She’d added a blue satin ribbon to the curls cascading down her back, her best lace gloves, and a dash of perfume. She felt pretty, despite her slight limp. From the appreciative glances she was receiving, others liked the way she looked, as well.
Fletcher listened to Dex going on and on about something he’d lost track of a while ago. Instead, all his attention was riveted on Julia. Back at the boarding house, he’d nearly lost his breath when she came down the stairs. The blue in her dress heightened the depth of her eyes until he found himself getting lost in them.
Her smile as she saw him just about knocked him off his feet. When Andrews complimented her on how she looked, he had the ridiculous urge to punch the man in his face. What the hell was happening to him? He’d never experienced such a possessive streak for Laura when they’d been married.
He probably shouldn’t have kissed Julia like he had, but once he had her in his arms after wrapping the blanket around her, it seemed inevitable. Like it had been decided for him without conscious thought.
Her lips had been soft and warm. Moist, with the light flavor of peppermint. He could have easily skipped the dance and spent more time exploring Julia and all the various ways he could kiss her.
Finally Dex’s attention was caught by someone across the room, and he excused himself. Fletcher turned to Julia, who was eyeing the hall as if she’d never seen anything like it before.
“I guess I should have asked before now, but do you dance?”
“I can dance, but do I have the opportunity? Not often. I’m grateful that Mac let me have the night off. This is exciting.”
Once again his breath caught at the look on her face. Like a child who had just been handed a treat she’d desired for a long, long time. What he wouldn’t give to be the man who’d caused that. Of course, he had in a way, since he suggested to Mac that he give Julia the night off. All right, maybe it was more than a suggestion, but he and Mac went way back. They’d both been in school together, and he was cousin to Laura.
“Why don’t we take a stroll around the room while the men are tuning their instruments? We can get some coffee or punch if you’d like.” He extended her arm and she took it. Now that he’d known her for a while, her limp had become so subtle that he never even thought about it. She was graceful, charming, and everyone seemed to like her.
Once the music started, he claimed Julia for as many dances as he could. Over the course of the evening, he spent a great deal of time glowering at the number of men who greeted her. He had to get her away from that saloon job. Just the idea that most of these men had seen her legs and the tops of her breasts while she worked about drove him crazy. He wanted to spirit her away from the dance and have her all to himself. Except she really seemed to enjoying herself, and he couldn’t take that away from her.
He’d barely rescued her from Johnson who insisted that she dance with him when Paul Denver, the typesetter from the newspaper office, stood in front of them, purposely avoiding Fletcher’s glare. “May I have this dance, Miss Benson?”
“I’m sure Miss Benson is tired. It’s been a long night.”
Julia turned to him. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, you look tired to me,” he groused.
She rolled her eyes and took Denver’s arm. He walked her to the dance floor as if she were a princess. Fletcher hated having to watch the man put his arms around her and lead her in the dance. She smiled brightly at him, even though the top of his head only came up to Julia’s forehead. And she was not a tall woman.
“What has you looking like you want to shoot someone?” Dex took a sip of some type of drink. From the smell of it, it wasn’t the ladies’ punch.
“I don’t want to shoot anyone.”
“Uh huh.” He smiled, annoying Fletcher even more.
“Isn’t there someone you could be dancing with, Roberts? Or have all the ladies turned you down?”
“Nah. I have my eye on one particular woman.”
“Well, go fetch her and stop annoying me.”
He took another sip. “I can’t. She’s already dancing with Paul.”
Fletcher’s head whipped around. “You talking about Miss Benson?”
“Sure am. She’s one fine-looking woman.”
“Stay away from her,” he growled.
Had Fletcher not been so enraged at the thought of another man with his hands on Julia, he would have noticed the twinkle in the barber’s eyes. “Yep, one fine-looking woman.”
Fletcher’s fist itched to smash into the grinning man’s face. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He had no claim on Julia. Maybe it was damn time to put his foot down and change that. Tell her how things were going to be. He was tired of having her turn him down when he knew she was attracted to him and had reacted to his kiss as she had.
She’d told him to think on it. Well, he had, and it was time to put an end to all this nonsense she was involved in. She didn’t belong in a saloon any more than a whore belonged in church. She needed a man to take care of her, keep her out of trouble.
And out of that skimpy dress she wore to work every night.
Julia was still smiling when Fletcher helped her up into the buggy. It had been a wonderful night. Several men had asked her to dance, which she’d enjoyed, but the best part of the evening had been when Fletcher had taken her in his arms and led her around the dance floor. For such a large man, he was a good dancer.
As she’d held onto his arms, the muscles flexing as he steered her away from other couples, she felt safe, secure. When he smiled down at her, the fluttering in her stomach almost tickled, making her grin and feel restless at the same time. At one point, he’d pulled her closer, close enough that the heat from their joined bodies almost scorched her.
Fletcher settled on the bench and snapped the reins to start the horses moving. The air was cool, and she was once again buried under a blanket. He was quiet on the ride home, almost pensive.
