Lorelei shrugged.
“I must say that it is good to hear a gentleman express that sentiment,” she praised him, adding through gritted teeth, “I am afraid, however, that your ideas do not seem to be shared by the vast majority of men in this age. And this distresses me greatly, as my parents have been pressing me as of late to find a husband—and quick.”
Jacob looked at her for a long moment, then took her hand once again in his.
“Miss Lorelei, I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed this afternoon,” he told her, tone soft and sincere as he raised her hand to his soft full lips for a long, lingering kiss. “I also cannot express the depths of my appreciation to you for accepting me without prejudice or reservation into your group.”
Lorelei nodded.
“The pleasure is mine, Jacob,” she told him, adding as she squeezed his hand in hers, “all of us make mistakes in life, and each and every one of us was born a sinner. What’s important here, Jacob is that you are committing yourself to the pursuit of purification; committed to leading a Godly life, rejecting all of the sin and temptation that may have plagued you before this moment.”
Jacob shifted his gaze to the blanket beneath them, fighting a wave of unbidden tears that suddenly flooded his eyes.
“You have such a dear and kind heart, Ma’am,” he praised her, adding as he lifted his gaze to stare deep into her eyes, “I can’t help but to have the feeling that I met you at just the right time.” He paused here, adding with a charming smile, “I do hear, Miss Lorelei, that the church will be hosting a barn dance next Saturday. Would you care to be my date for the evening?”
Lorelei blushed, grinning in spite of herself as she considered this sudden but very flattering invitation.
“No,” she replied. “Absolutely not.”
*****
“No?”
Jacob blinked hard as he sat back harder on the surface of their checkerboard picnic blanket, regarding the woman before him with a deep frown as he pressed her, “Did you just say no?”
Lorelei nodded.
“What’s wrong cowboy, never heard that particular word from a woman?” she asked, her eyebrows arched in a caustic fashion. “Well, if it helps you out to hear a definition, the word no is the direct opposite of yes …”
“I know all too well the meaning of the word no,” Jacob interrupted her, adding as he pinned her with a sorrowful frown, “I just never expected to hear this word from such a kind, understanding lady.”
Lorelei bit her lip.
“I’m always pleased to make a new friend Jacob, and for that matter to welcome a new member with open arms into my riding club,” she paused here, adding as she looked him straight in the eyes, “but I fear that, in the most literal sense, my arms never will be open to you.” She paused again, adding as her tone softened and her gaze narrowed in a show of tender understanding, “Now, please do not misunderstand me, Jacob. I do not in any way judge your past, or, for that matter, doubt your ability to overcome it. It is simply that if I do indeed choose to marry, I wish to be bound with a man whose life and experiences are similar to my own. I want a man who is … I don’t know. Pure.”
Jacob sighed.
“Don’t you see, though, Lorelei, that this is why I came to church in the first place?” he asked her, adding as he made an almost desperate gesture between them, “I want to make good, and I want to be good, but it would help me so much to have a good woman beside me, leading my way to a better life.”
Lorelei shook her head.
“You don’t need me to guide you, Jacob. I’m no angel, I’m just a woman,” she countered, adding with an encouraging smile, “I have every faith that you will find God’s path on your own. And, with time, I just might find the man that God intends to be my wedded husband.”
*****
During the next few weeks, Jacob continued to attend church on a regular basis, bringing with him each time a sweet, well-intended token that he hoped would change Lorelei’s mind; gifts that included a sparkling golden rose grown fresh on his own ranch, a freshly baked peach pie, and—finally and in his mind most impressively—a newspaper.
Now under customary circumstances, he reasoned, a single issue of a daily periodical would not make a suitable gift for a lovely young lady; even a full subscription, he figured, would not suit at all as a resplendent gift of courtship.
Yet this particular publication, he believed, happened to include a certain advertisement that might just be of interest to Lorelei.
Or so he hoped.
“A mail order bride ad? Have you gone mad?”
Shaking her head in a show of keen disbelief, Lorelei tossed her gift in a show of offense to the picnic blanket beneath them; shifting her gaze to the smirking gent who had made this most offensive gesture.
“So sorry to trouble you miss,” he apologized immediately, raising his hands up between them in what seemed a defensive stance. “It is simply that, the moment I read this particular advertisement, I saw so many of the qualities that you seem to be seeking in a mate. With that in mind, I would encourage you to read the words of this gentle and very sincere man to see if he indeed might be the man of your heart.”
Lorelei stared at him for a long moment, swallowing hard as she processed this information.
“So what you’re saying is,” she asked him, tone slow and halting, “is that you are finally giving up on me? On the idea of us being together?”
Jacob nodded.
“I am sorry to say, dear lady, that this is precisely what I’m saying,” he revealed, adding with a hearty sigh, “for as much as I would love to be with you myself, dear Lorelei, I want above all to see you with the perfect gentleman—a man who is true and pure in the eyes of God.”
Ducking her head and hooding her eyes as though bound and determined to conceal an unidentifiable emotion, Lorelei hoisted the newspaper up before her eyes in what seemed a defensive, even concealing stance.
