“I’m so sorry.” Madeline put her hand on Cara’s. “Clay told me you have no other family out here, and precious little back east, either.”
“See? He told you about our parents, too. He never talks to anyone about them, except me, and of course, Tabitha, before she died. He’s opening up to you. He’s feeling things for you, and it’s tearing him up inside.”
“If that’s the case, then it’s just as well that he delivers me to the ranch and never sees me again. He’s been through enough.”
“No! That’s the opposite of what he needs. It’s only tearing him up because he’s fighting it. He’s afraid. Afraid to be hurt again. Afraid to love someone again. Afraid to lose someone he loves again.”
“Wait—no—you can’t mean...” Madeline was aghast “...are you saying that your brother is actually in love with me?”
“Yes. Or falling in love, at least.” Cara couldn’t help but grin.
“But he hates me.”
“If he hated you, he’d ignore you. He wouldn’t talk to you. He wouldn’t confide in you about two of the most painful topics he could think of. I’m telling you, he’s falling for you.”
Madeline stared off into space, in shock. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you won’t marry Croft! You have to stay in Helena. Give Clay a chance to come around, to recognize his feelings for you. If you run off and marry Croft, he won’t admit how he feels to himself until it will be too late.”
“But it is too late. He does hate me. After what I said...”
“What did you say?”
Madeline’s face was white. “He got me so mad, I...I...”
“Just tell me!”
“Cara...I told him that I...I didn’t know why his wife ever married him.”
“Oh. No. You didn’t.” Cara’s hands flew to her mouth. The worst possible thing she could have said...
“And he’s planning on having Ben drive the sleigh and take me up to Croft Ranch, while he stays here with you.”
Cara shook her head. “Oh no, he’s not.” She grabbed the lantern, took Madeline by the hand, and marched out toward the cabin.
When they got inside, Cara set down the lantern on the table. She could see even in the low lighting from the lamp and lantern that Ben must have given Clay another drink while she was gone—he’d relaxed a little, and was very near to smiling. She could feel Madeline behind her, hovering, unsure of what to do. Cara took the two coats from Madeline and hung them up, along with her own wrap.
“Hey, sis! Me and Ben here were just talking. I’m plum worn out, so he’s going to take over the Croft...uh...delivery, and I’ll stay here and help you with that—”
“I’m afraid that won’t do.”
“What? Why not?”
“You see,” Cara forced herself not to look back at Madeline, who then sidled around her and circled her way around the room to the dish tub, “given my situation, I’d rather Ben not leave me alone right now.”
“Your...situation?” Lines of anger creased his forehead. Big brother didn’t like that his escape route was being blocked. “What situation, exactly, might that be? I don’t see any reason why Ben can’t leave for one day—overnight at most—especially since I’ll be here with you.”
“I’m expecting.”
The room fell silent, except for the thunk of the dish Madeline dropped into the metal wash tub.
“I thought you didn’t want to tell anyone until you were further along, honey.” Ben raised an eyebrow at her.
“I didn’t.” She worked to keep her face passive. “But...I’m not feeling that well, and you know how clingy I get when I’m feeling under the weather in this condition.”
Clay looked to Ben, probably assessing the veracity of Cara’s statement, and Cara took that chance to arch an eyebrow at Ben.
Play along if you know what’s good for you, the look said. She really was pregnant, but Ben left her alone all the time, morning sickness or not, unless she truly needed him. Clay probably suspected as much, but he wasn’t around enough to be able to accuse her of exaggeration.
“Uh...yeah,” Ben nodded. “You do tend to get that way. I just didn’t realize you were feeling ill.”
“Well, we have company, I can’t afford to show it. But yes, I’m feeling like I’d like you to stay close to home tomorrow.”
“Well, then…sorry, Clay.” Ben genuinely looked remorseful that he couldn’t help out.
