by Caroline Lee
“That’s because no one likes you, brat.” The boy who’d followed them exhaled heavily as he placed a bag down on top of the trunk and straightened to glare at Matthias. He didn’t even notice his little sister sticking her tongue out at him.
Matthias was a little taken aback, and slowly straightened from his ridiculous pose. “Joshua?” he asked quietly, wondering what he’d done to upset the boy so soon.
Joshua’s jaw tightened, and he looked remarkably like his mother when he stuck his chin out and continued to glare. In fact, he had his mother’s same brown eyes, and the same look of old fear—
No, not fear. In Joshua’s eyes, that same look had turned to defiance and anger. But both of them were scared of something, and Matthias vowed he’d figure out what it was, and would overcome it.
When the boy didn’t answer, Matthias took a deep breath and held out his hand, the one not currently holding his hat. “I’m Matthias Blake.” When Joshua still didn’t respond, Matthias cleared his throat. “When another man introduces himself, a gentleman should do the same,” he prompted gently.
Joshua’s eyes flicked to his mother, then back to Matthias. Finally, he exhaled in a huff, obviously embarrassed at having to be reminded of his proper manners, and offered his own hand for a shake. “Joshua Hembree,” he said grudgingly.
His handshake was weak. Matthias noticed Joshua’s hands were lithe and pale, like the rest of him, and that fact, combined with the anger in the boy’s eyes, made Matthias wonder if his dream of sharing his love of horses and his livery with his son would actually come true.
“Joshua.” Abigail’s voice was quiet but firm when she placed her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Please take your sister to watch the train depart.”
The boy turned a questioning glance towards his mother, and it was interesting to watch them communicate without words. Abigail’s brows went up slightly, Joshua scowled and flicked his eyes towards Matthias. His mother smiled gently and tipped her chin down, as if confirming something, and the boy sighed heavily.
“Come on, brat. Let’s go count the locomotive’s wheels again.”
Maggie lowered the flowers. “Can I climb it again?”
“After the glare Mother sent you last time when you scuffed your shoes?”
“Yay!” The little girl seemed to take the reminder as permission.
“Come on, brat.”
Joshua reached for his sister’s hand, and Matthias was interested to see that Maggie didn’t seem irritated by the nickname. In fact, it was said almost lovingly, and she skipped alongside her brother towards the train that was making ready to leave again.
Matthias watched them go a little worriedly. Maggie wasn’t really going to climb the locomotive, was she? Not if it was about to begin moving? Surely Joshua would prevent her from doing anything silly?
He glanced at their mother. “Should I go with them? To prevent any accidents?”
For the first time since he’d seen her, her lips curved upwards in a gentle, but still regal, smile. “He dotes on her and will probably take better care of her than either of us could.”
The admission made Matthias feel better, and he exhaled gratefully. But that’s when it hit him, suddenly. He was standing there, alone with her, and they hadn’t even officially met yet. His hat managed to find its way in front of him, until he was worrying the brim in both hands.
What do I say?
Apparently nothing, as it turned out, since she took the initiative.
“Thank you for reminding Joshua of his manners, Mr. Blake. I’m sorry we weren’t formally introduced.”
“Please, call me Matthias. You’re Abigail?”
She dipped her chin in agreement, but he didn’t like the way her gaze stayed locked onto his chin. Why? Was she scared to look him in the eye now that they’d been introduced?
The uncertainty was killing him. Tightening his grip on his hat with his left hand, he reached out with his other and grabbed her hand. She was startled, judging by the way she sucked in her breath and her unusual eyes met his briefly, before flashing away. She stiffened as well, and didn’t relax one bit. If anything, as he stepped closer, she became even more rigid.
He couldn’t tell if it was him, or something else, which was causing her reaction. Was it the fact he was a man in general? Or was it because he, a complete stranger, was due to become her husband in a very short amount of time?
Swallowing, he knew he had to say something—do something—to put her at ease. But what?
“I’m really pleased to meet you, Abigail,” he said softly. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”
“Why?”
Matthias opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say was lost as her question caught up with his brain.
Why?
Why was he looking forward to meeting her? Or why was he marrying her in the first place?
“Because your letters—”
“No.” She glanced at him, then straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “I mean, why did you send off for a bride?”
Was this really the time to confess the things he held so deeply in his heart?
Don’t be ridiculous, you just met the woman!
But still, Matthias knew he needed to do something. If he didn’t share his feelings, he might not have the chance to ever again, as it was clear she was very scared of something.
He took a deep breath and tightened his hold on her hand.
“Because more than anything,” he said in a lowered voice and waited until her eyes widened slightly, “I wanted to be a father.”
It was a gamble. Maybe confessing to your bride-to-be that you weren’t marrying her for her at all was a stupid move.
But as her lovely eyes widened further, her shoulders sagged slightly, and her expression seemed to open up more than it had since the moment he'd first seen her, Matthias knew he’d made the right decision. In fact, her fingers tightened slightly around his, as if she was trying to share a part of herself, however small, with him.