“Did you enjoy the dance?” She spoke over the edge of the blanket.
“Yes. Did you?”
“I did. It was fun. I like Wickerton; it’s a pleasant place.”
“Yes, it is.” He still seemed distracted, so Julia just gazed out at the stars. Maybe she should make a wish. She sighed. The only wish she would make depended on Fletcher, and so far that hadn’t worked.
About a block before the boarding house, Fletcher pulled the horses to a stop. They were in front of an empty field, the few houses in the distance darkened for the night.
“Why are we stopping here?” Her voice was raspy as excitement grew within her when he wrapped the reins around the dash rail and turned to her. Would he kiss her again? Would she allow it?
Yes, oh yes, indeed!
He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. His heart pounded so fierce he was sure she heard it. His head descended, and he took her lips in a slow, drugging kiss. After taking his fill, he pulled back, and his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “Marry me, Julia.”
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on his chest. “Why?”
He attempted to raise her chin, but she wouldn’t budge. “Are we playing that game again, honey?”
She didn’t answer, just nodded, her hair rubbing against his coat.
“You need a husband.”
She shook her head. “Is that all?”
“I need a wife.”
She sighed. “Is that all?”
He tried again. “I need a mother for Patty Ann.”
She raised her head and looked directly into his eyes. “Is that all, Fletcher? Is that the only reason?”
He hesitated. “I don’t want you working at the saloon.”
A slight tilt to her lips encouraged him. “And…is that all?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, beginning to realize what she was looking for. It had taken awhile, but by the smirk on her lips he had it figured out, and it had finally dawned on him.
“I think we would suit.” He held up
his hand before she could once again say, “Is that all?”
“And…” He raised her chin with his knuckle. “I care for you, and I believe you care for me, as well. That’s a fine basis for a marriage.”
She merely smiled at him, leaving him to believe he was finally getting it right. Perhaps Julia was expecting words of love, but in all the years he and Laura had been married, he’d never told her he loved her. Mostly because he hadn’t. Not really in the way a man should love his wife. He’d been fond of Laura, wanted to make her happy. Their parents had assumed from the time they’d been children that they would one day marry. Neither he nor Laura had ever questioned it
He now realized what he’d felt for Laura had never been the overwhelming desire he felt to possess Julia, to shout out to the world she was his. In his eyes, she was beautiful, funny, smart, and had quite a capacity to love. She would be a wonderful mother to Patty Ann and a perfect wife for him. Did that mean he loved her?
He pushed that thought aside. If it had hurt so much to lose a wife in childbirth that he was only fond of, what would it be like to lose a woman he loved?
Even in the small confines of the buggy, he managed to get down on one knee and took her hand. “Miss Julia Benson, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears shimmered in her eyes, and for a moment he thought she would once again reject him. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles, one by one. “Yes, Sheriff Adams. I will marry you.”
Chapter Nine
Fletcher scooped Julia up in his arms and carried her over the threshold of his house. Julia took a look around, thrilled that she now had a real home of her own. There was plenty she would do to make it warm and welcoming.
They’d just arrived back from the reception. Despite them only having a few days to arrange for the wedding, the ladies of the town had been very helpful in putting together a nice party at the church hall, complete with decorations and food.
Julia smiled when Fletcher set her on her feet as she remembered the part of the service when the pastor announced, “You may kiss your bride.” Fletcher had stared at her upturned face and said, “I guess I finally got it right.”
“Indeed,” was her response before he took her lips in a gentle kiss.
“I plan for us to take the five-ten train this evening to New Jersey to collect Patty Ann.” Fletcher pulled the string tie from around his collar and tossed it on a table near the sofa.
“So soon?”
“Yes. The next train to New Jersey isn’t for another three days. I miss her and want her here with us.”
Julia removed her coat, glancing around for a place to hang it. “Does your sister-in-law know we’re coming?
He gestured toward the hook by the door, then walked to the window and stared out at the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the street. “Yes. I sent her a wire yesterday morning. I want to go as quickly as possible since Catherine has always discouraged me from taking her back, saying Patty Ann was better off with her.” He ran his fingers through his hair “Perhaps she is right.”
Julia hung her coat on the hook and moved to stand behind him, her hand wrapped around his muscular arm. Tears burned at the back of her eyes at the thought of a little girl away from the father who obviously loved her very much. “No, Catherine isn’t right. You’re right. You are her father, and Patty Ann belongs with you.”
“I know. As I mentioned before, Patty Ann is one very important reason why I needed a wife.” He turned and rested his hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching hers. “I’m sure the last thing you want to do is take on a seven-year-old daughter.”
Julia thought for a moment of all that had happened to her since she’d left Lawrence. “Fletcher, I came to Wickerton to get married. Luckily, the man who sent for me didn’t deem me worthy, and since I don’t believe Mr. Johnson deserves any woman as a wife, I can only thank God he rejected me.