Cara knew Ben wouldn’t like it that he couldn’t help out Clay—especially since he had probably gotten something in trade—but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Clay eyed Cara suspiciously. “Fine then.” He tossed back the last sip of his drink, then set the cup down hard. “I guess we’ll be leaving bright and early, Miss Barstow.” He cast an irritated glance toward Madeline, but didn’t look directly at her.
“Very well,” Madeline looked away, hurt, and turned back to the dishes.
Clay made his way noisily up to the loft, and Cara made a mental note to give him a tongue lashing the next day for it. No point in arguing with him late at night when he was already angry.
“Well, I think I’ll check on Mary and turn in myself.” Ben scraped back his chair and came over to give her a peck on the cheek. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispered.
“I do,” she whispered back. “Clay is nothing more than a baby bird, emotionally. It’s time someone kicked him out of the nest.”
Ben rubbed her arm, sighed, and went back to their bedroom, closing the door quietly.
Madeline set the dishes down and wiped her hands as Cara walked over to inspect her progress.
“You’re doing well. I don’t see a spot on them.”
“Thank you.” Madeline smiled. “Are you really...” she lowered her voice and leaned in “…expecting?”
“I am.” Cara muffled her giggle. “It comes in handy as an excuse from time to time.”
Both women grinned, and Madeline hugged her.
“Congratulations! And thank you for having me here, and for teaching me, and for putting up with me—”
“Oh, stop, now! I’m happy to have you. And to teach you. And the only one I’m putting up with right now is...” she glanced up at the open loft and lowered her voice to an even quieter whisper “...my stubborn brother.” Cara patted her back and let her go.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” Madeline matched Cara’s whisper. “Clay seemed quite upset about having to take me. This could be a disaster.”
“Might be. Might not. Won’t know until it happens, will we?” Cara winked at her.
“But if a man isn’t interested in getting married—”
“Oh, he’s interested in you, that’s for sure. What he isn’t interested in is getting hurt. Would you hurt him?” Cara winged her eyebrows up, hands on her hips.
“No! Well, at least not on purpose.” Madeline looked down. “I don’t even know how I feel about him, though, much less if I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Don’t you? Or is it that you don’t want to recognize your feelings, either? You know he considers himself unavailable. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s afraid of being hurt.”
“That’s rid—” Madeline stopped short, caught in Cara’s penetrating gaze. Was she afraid? She’d never consider the possibility before. “I don’t see how that could be. I’ve never even been in a real courtship with a man before, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to be afraid of being hurt by a man.”
“There are a lot of ways to be hurt, and by many different people in our lives. You give it some thought, maybe you’ll think of something. Because I can tell you one thing—I’ve seen the way you look at him, too. And he’s not a nobody to you. He’s not just your driver. I don’t know how you truly feel about him, but you feel something. That’s plain as day.”
“Oh my.” Madeline’s hand flew to her cheek, as if she could stop the flood of color rushing into her face. She looke
d up at the loft, afraid she’d see Clay’s face peeking over the edge. But she saw nothing, and heard only the rustling of sheets as Clay tossed and turned, getting comfortable in his pallet above them.
The thought occurred to her that it must be very cozy and warm to snuggle up with someone you’re married to every night. Then she had an image of Clay snuggled up behind her in bed, his arm wrapped around her, and nothing between them but the thin cotton of her nightdress…
She turned away, her cheeks truly flushing now.
“See?” Cara hissed, triumphant. “There it is! You’re thinking of him right now! You’re blushing straight to the roots of your hair.”
“Cara, that’s very bold of you to notice, or to point out,” Madeline chastised, and turned back to the dishes.
“Well, I’m a bold sort of gal, at times. Especially when it comes to my brother. Have to be, to deal with that stubborn mule, don’t I? In fact, the way Clay tells it, you can hold your own with him. Maybe that’s just more proof that you’d do well together.”
“Perhaps.” Madeline mulled it over as she soaped up a dish, then rinsed it. “I suppose I have earned a reputation with him of being difficult to get along with.”
