sank against the wooden divider, her weight pressing on the knob. Not Bryan. She fought down the burn in her throat, tears stinging behind her eyes. Get it together, Sullivan.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling a long breath. As it filled her lungs, she forced her mind to focus on the kindly man waiting on the other side of the door. Smile. She raised her eyelids, then stepped back and pulled the door open.

  "Woowee, Miz Claire. It's awful good ta see you." Ol' Mose stood on the porch, hat clutched across his chest.

  "Thank you, sir. Won't you come in?" She stepped to the side and swept a hand for him to enter. "Gram's napping, but you're welcome to cinnamon rolls and coffee until she wakes."

  He glanced around the room, then shot her a toothy grin. "Can't say as I'd pass that up. Thank ye."

  As Mose settled in a chair at the table, Claire pulled out a plate and scooped two rolls onto it. Should she wake Gram or let her finish the nap? He would have to get used to adjusting his schedule to fit Gram's needs, so might as well let him start now.

  "How was your trip?" She set the plate and mug in front of him, then moved back to the dough she'd been working with before his arrival.

  "Smooth an' steady." He sipped the brew, then released a long sigh. "That's the best coffee I've had in weeks."

  "Thank you. I'm not sure if you've heard, but my brother Marcus is in town. He's the new preacher." She eyed the man out of the corner of her eye.

  He dropped both hands to the table and leaned forward, twisting to look at her with one of his grins. "No foolin'? That's the best news I've heard all day."

  A smile pulled at Claire's face. "We're pretty excited."

  He took another sip of the coffee, still half turned in his chair. "A preacher in Butte again. Thank the Lord." He mumbled the words. "And it's our Marcus. Who'da thought?"