Mistaken Bride

by Renee Ryan

  He continued to stare at her.

  “He could have been feral,” she added.

  Will blinked very slowly, his silvery-pale eyes filled with strangled emotion as he took her hand in his. “Praise God he wasn’t.”

  “Yes, praise God.” Instead of pulling her hand free she braided her fingers through his.

  Something quite lovely passed between them, a moment of complete contentment that went beyond words. But instead of feeling delighted by the sensation, a wistful sadness crept through her. Will wanted the kind of wife she could never be for him, or for any man.

  She dropped her gaze and sighed. She would not—would not, would not, would not—allow herself to want what she could never have.

  Another moment passed and then someone shouted her name. “Bridget. Oh, Bridget, we have news. Good news.”

  Reluctantly pulling her hand free from Will’s comforting grip, Bridget turned toward an approaching wagon. Cameron Long and Nora and baby Grace had returned.

  Bridget had no doubt what that news was.

  She should be beside herself with joy. Yet the sight of her sister with that wide smile spread across her face roused the most curious reaction. Annoyance. She was actually annoyed Nora had returned at this very moment. The strange, unexpected reaction constricted her lungs and she thought impatiently, Why am I not more pleased?

  “Stop fretting, Bridget. Everything will work out fine.” Will punctuated his statement by reaching out and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. An immediate sense of relief spread through her entire body.

  She swallowed back her misgivings and looked up again, calling upon the faith that had brought her to this crucial moment in time. Bridget had been the most hopeful of all her sisters about this venture to America. She’d certainly felt the most confident when Nora and Maeve had wavered. Why was she not happier now?

  What was causing her reservation?

  Cameron pulled the wagon to a stop, nodded a silent greeting to Will, then smiled down at Bridget. “You will be pleased to know that all went according to plan.”

  She turned her gaze to Nora and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  “It’s true,” Nora said, her smile as radiant as Bridget had ever seen. “We own Laird O’Malley’s house, free and clear.”

  Feeling oddly placid by the news, Bridget nodded. “So the deed is legal.”

  “That’s what I just said.”

  At last—at last—Bridget’s stomach gave a delighted leap. “Oh, Nora, this is wonderful news.”

  “I was wondering when you’d say that.”

  Hopes and dreams tangled together in her mind, weaving into a beautiful tapestry of possibilities. Bridget paused to sort through one wonderful reality after another. For the first time in her life her future was secure.

  There was much work ahead, but she and Nora would be repairing their own home and toiling on their own land.

  It was all quite exciting.

  She was suddenly aware of the man standing beside her, his silent presence far more comforting than she would have thought possible from a man she’d only met three days ago. She turned to face him again.

  He smiled.

  “You will want to go with your sister and discuss your next step.” Although the words were uttered in a light vein, Will’s eyes were alert, questioning.

  “Not yet. The children will be expecting me.” More than that, she wanted to see them through their suppertime and then read to them before they went to bed. Somewhere during the day the twins had stopped being a duty and had become her joy.

  “Stay with your sister, Bridget. You have much to plan. I’ll tell the children where you’ve gone. They’ll understand.”

  Bridget wasn’t nearly as confident. But what bothered her most wasn’t what Will had just said but rather that he’d spoken in such a stunningly offhanded manner, as if he was used to making up other people’s minds for them.

  “No, Will. I appreciate the offer but I will return home with you.” She took a deep breath and held her ground. “And only leave once the children are in bed.”

  He opened to his mouth to argue.

  She cut him off with a raised hand. “And that’s the end of the matter.”

  There was a flash of something in his eyes, something akin to amusement, as though he’d just come to a sudden realization that was a welcome discovery. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you are safely returned to the boardinghouse after the children are settled for the night.”

  Now that they had come to an understanding, Bridget wanted to make sure Nora was comfortable with her decision. Not that it would matter, but she didn’t want her sister to feel abandoned. “You will be all right without me for a little while longer, yes?”

  “Go on, Bridget, and take care of your charges.” There was an odd note in her voice, an indulgent consideration that wasn’t typical for Nora. There were also questions in her eyes, none of which Bridget knew how to answer just yet. Suddenly, a few more hours with the Black family seemed very attractive.