“Looking for a man both handsome and holy? A man made in the image of God, who promises to follow His every will and dictate—as well as yours, in the role of his beloved wife?” she read aloud, trying to suppress the slight quiver that seized her melodic voice. “If so, then please look no farther than the doorstep of this good-natured Christian rancher; a prosperous Texan who realizes that all of the gold in the world will never buy the grace of God—or, for that matter, the love of a good woman. Will you be that woman for me?”
Lorelei fell silent here, quietly taking note of the address specified at the tail end of the advertisement.
“Well, I shall admit it,” she spoke again finally, once again ducking her head as she tossed the paper aside, “my curiosity is peaked.”
Her heart broke a little as Jacob met these words with a bright, ebullient smile.
“Go to him, my friend,” he urged her, adding as his smile widened, “I’m sure that he will be more than pleased to meet you.”
Taking these words to heart, Lorelei rose early the next morning and dressed in a proper but eye-catching dress—one that boasted a pink and white pin striped blouse with puffed shoulders and long sleeves, tapering down to reveal a foot length navy blue cotton walking skirt and polished leather boots.
Pinning her golden hair atop her head and covering it with a sweet bonnet of fine ivory muslin, she said a quick goodbye to her perplexed parents and a quick prayer heavenward because she told them that she was headed to Bible study.
Soon Daffodil took her with pounding hooves in the direction of the address specified in the mail order bride advertisement, delivering her all too quickly to the bronze cast gates that fronted the place of her destination.
Her eyes flew wide as they perused the monogrammed sign posted just above the gates, one that bore the simple moniker of Jake’s Place, spelled ou
t in refined calligraphy script that befit a man of distinction.
“Jake,” she read the sign aloud, adding with an affirming nod, “Jake is a good solid name. I like Jake.”
“Jake is very pleased to hear that—because as it happens, Jakes likes you too.”
Lorelei jumped as soon as she realized that once again she was not alone; jumping yet again as she realized that—as per her usual practice—she’d been thinking out loud again.
Raising her gaze to apologize to her host for her sudden and seeming loss of propriety, she froze as she identified the man on the opposite side of the entry gate, a man whose bronzed skin, flowing honey blond hair and sparkling blue eyes shone brilliantly in the sun above them.
Dressed in a crisp white cotton shirt laced with brass buttons and a sculpting pair of freshly washed blue jeans, her host for the day came to her riding a familiar looking ebony charger as he graced her with an equally familiar smile.
“Good mornin’ to you, Miss Lorelei,” Jacob Clayton greeted her, tipping his signature white hat firmly in her direction.
So maybe the hat is dirty white instead of lily white, she mused in silence, adding as she watched the gates of paradise opening before her, this just might work out after all.
Once inside the gates, Jacob treated her to a tour of his elite ranch; a vast expanse of emerald green grasses blooming forth with ebullient blossoms of robust golden roses.
“You grow the yellow rose of Texas here!” Lorelei marveled, devouring the vision and inhaling the scent of her favorite radiant floral.
Offering no verbal reply in response to these words, Jacob instead hopped in a single smooth flourish from the back of his ebony charger, bowing low above his robust growths of lush, dew glistened gold yellow roses.
After taking a moment to admire the flawless roundness of his prized golden florals, the proud rancher picked an exquisite sampling of what seemed to be his signature crop—gathering an even dozen of his blossoms into his strong, sturdy grasp and presenting them with a stately bow to his flabbergasted guest.
“For me?” Lorelei gasped outright, hugging the bouquet tight against her bosom before cradling it sweet in affectionate arms. “Do you know something, Jacob? As fine a gentleman as my pa is, and as much as he loves and respects my ma, I do not believe that he would strip his prized crop to make a gift of it—not even for her.”
Jacob shrugged.
“One thing that I have learned, Lorelei, is that the greatest treasures that a man can accrue on this earth are worthless,” he declared, adding as he came up astride her horse and took her free hand in his, “if he doesn’t have a very special lady to share them with, a lady like you, my dear.”
With this, he raised her hands to his lips for a long, adoring kiss, then watched in sheer wonder as she picked a vibrant golden floral from her glorious bouquet and rubbed its petals across her fair skinned cheek.
“Well, once again, I must say it,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper, “the roses are beautiful, and so is your ranch.”
Yet with these words she lowered the bouquet and pinned her host with an inquisitive stare.
“Why did you not admit to me, Jacob, that you were the owner of this ranch—and, for that matter, the man who placed the ad?” she queried, tone bordering on accusing. “Why did you lie to me?”
Jacob thought a moment, then shook his head.
“In all actuality, my dear, I did not lie to you,” he revealed, adding with a heaving sigh, “the man who placed that ad, Lorelei, was not the same man that you first met at the church.”
Lorelei blinked.
“He wasn’t?” she asked, laying a tight hold on the reins before her as she shifted uncomfortably in the seat of her saddle. “Do you happen to be in possession of more than one personality there, Jacob?”
Throwing his golden head back in a leonine flourish, her host let loose with a melodic guffaw that sent tingles down her spine.
