Last Chance Bride

by Jillian Hart

“The least?” He should be figuring out what to do for her, how to make her stay, how to make this strumming need for her end.

  He’d promised not to touch her if she stayed. It was for the best. He had to keep his heart protected. Losing Mary—the memories choked him even now. What if he lost Elizabeth, too? His gaze slipped to her belly.

  Emma dashed back, and the two of them began talking. So warm, filling the snug cabin with a life he’d been missing for years.

  Numb, Jacob sat down at the table. “Thank you for the horses.”

  “It took some practice. Emma said the first ones I made looked like dogs.”

  Then her smile shone bright enough to break his heart. “I’ve decided to stay. For a while.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  For a while, Libby reminded herself, that’s all. It wasn’t a hard decision. Not when she thought about it. Not when she wanted to take care of him.

  “Let me do the dishes, Elizabeth.” He covered her hand with his. “You worked side by side with me when Emma was sick. You’ve done so much already.”

  “I haven’t done nearly enough.” She felt it in her heart. She owed Jacob so much. Knowing him was a privilege. And loving him...she owed him for wanting her, despite her baby and his own wounded heart.

  “That’s not true.” His hand brushed her face.

  Fire rippled across her skin. “We can work together. We do that well.”

  “Yes. We do.” A smile warmed his eyes; a genuine smile that made her grin.

  “I’ll get the water heating.” She turned.

  His hand snared her wrist. “No, I’ll do it. I don’t want you doing any heavy work.”

  “There’s no need to treat me like glass.”

  “There’s every reason in the world.” His gaze slipped to her waist.

  Libby placed her hand there. “Emma needs me. I have her bath to draw and her bed to change.”

  It was the least he could do for this woman who worked hard fixing for Emma, tending her, washing sheets, grinding onions no matter her own exhaustion, no matter her own condition. She’d been such a help to him, and he didn’t know how to tell her. “I’ll get the bed moved back into her room for you.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Despite the exhaustion ringing in her eyes, Elizabeth’s smile shone bright. “Now that the blizzard has passed, the cabin feels so snug. Emma’s room will be more than warm enough for her.”

  “I’ll get started then,” he said, instead of saying what burned in his heart.

  “Jacob?” Elizabeth caught his hand. Affection snapped in her honest eyes.

  She’s staying. For a while, she’d said. He still felt rocked by the news. Joy stirred in his heart, lightening him. This was an opportunity to see what might come of their relationship. He felt drawn to Elizabeth like no woman he’d known—even Mary.

  That shamed him, and saved him. The responsibility of caring for another settled on his shoulders, gave him purpose.

  “Are you going to work today?”

  “I—” He hesitated. “Yes.” It would give him time to think. To make things straight in his own mind. “I’ve got a lot of men to thank for helping with the search. They don’t know Emma’s been found.”

  “Of course.” The soft morning light touched her face like he wanted to: gently, intimately.

  He stepped away. “I’ll get to the bed right away. And the wood. I want to carry in enough to see you through the day. How much wash water do you need?”

  “Jacob, you don’t need to do so much for me.”

  Affection. Admiration. He didn’t know what it was twisting in his heart, but if felt like more. “I want to.”

  Then she smiled, and it was enough to light the world. “My bags are waiting at the Faded Bloom.”

  “I’ll grab them for you and bring them home tonight, if that’s not too late.”

  “No.”

  He turned before the way her mouth moved when she spoke, the way her body moved when she walked, made him reach out and pull her hard against him.

  She padded off to the kitchen, and he yanked the sheets off Emma’s little bed.

  “Pa?” Emma strolled to his side. “Aren’t you glad she’s stayin’? I sure am.”

  He looked down at the rag doll clutched in her small hands, and his entire chest deflated. Glad? He was glad, all right. Hell, he was terrified, too.

  Libby watched a sparrow dive for the bread crumbs scattered in the peaceful blanket of snow, then squinted through the fog from Emma’s breath.

  “Now I can’t see,” the girl complained.

  “Then don’t huff and puff so close to the glass,” Libby teased.