In that instant, he felt a warmth, a spark, where their skin touched. The heat flowed up his arm, and suddenly, he began to regret wearing his best suit out here in the summer sun. It hadn’t been bad before, but now, he wanted nothing more than to strip off his jacket and vest, open up his collar, and breathe deeply.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with the summer sun, and everything to do with the woman in front of him.
A woman who, now that she was looking up at him in something between surprise and—dare he say it?—affection, was downright beautiful.
“Abigail? Why did you answer my letters?”
He expected her to answer something about the children. After all, didn’t all mothers want stable homes for their children?
Instead though, she cocked her head to one side and said:
“Because I want my own school. You said Black Aces needs a teacher, and I’m here to teach.”
Ah. Well, she’d never made a secret of that, though he’d hoped…
And then she smiled up at him, and whatever nebulous thing Matthias had been hoping for, coalesced into one shining crystal in his heart. He hoped, and that was good enough.
He caught his breath, and squeezed her fingers once more. To his joy, she returned his squeeze.
“Well, Mrs. Hembree?” He jammed his hat back on his head. “Shall we go visit the preacher?”
Maybe he was rushing things. Maybe she’d rather rest, or get cleaned up, or wait to get to know him better. But Matthias figured now was as good a time as any, and putting off what they planned to do wasn’t going to help anything. So he’d gambled again, and held his breath, waiting to see how she’d respond.
To his disappointment, his question caused her to close up on herself again. Her shoulders hunched, her hand went limp in his, and she was staring at his chin again. In fact, that same fear flickered in her eyes once more, and his heart plummeted. He’d screwed up. He’d gambled and los
t.
But to his surprise, she took a deep breath and said quietly, still without looking at him, “Alright, Mr. Blake.”
Matthias, he wanted to correct her. But she’d agreed, and suddenly he didn’t want to dally. He wanted to get her down to the church and get Reverend Trapper to bless their marriage, before she could change her mind.
He wanted her as his wife. Then he could address this fear he’d seen in both her and Joshua. Then he could begin to understand why the thought of marrying him made her scared. Then he could start convincing her he’d spend the rest of his life honoring and cherishing her and her children.
And maybe, possibly, someday…she’d come to love him as much as he wanted to love her.
Chapter Five
The hot Montana sun beat down on the top of Abigail’s shoulders, but at least her best Sunday bonnet protected her head. She’d made sure to keep it unpacked and ready to wear today when she met her groom—
No. Matthias Blake was her husband now.
Her husband, who walked beside her now, his head high as he escorted her through the small town of Black Aces to his home. It was as if he was proud to have her on his arm.
Was he truly proud of her place in his life? Had Cyrus ever been proud of her? Maybe he’d been proud he’d married her—she’d been quite beautiful when she’d been younger—but she was sure he had never actually been proud of her.
But Mr. Bla—Matthias looked at her as if she was still beautiful. As if he was proud of her.
It was the way he looked at her which had made Abigail’s resolve weaken. She’d gotten off that train intending to ask him for time. Time to get to know him, time to delay the wedding. Time to ensure he wasn’t like Cyrus.
But he’d looked at her as if she was the answer to his prayers, and her breath had caught. Cyrus had been good at seeming, especially when he’d been courting her. But there’d been a look in Matthias’s hazel eyes which she’d never seen before.
Hope.
He looked at her with hope.
And then when he’d taken her hand! When they’d touched, she felt something she hadn’t felt in many years; a warmth, an attraction she almost didn’t recognize. In fact, walking beside him now, her hand on his arm, she still felt an undeniable attraction to this handsome man.
Maybe the warmth spreading through her wasn’t entirely from the sun.
She peeked over her shoulder to ensure Joshua was still behind them. Matthias had asked him to drive the small wagon containing their trunks so he could “escort his wife.” The boy had scowled at his new stepfather. He hadn’t replied in any way, but still swung his sister up onto the bench and climbed up beside her. Matthias had stared at him a moment in concern, before sighing slightly, and turning away from the church.
She’d been surprised his friend Lucas—they’d been introduced briefly—hadn’t stayed after standing in as a witness at the ceremony. But he’d just tipped his hat, shaken Joshua’s hand, then smiled at Matthias as he’d left.
Matthias hadn’t watched him go.
When Joshua caught her checking on him, he nodded once to let her know he was okay. Maggie was already up on her knees beside him, holding onto his shoulder as she peered behind them at the town rolling by. She was still holding the slightly wilted bouquet, the presentation of which had melted Abigail’s heart in that first minute on the station platform. If a man could bring her daughter flowers, was he anything like Cyrus?
Joshua scowled when he saw her still staring, and she wasn’t sure if that was his way of telling her he was fine, or if he was expressing his anger at her decision. The boy just clucked at the mule between the traces and plodded along behind the newlyweds.
Newlyweds.
Abigail turned forward once more, and as she did, she caught her new husband’s eye. He smiled.
Matthias really was remarkably handsome, which surprised her. She wondered if other women saw what she saw; a wide jaw and sandy hair, already going gray at the temples and down into his trimmed beard. Hazel eyes which seemed to smile with the rest of his face. Muscular shoulders and chest, with gentle hands.