“As of late, yes I do,” he agreed, adding more seriously, “before I met you, Lorelei, I was a sinner; a man who had forgotten the teachings of the church, of his parents, of his grandparents.” He paused here, hanging his head as he continued in a somber tone, “The moment that I saw the pain that riddled the face of Lillibet’s husband, a pain that seemed to erupt from deep in his heart, I finally realized the wrong I was doing.” He paused here, adding in a deep reflective tone, “It is about that time that I became the man you met at church—still deeply flawed, still a bit in denial—but willing and trying to change. And the moment I laid eyes on you, the moment I first spoke to you, I found a reason to change.”
Lorelei smiled, reaching forward to cup Jacob’s chiseled bronzed cheek as she considered these poignant words.
“And the man who placed the ad?” she pressed. “Tell me, who is he?”
Jacob thought a moment, then shrugged.
“Well, I suppose he’s the man I want to be,” he revealed, adding as he made a broad gesture between them, “a man who loves God and lives in His image—who lives, furthermore, by the word of the Bible as well as the Golden Rule. The type of man that would make an ideal husband for a lady like you.”
He cringed here as his wide-eyed guest let loose of his hands, holding them up between them in what seemed a defensive stance.
“Now hold your horses there, cowboy,” she interjected, adding as she softened her words with a gentle smile, “Believe me when I tell you that I love your words, I love your ideas … and most of all, I love your intent, the strong and true intention that you have to lead a better life.” She paused here, adding as she shook her head, “Yet I changed as well, Jacob. I, in fact, am growing and changing every day and learning so much—about riding, about farming, about life. I want to do much before I get married, Jacob—I want to tend my own rose garden as opposed to just receiving roses as a gift. I want to grow food, not just cook it up for my man. And I want to continue to ride my horse as I lead my own riding club—not just take a casual trot from time to time in the company of my rancher husband and our pack of ten kids.”
She paused as Jacob met these last words with insanely wide eyes and a matching mouth.
“Ten?” he rasped out, grasping his own throat for comic effect as his guest guffawed in response.
“Actually, I am most pleased that you reacted that way,” she told him as she flashed him a spirited thumbs up sign, adding more seriously, “I am simply not yet ready Jacob, to be anyone’s wife—mail order or otherwise. And as much as I adore the children of our church—I even teach Sunday school as a substitute, several times a year—I am not yet prepared to have a youngin of my own. Let alone ten.” She finished with a smile.
Jacob thought a moment.
“Well, first let me clarify, Lorelei, that I want a wife—not a domestic servant,” he insisted, adding as he graced her with an encouraging smile, “I want you to continue on with your riding club. I want you to continue to read, learn and teach—and please consider me your most loyal student,” he insisted, adding as he inclined his head firmly in her direction, “all of those things are what make you so wondrous, my darling Lorelei.”
Grinning in spite of herself, Lorelei graced him with a good-natured nudge as she informed him, “You’re still a royal sweet talker, sure enough. And while I do envision you as the kind of man I would indeed like to marry someday, I am not quite ready to say I do—not quite yet, anyway.” She paused, looking him straight in the eyes as she emphasized, “I don’t want to be ordered like a piece of merchandise—I want to be courted.”
Jacob nodded.
“Well, that I can do,” he assured her, adding as he arched his eyebrows, “with pleasure, miss.”
Proving his words moments later, Jacob suggested that the two of them go for a ride, alone this time, and at a leisurely pace as
they lost themselves in the splendor of their natural surroundings.
Joining hands between them, they basked in the ethereal vision of towering hibiscus trees and tall, stately oak, heather strewn fields boasting lush gold ivory growths of sunflowers and daffodils, and—of course—the endless golden crops that sprang forth both roses and corn in equal measure.
“Absolutely beautiful place—one where I’d quite like to live someday,” she mused with a grin, adding as she raised a firm finger for emphasis, “only I must forewarn you. I do not and I will not shuck corn—under any circumstances.”
Jacob laughed.
“Not a problem, miss,” he conceded, adding as he inclined his head in her direction, “would you mind overmuch tending your own personal rose garden on this property? One in which you could reap and sow your own roses—also sowing any profit that you earn from the sale of those roses?”
Brightening immediately, Lorelei nodded with girlish glee as she considered this prospect.
“Oh, Jacob, I would love that idea,” she enthused, adding as she cast a longing gaze over a nearby bed of ebullient yellow florals that captured the beauty of the sun above, “I could keep a booth at market and call it Lorelei’s Roses.” She paused here, adding as she rolled her eyes heavenward, “I reckon that I’m a far sight better at farming than I am at naming businesses.”
Jacob guffawed outright.
“Not at all, Lorelei’s Roses sounds just amazing,” he assured her, adding as he arched his eyebrows to curious effect, “and how about a little side venture in addition, one called Lorelei’s Horses?”
Lorelei froze, bringing her own mount to a dead stand still as she processed these words.
“You mean to say I could raise and breed horses? A whole herd of them, all by my lonesome?” she marveled, adding as she pointed an authoritative finger straight in Jacob’s direction, “OK then, forget about the courtship. I hereby demand that you marry me. Now.”
Meeting these words with a gleeful beam, Jacob brought her hand to his warm, moist lips for a most gentlemanly kiss.
Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) Page 69