  A grin widened Emma’s face. “I wish I could go outside and play.”

  “I think you were outside enough the other day.” Libby rubbed the glass with her sleeve. “In fact, the entire town was.”

  “I know.” Emma sighed. “I don’t like storms.”

  “I used to be scared of them when I was little, too.” Scared in her aunt’s home. It hurt to remember.

  “I’m not little, not anymore.”

  “Sorry.” Libby laughed. “Look, there’s your pa. I’d best get his coffee boiling. He looks cold.”

  “He’s got a different horse!” Emma clung to the window. “Please, oh please, can I go out and see it?”

  “Not today.” Libby stood. “Maybe tomorrow, if you’re well enough.”

  Her heart made a funny skip when she saw Jacob tucked beneath blankets in a small sleigh.

  “It’s the horse with the star on her face!” Emma cried, nearly toppling off the chair.

  Libby caught her by the elbow, steadying her, then leaned close for a better look. She squinted against the sheen of bright sunshine reflecting off the shrinking snow and saw Jacob, solid and dark, untying a horse from the back of his sled.

  “Pa, is that pretty horse ours?” Emma asked the instant Jacob stepped into the lean-to.

  He only grinned at her as he tugged off his boots. “I’m not telling.”

  “Pa!” Emma hid a cough in her hand. “Is she ours?”

  “No. I brought the horse for Elizabeth.” Jacob smiled, and when he caught Libby’s gaze her heart kicked again.

  “For me?”

  “Yes.” He bent down to tend to his boots. “I’ll have the team with me at the livery. You need to drive Emma back and forth from town every day.”

  “I have to go to Mrs. Holt’s to school,” Emma sighed. “It’s a good thing I’m too sick to go for weeks and weeks, right Pa?”

  “I don’t think you’re that sick.” Jacob winked.

  “Oh, Pa.” Emma sighed, clearly tortured by the thought of school.

  “I won’t need a horse, Jacob,” Libby said. “Emma can go to town with you in the mornings.”

  “But she’s done with Mrs. Holt by two. Would you pick her up for me? I guess we haven’t discussed what you’ll do here.” He looked down at his hands, confusion twisting his face.

  “No, I guess we haven’t.” Nerves fluttered in her chest. What did Jacob expect? What did he need from her?

  “She’s supposed to take care of me, Pa,” Emma interjected, then coughed. “That’s why we wrote her that letter in the first place.”

  “I guess that says it all.” Jacob straightened, then shrugged out of his coat. “Elizabeth, you will take care of us, won’t you?”

  “Oh, yes.” It hurt inside where she’d been lonely for so long.

  “Then the horse is yours.” The sheer size of him shrunk the small lean-to.

  “To use,” she clarified.

  “No. I’m giving her to you.”

  “But I can’t...” She froze.

  Jacob walked past her as if the gift of a fine horse were nothing. It was too much, more than she would ever deserve. She stayed because she could not leave him, not because she needed a gift.

  But he’d already dismissed it, walking through the kitchen with Emma at his side.

  He poured himself a steaming cup
of coffee from the pot on the stove. “Emma, go find the book in my room. I’ll read to you until dinner.”

  “Yes, Pa.” She scampered off, short sharp coughs punctuating her trip across the cabin.

  Tell him now. Her knees shook as she stepped forward. “I can’t accept the horse.”

  “A woman needs a horse. It’s a long walk to town, Elizabeth.” Jacob poured her a cup, too.

  “But she’s valuable.” She fisted her slender hands. “I’m not in the habit of taking gifts from men. I know I’ve been too innocent, too easy to fool in the past, but...”

  “Do you think I brought you this mare because of what we did upstairs?”

  She blushed. “No, it’s just...” Her blue eyes darkened like the sky before a thunderstorm. “I didn’t stay here to get something for myself.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Her face fell. “Because I have to know if we can make this work. Why did you ask me to stay?”

  “Because I can’t let you go.” If his heart gripped, he refused to feel it. “Don’t read too much into this. The mare has been abused and needs someone gentle. You need a horse to get you to town and back. It’s that simple.”