Did they think he was handsome? Or did she only think that because of the way his touch affected her? Or perhaps she’d read his letters and gotten to know him before meeting him?
“Why have you never married?” she blurted out.
Before she had a chance to wince at her own awkwardness, his smile grew. He was still smiling as he resumed their stroll through her new town.
“I never found anyone I wanted to ask, and never had much interest in marriage. But about a year and a half ago, I almost died—remember me writing about that to you?” He waited for her nod, then continued, “I was lying there, and I realized what I wanted more than anything else was to have children. To have the chance to help them grow into adults, to share my interests and love with them.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders moving in interesting ways. “Never realized that before that moment, and I promised myself if I got better, I’d make it happen. I fought hard, and obviously lived, and realized there was no one here for me. So I decided I’d look to see if there were some kids out there who needed a father as much as I needed them.”
He didn’t look at her then, thank God. If he had, Abigail wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide the tears in her eyes. He’d chosen her—he’d married her—because of her children. Instead of being hurt by his confession, she was reassured by it. Yes, reassured.
But her babies didn’t need a father, did they?
Still, his response reminded her of his words only hours ago at the station. She’d asked him why he’d sent off for a bride and he’d said, “Because more than anything, I wanted to be a father.” Those words had calmed her fear, and changed her plans.
So instead of trying to figure out how to ask him for more time before she married him, she’d remembered Wiggie’s words:
A man who’ll honor you and cherish your children.
If this man could cherish her children, could he also honor her?
So she’d said yes, and now she was walking beside her new husband, in her new town, towards her new house, praying she’d made the right decision.
Soon after they’d turned left on Bluff Street, Matthias’s stride lengthened, and she had to hurry to keep up. The dust from the road flew up, choking her in her high-necked blouse. Before she could complain, however, he pulled her to a stop.
“Welcome home,” he said, pride evident in his voice.
They were standing in front of a brand-new house, the one he’d written to her about. It was two-stories, set back from the road a bit, with a large porch on the front. It didn’t look quite finished—there were no railings, and the yard was just plain dirt—but it was really rather lovely.
When she didn’t say anything right away, he sucked in a breath.
“I know it might not look like much, especially compared to the fancy homes in New York, and I know it’s not completely finished. I’ll work on the porch and those shutters before the fall, but I think the garden might have to wait until next spring, when we can—”
For some reason, she hated hearing him ramble, hated hearing his uncertainty. She placed her free hand on his arm and his mouth snapped closed. When he looked at her, the uncertainty was still there. She smiled softly.
“Why don’t you show us inside?”
It was almost funny how quickly he leaped at her suggestion. He dropped her hands to grab the mule’s reins from Joshua, and led the animal and the wagon into the yard. He lifted his arms to help Maggie down, but instead of placing her on her own two feet, he sat her on his hip as if she were a baby. Abigail was surprised when Maggie—her feet sticking out from Matthias’s hips at odd angles—wrapped her arms around his neck and peered up at the house.
Then her husband offered her his arm once more, and the three of them climbed up the steps to the house, Joshua trailing behind.
Inside was simple, but livable, with a fine modern kitchen. On the table sat a wr
apped dinner, courtesy of Matthias’s friends, he explained. There was even a tall chair in the corner, which he said he’d made especially for Maggie. When the little girl heard that, she demanded to be put down, climbed the chair, and stood on one foot on the seat.
While Abigail glared in disapproval, Matthias just laughed, and went to lift the little monkey down.
Abigail trailed her hand across the brand-new stovetop, wondering if she remembered how to cook a man’s favorite dishes. Cyrus had demanded prompt meals from her, and there’d been a time she’d enjoyed cooking. But in her years at the orphanage, she hadn’t had to cook much, since the teachers had all taken turns. Her mouth watered slightly as she remembered Xenia’s fresh-baked breads, Nellie’s pies, Katriona’s candied yams—with molasses, cinnamon, and nutmeg!—and Olivia’s absolutely to-die-for cinnamon rolls for special holiday breakfasts.
Yes, she could do this. She could cook again!
Seeing the inside of her new house—her home—lifted some of the exhaustion from Abigail’s shoulders, and she noticed Joshua was also looking around with a lot more interest than he’d shown up ‘til now. While Matthias gave Maggie a tour of the kitchen and parlor, she took Joshua’s hand and they climbed the stairs together.
At the top, there were four bedrooms. One was tiny and completely empty, and was adjoined to a larger room which Matthias had obviously been living in. Abigail felt odd being there without him, so she just stuck her head in the door to study the large bed with the neat quilt smoothed on top of it, the two windows with cheerful red curtains, and the two lovely new chests of drawers. There was space for her trunks and knickknacks, and even hooks for her gowns, over beside the painted screen in the corner.
It was a serviceable, welcoming room, but nothing compared to what they saw next.
“Mama?” Joshua only called her that when he forgot he was supposed to be a big boy. “Is this my room?” he asked in a whisper.
It was another small room, which held a single bed with a blue-and-red quilt and some hooks on the wall beside a window looking out over the street in front. Joshua wandered reverently into the room and picked up the baseball and glove sitting on the window sill.