“I would love to be a mother to your daughter. I have eight brothers and sisters. And I miss them dreadfully.”
Relief loosened the tight muscles of his face, and he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head to take her mouth in a kiss that left her with no air in her lungs.
She blinked rapidly when he released her. “Oh, my.”
He cleared his throat. “One other thing I should have mentioned before you accepted my proposal.”
She raised her eyebrows. Now what? Did he have several other children scattered about the countryside?
“What?”
He glanced away, not meeting her eyes. “There will be no more children.”
Julia was a virginal miss, but after living in tight quarters with her parents and the numerous children they’d produced, she had a good idea of where the little ones came from. Why Fletcher would want to deny himself that confused her. He seemed to be a very virile man. She chewed her lip and studied him. Unless he found her so unappealing?
Fletcher pulled her stiffened body back into his arms. “I can see where your thoughts are going, and no, I don’t find you unattractive. In fact, I find you very attractive. However, I watched Laura die a painful death, with me unable to do anything for her. I can’t put myself through that again.”
“My mother delivered nine healthy babies and lives this day to finish raising them all. Not all childbirth ends in tragedy, Fletcher.”
“You can’t imagine what it’s like to watch someone die that way.” His lips tightened and he shook his head. “No.”
“You’re right.” She pulled out of his arms and untied her bonnet. “This is definitely something you should have mentioned before now.”
No children. At one time she would have jumped for joy after spending so many years taking care of younger brothers and sisters. But since she’d been away from them for a few years, she missed them. The sweet baby smell of a newborn, the first few stumbling steps as a toddler walked, the bright smiles, and arms lifted to be held and cuddled close.
Was she prepared to only be mother to a girl already past the baby and toddler stage? She studied Fletcher and saw a quick flash of uncertainty there. He was saying one thing, but she believed he could be swayed.
“Um, I don’t know how to say this.” She felt the heat rise to her face. Oh, Lord. How could she ask?
“What is it?”
“Well…I know how babies are made. Are you telling me our marriage will be…um…that there will be no… Whew! I’m not sure what to say next.” She raised her eyes to the sky, hoping all the blood gathered in her cheeks would dissipate.
“Are you trying to ask me if we will refrain from intimate relations?”
She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, yes. That’s it. That’s the question.”
“There are ways,” he started off slowly, “that children can be prevented. But for the time being, let’s not worry about that.”
Julia detected a definite smirk on Fletcher’s face, and all the heat that had begun to subside started up again. “Right.”
“So?” He looked at her questioningly. “Do you accept that?”
“Not all of it.”
“Why am I not surprised? Go on.”
“I am happy to be a mother to Patty Ann, but I wish to leave the question of additional children open.”
He stared at her, his lips tight, probably sure she wouldn’t change his mind.
She stared back, sure she would.
“This is very exciting. I’ve never been to New Jersey. What is Foxtail Grove like? Is it a big city?” Julia settled in her seat on the train and adjusted her skirts to leave room for her new husband to sit alongside her.
Her new husband.
She glanced at the gold band on her left hand, proof of the vows they’d spoken earlier in the day. Mr. Nelson had driven them to the train station in one of his buggies. He stood outside the train as it started up, moving in short jerks before it slid into a smooth run as they left the town of Wickerton, New York, behind.
Fletcher had graciously al
lowed Julia to sit next to the window, and she was enjoying watching the town slip away in the later afternoon sky, seeing the numerous farms they passed by as the train picked up steam.
“Foxtail Grove is a small town. Catherine owns a house left to her by her husband—she’s a widow. You know, I’m surprised you’re so thrilled with the train ride. You came by train just a while ago from Boston to Wickerton.” Fletcher took the basket of food the ladies had made up for the trip and slid it under the seat.
“Yes. But that wasn’t a pleasant ride. I spent the entire time worrying about the man I was supposed to marry.” She turned in her seat and regarded him. “It’s very scary being a mail order bride, you know.”
“I imagine it would be. To be honest I don’t think I would want Patty Ann to hie off somewhere far from home and marry a stranger.”
“Most mail order brides have no choice. Men don’t realize how difficult it is for a woman to make her way in the world. Would you hire a female deputy? Would most people feel comfortable going to a female doctor? Lawyer? Accountant? Outside of marriage there isn’t a lot a woman can do to support herself. Except maybe teach, but there are only so many schoolhouses.”
Fletcher rubbed his chin. “I guess I never thought about it like that. Most women I know live with their family until they marry. Then their husband takes over.”
“And if you have no family? Or if, in my case, there are far too many mouths to feed, so your absence helps the family?”
“I don’t have all the answers, Julia. Maybe one day things will be better for women. All I can do now is take care of you and Patty Ann.”
Julia sighed. “I’m sorry. After the disaster at the sewing factory, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of women out there who must do things to support themselves that they would prefer not to do.”
“Like marry a sheriff?” He grinned and took her hand.
Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) Page 8