Cara shrugged, grabbing a cloth and taking a dish to dry. “Not surprising, given the way you came up. When everything is handed to you, I’d imagine it’s hard to appreciate what you have, because you never had to work hard for anything. Even for love.”
“Why would one need to work hard for love?” Madeline tried hard not to be offended by what Cara had said, but it pricked her pride to hear it, no matter how true the statement.
Cara laughed. “Spoken like a woman who has never been married. “Nothing comes easy, not even love. Marriage—a good marriage—takes work. You have to learn to be patient, kind, and understanding. You don’t give fifty percent in a marriage—you give one hundred percent, and then some. Sometimes you have misunderstandings, sometimes one of you does something that offends the other. And the hard times can really get to you. But anything worth having is worth working for, and a happy marriage is worth having, that’s for sure. It isn’t always easy...” her eyes drifted toward her bedroom door “...but in the end, it’s always worth it.”
“I’ve watched you and Ben...you truly love each other. His eyes light up when you come into the room, like...like he’s been holding his breath while you were gone.”
“Really?” Cara smiled, blushing. “You’d think after so many years, it would get old and stale. And I suppose there are moments when things feel…tired...but mostly, it’s just deeper. The love, it’s so deep...” she trailed off, tears shining in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, pish, don’t worry about me. I’m a walking mess. That’s how it is when you’re with child—expect a lot of swinging from happy to sad to mad to sad to happy again!” She wiped her tears and laughed.
“Oh my,” Madeline giggled. “Now I’m not so sure I want that! But I do want children. And I want...I always dreamed...well, maybe it was just a silly fantasy, after all.”
“No—what? Tell me.”
“Well...when I was young, I always dreamed of being a princess. You know, big castle, handsome prince on a white steed, and all that.” She waved, as if to banish the foggy remnants of a childhood dream. “And all that is silly. Not only can I not attain a prince or a castle, I can’t even marry a man who can provide me with the lifestyle I am accustomed to.” She shook her head. “But more than that, I dreamed my prince would love me for exactly who I am, not my name or my money—because he would be so much greater than I, that what I had and who I was wouldn’t matter. I would be everything he ever wanted, and all he ever needed. That must sound foolish to you—”
“That doesn’t sound foolish at all. Being loved heart and soul—that’s all any girl wants in a man, when it comes down to it.”
“Except now I’ll never have it. No man can expect a dowry from me, that’s true. But I still have my name and reputation, so I’ll never know if a man is only marrying me because of any potential business advantages. Even out here, in the middle of nowhere, it is possible for a man to make business contacts who are connected to friends and business associates of my father’s. Mr. Croft even alluded to that, in his letters.”
“Yet you still agreed to marry him.”
“What choice did I have?” Madeline handed the last dish to Cara, and dried off her hands. She turned and sank into a chair, clasping her hands on the table.
“You could have stayed in Boston.” Cara dried the dish, then joined her at the table.
“No. No, I couldn’t. That is, I could have, but…I couldn’t stand the humiliation. I know it must sound ridiculous, to subject myself to such a difficult life rather than face the scrutiny of my peers. But such is the way in Boston society life. It thrives on gossip and backbiting. It would be unbearable to live through it. It’s a fate worse than death. At least, it seemed that way to me, at the time.” She sighed.
“And now?”
“Now? I don’t know. Might I have made a different choice if I had to do it all over again? Perhaps. I would have at least made a better choice in a husband…asked more questions. But it’s a moot point. I can’t undo what is done. I have an obligation, and I must fulfill it.” She sighed, and pushed herself up wearily from the chair.
“But Madeline—” Cara reached out to grasp her hand.
“No, Cara.” Madeline pulled her hand out of reach. “I’m sorry. I know you had hoped that Clay might change his mind—that I might change his mind—about marriage. But I can’t expect him to take me on as a burden just to save me from a difficult marriage.”