  He needed someone as gentle as her. Jacob grabbed the sugar bowl. “Besides, I wanted to give you this mare for the same reason you gave Emma her doll.”

  Tears, clear like diamonds, rose in her eyes, and her clenched jaw trembled. “No one’s ever given me anything like that before,” she managed to say.

  Jacob’s throat tightened. He reached out his hand and cupped her dear face in his palm. “I’ve been saving the mare for you, Elizabeth. It was hard to find the right time to give her to you.”

  She leaned her cheek against his hand. “I owe you so much, Jacob. For the horse. For allowing me to stay here with you and Emma. I won’t make you sorry.”

  “I know.” And he did. “I want to make this work, for Emma’s sake.”

  She stepped away, and the smile in her eyes dimmed. Jacob didn’t know why. He wished he could have told her the truth. He wanted her to stay for him, too.

  While she checked the soup simmering on the stove, Libby listened to his low voice above the crackling of the fire. There were a hundred different chores she needed to do, but she couldn’t seem to budge herself from the kitchen.

  Jacob’s low voice spoke of a faraway ocean, an ocean she knew nothing about. She closed her eyes, enchanted by his words. His voice rumbled low and affectionate, caught up in the joy of the story. Libby couldn’t help herself. She peered around the corner just to watch him.

  He bowed slightly over his open book, tucked in the chair before the hearth. His red flannel shirt matched the happiness in his voice, deepening his gray eyes and ebony hair. Her gaze traveled lower, remembering the feel of him. Comfortable cotton encased his powerful thighs, and his stockinged feet were crossed at the ankles.

  She wanted this man like nothing else—to love him. The emotion burned in her heart. Making love to him had changed her. She could see how love—how romance—was possible between a man and a woman. It wasn’t based only on need.

  Emma sat enchanted on the floor at his feet, gazing up at her father with rapt eyes. Jacob enraptured her, too. It was all Libby could do to keep from snatching up the dress she was sewing and join them. It would feel so right to sit in the other chair at the other side of the small fireplace and work on a few buttonholes while Jacob read, Emma at their feet. It would feel like a family at home for the evening.

  But they weren’t a family. It pinched Libby’s heart to remember that. But maybe, in time, she could make it so.

  Whether she was foolish or not, she didn’t care. Libby stepped into the lean-to and began organizing the shelves of food, listening to the warm tone of his voice.

  “Your soup was delicious.” Jacob ambled up to the worktable where Elizabeth was sudsing dishes. “I’ve been eating my own cooking for so long, I forgot what real food tastes like.”

  “You’re exaggerating. I’ve eaten your meals before.” Elizabeth plunged her bare hands into the dish tub, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. “You are a fine cook—for a man.”

  He chuckled. “Hey, I’m best with horses, but I learned a thing or two watching my mother and sisters in the kitchen.”

  “You watched your mother and sisters in the kitchen?” She lifted a skeptical brow.

  “Okay, I was usually eating whatever it was they made, but I saw things.”

  “Sure. That’s why Emma told me the only thing you could make was pancakes.” Elizabeth shook her head at him.

  “But I’m a damn fine cook now.” He grabbed a dish towel and began drying. “I never thought to ask if you liked books. We never discussed it in our letters.”

  “No. What was the story you were reading to Emma?” She sounded wistful.

  “Moby Dick Mother always teased me how I lived for books.” Between horses and reading, his only other love had been Mary.

  “I’ve never read a novel,” Elizabeth said quietly. She reached for the soup bowls with soapy hands. “I never had much of a chance to go to school.”

  “You write a fine letter.”

  She shrugged. “I worked at it, mostly at home. I always hoped I could be a schoolteacher one day.”

  Her lost dream saddened him, a dream he could not give her now. “I’m going to see if Emma’s ready for an early bed.”

  She only nodded, scrubbing hard at each bowl. Doing the same thorough job she seemed to do with everything. What other dreams had she lost? he wondered.

  He listened to Emma’s chatter as he tucked her into bed. Her cough was still thick and raw, but she was recovering. That was all that mattered. He’d sent for the doctor from town—only to learn Emma would be fine.

  His worries eased, he fetched the book from the front room and read to her in the lamplight until her eyelids grew heavy.

  Such a vulnerable child. He’d almost lost her, and it tore at him with a fury, with a knowledge.

  “I love you, Pa,” Emma said when he leaned to kiss her forehead.

  Jacob’s throat swelled as he cupped her little chin in his big hand. “I love you too, precious.”

  He would not be afraid to love.

  Elizabeth sat in her chair before the fire, her head bent over her work. She held a dress in her hands, patiently pressing a needle through the soft fabric. She glanced up from her sewing, twisting around to see him.

  “Emma’s a lot better today,” she said casually, facing her work. “I told her she couldn’t go outside until her cough was gone.”

  She belonged here. He knew it in his heart.

  “Would you like to go meet your new horse?”

  She looked up, her needle poised in midair. “You mean, now?”

  It was dark and cold out. Maybe it wasn’t best for her health. He wasn’t sure. “I wanted to check on her. She doesn’t take well to change. Besides, I just realized I forgot to bring your bags in from town.”

  She set down her needle. Smiled. “I don’t want to bother you. My uncle always had this idea about the stable.”

  “What kind of idea?”

  “It’s a man’s domain.”

  Her heart lifted when he laughed. “I guess I can say a woman’s domain is the kitchen, but I’m there as often as my stomach gets empty. Will you come?”

  Yes “I still don’t feel right about the gift of the mare.”

  “Then just don’t think about it.” His smile could knock her clear to the stars.

  Libby carefully set down her mending. She stood, washed in the firelight. He stepped forward and took her hand. Nothing in her life had ever felt so right.

  “I shouldn’t leave Emma,” she said.

  “She’s sleeping. She’ll be fine.” Jacob’s hand stayed, warming her skin. “Come with me.”

  The sensation of being beside him, of being touched by him pounded a vivid memory into her brain. Of Jacob standing naked before her, the thickness of his erection mesmerizing her.
Of his touch to her breast and the amazing fullness she felt as he joined them together.

  The man was like whiskey, intoxicating her, muddling her mind. She couldn’t think straight as he led her into the kitchen, then into the lean-to. He lit a lantern, and the dancing light tossed eerie shadows around the small room.

  “Tell me more about the mare,” she urged, just to hear his voice.

  “She’s a little mustang. I’m guessing about four or five years old, too damn young to have been treated the way she was. It’s taken most of the year to teach her to trust me.”

  He held out a heavy wool coat, large enough to be his own. “Here. Wear this. It will keep you warm.”

  So caring. “Thank you.” No one had ever treated her like this. “How did you teach her to trust you?”

  “Patience. It was something I learned from my father.”

  “No. It was your hands.” She caught his fingers, studying them in the wobbling light. “You have the most gentle hands. Just your touch feels like comfort.”

  She said the wrong thing. Jacob’s eyes darkened and he stepped closer. Without one word, he helped her into her wraps, then knelt to button her boots.

  “I can do it.” She bent to do the task.

  “I want to.” Jacob’s gaze stopped her. Tenderness burned, taking her breath away.

  He was a man she could depend on. She’d never had that, never trusted anyone so deeply.

  “Will you be warm enough?” He caught her hand with his.

  She could only nod.

  He led her out into the night Snow crunched beneath her shoes. Frigid air burned her face. The night felt so dark despite Jacob’s lantern licking a pool of light across the frozen vastness of the yard. Tall black trees, solemn in the dark, stood silent sentries indiscernible with the night.

  “It’s so breathtaking.” Libby tipped her head back to study the black canopy overhead. The sky was as dark as sleep and scattered with thousands of white stars.

  “Yes. When it’s warmer, I can stay out here for hours.”

  “It’s a little cold tonight,” she agreed.

  “The stable will be warm.”

  With Jacob’s firm grip on her, she didn’t slip on the ice. But she’d never leaned on anyone before. Once inside the small stable, she was glad when he released her arm.