“Please, Madeline, just think—”
“I have.” She patted Cara on the arm. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. And thank you for the book.” She picked it up from the table. “I’m sure Mr. Croft will appreciate all the fine receipts in here. At least once I’ve mastered them.” She smiled a thin smile and left before Cara could stop her.
Chapter 10
Brilliant sun glinting off the snow banks woke Madeline the next morning. At breakfast, Cara showed her how to make pancakes, and though Madeline’s were misshapen, they turned out tasty nevertheless, much to the children’s delight.
Twice Cara tried to find excuses to get Madeline alone, but she evaded Cara’s maneuverings. She knew Cara meant well, but Madeline had to live her own life and deal with the choices she had made, no matter how much Cara might disagree.
The two women hugged as Clay loaded up the sleigh and the children romped in the fresh snow.
“Send me a letter to let me know how you are doing, won’t you?” Cara’s brow furrowed in concern. “No matter what happens, if things are bad, you’ll have a place here.”
“I’ll be fine. But I’ll write after the wedding, to tell you how it was.”
Clay shot Madeline a look over his shoulder. As always, his expression was unreadable to Madeline.
Ben helped Madeline into the sleigh and tucked the blankets and furs around her. “I’m giving you an extra fur. It’s too cold, and Cara’s worried you’re not used to it.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Madeline began.
“You can and you will,” Cara insisted, then handed her a woolen shawl. “And wrap this about your head and neck, and pull it over your face if need be, to keep the wind off of you, or you’ll chap.” Cara waved away her objections. “Don’t worry, Clay can drop them off when he passes through on the way back.”
“Thank you, both. For everything.”
“Anytime.” Cara made her way around the sleigh, where Clay had just settled into his seat. “You be good,” she murmured to her brother. Then she leaned in and whispered a moment, before Clay leaned away and turned, staring straight ahead.
“See you all in a day or two,” he said, then slapped the reins.
The children called out, jumping up and down and waving goodbye. Cara took Mary out of Martha’s arms as t
he little one cried and reached out toward Clay as the sleigh pulled away.
Madeline turned around, waving back at the family, eager to avoid conversation with her stubborn, sour driver.
***
Clay fumed as they headed up the trail. He tried to get a minute alone with Cara to talk with her—he half suspected the whole pregnancy thing was a ploy to force Ben to stay home—but she evaded him at every turn. When she said goodbye, she had the gall to tell him to be nice to his stuck-up, conceited passenger. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d started in on the whole “open your heart, let someone in” garbage again. When would she just let things be? If she wasn’t his only kin, he’d have a good mind to steer clear of her. His sister was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met.
The sky was clear and the snow a brilliant white. He hoped he wasn’t going to go snow blind. He preferred a lightly overcast day for snow travel, but at least they weren’t in danger of getting lost or trapped by the weather. The last thing I want is to spend more time with this blasted woman. He glanced sideways at her, sitting primly in her seat.
Yes, his sister won the prize for most stubborn woman, but most irritating—that prize had to go to Madeline Barstow. No matter how much his sister nagged, he could take it. But Madeline just had a way of getting under his skin like no other.
It’s no wonder she’s using a marriage correspondence service—any man who spent more than five minutes with her would run in the other direction. Unless, maybe, if the man in question was richer than God. Then it was possible Madeline would paste on a false smile and be sweet as pie to the man. Then he’d be up to snuff, in her eyes. But anyone who wasn’t rich and proud and well-known in the business world didn’t have a chance with the likes of Madeline Barstow.
She sure wouldn’t look in my direction, he thought bitterly, even if I was interested. Which I’m NOT, he thought hastily, wondering where such an idea had even come from. He wasn’t interested in any woman, much less a rigid priss like her. He cast her another sidelong glance, and something stirred within him. Thoughts tumbled into his mind unbidden—what it would be like to touch that rosy cheek, to feel how soft her skin was. He wondered if she was as soft as she looked, and how silky her hair was, and imagined it trailing across his bare chest as she laid her head upon it…
Mail Order Regrets Page 10