  “We’ll talk later tonight,” she said in an even voice, hoping to send Nora on her way.

  “Yes, Bridget,” Nora replied, rearranging the baby in her arms. “We will talk later.” Now that was the tone Bridget expected from her older sister, the quiet warning that promised much would be discussed once the two of them were finally alone.

  When a heavy silence descended over their tiny group, Cameron took charge. He bid a friendly farewell to both Bridget and Will, and then asked if Nora was ready. She nodded.

  The wagon rolled away with Nora gazing back over her shoulder. The insistent look in her eyes was enough to give Bridget pause. But not enough to make her think she’d made a mistake by staying with Will. Putting him and the children ahead of her desire to make plans for her own future seemed the right thing to do.

  In that moment, she realized the Black family had already become a part of her heart. She prayed they didn’t break it.

  * * *

  Several hours later Will sat in a chair beside Caleb’s bed while Bridget’s lilting voice filled the room. She read from the twin’s favorite book, Mother Goose’s Melody.

  Will closed his eyes and listened. Her inflection was different than his mother’s had been when she’d read to him as a child, yet just as soothing. Transfixing, even.

  He opened his eyes and found himself watching Bridget’s lips move as she spoke. She was achingly beautiful and something tugged at his heart. A breeze fluttered the curtains, creating a soft, pleasant feel to an already tender moment. Will tried not to read too much into the situation. Bridget was reciting nursery rhymes to his children as part of her job, nothing more.

  Perched on the edge of Olivia’s bed, near the foot, book spread across her lap, Bridget paused, looked up and caught him watching her. Holding his gaze, she continued narrating the story of Mary and her little lamb. All the while her beautiful eyes searched his, her gaze full of profound gentleness. No woman had ever looked at him that way before, certainly not Fanny. He swallowed a wave of unease.

  She mercifully looked back to her book.

  On surprisingly unsteady legs Will quietly left the room. Two steps into the hallway his mother grabbed his arm. He started to speak but she shook her head and pulled him away from the children’s bedroom.

  There was no sound in the house except the distant melody of Bridget’s voice.

  “I don’t know where you found her, son, but that Bridget Murphy is a treasure.”

  He shot a look over his shoulder, a rueful affection filling him. “Yes, she is.”

  “She told me a little about how she ended up in Faith Glen. If you ask me—”

  “Whic
h I didn’t.”

  “If you ask me,” she repeated with deliberate slowness, “I’d say Bridget’s appearance at such a time as this is a sure sign the Lord has smiled on our family at last.”

  Will didn’t argue the point. Why would he? Hadn’t he already decided that Bridget was indeed a gift from God?

  Yet even as he silently admitted that he liked her, maybe even trusted her, discomfort spread through him.

  Bridget was not a permanent fixture in his home, nor would she ever be. Her position was only temporary and still on a trial basis. She could still change her mind at the end of the week, and there was nothing Will could do about it.

  Or was there?

  What if he gave her no reason to leave? What if he gave her every reason to stay?

  “…then she managed to coax Caleb into taking a nap, after she’d astonishingly convinced Olivia to hand over her unwanted crackers when Caleb had run out of his.”

  Will shook his head, only just realizing his mother had been speaking the entire time he’d been thinking about Bridget.

  “What did you just say?” He thought he heard something about a nap and crackers? Did Bridget let the twins eat crackers in their beds?

  “It was nothing important, just a little something about the children.” A knowing smile hovered on his mother’s lips, then spread into a grin as she looked over his shoulder. “Bridget, dear, are you finished reading already?”

  “I am. The children are sound asleep.”

  Hearing the satisfaction in her voice, Will turned around, hoping to get a glimpse of her smile. What he saw were drooping eyelids. “You’re tired.”

  “Only a little.” She released a soft laugh. What a wonderful sound, he thought, light and throaty. “I’ve had an amazing day.”

  Will liked knowing she’d found pleasure in her position with his family. “Let’s get you to the boardinghouse at once, or you’ll be too exhausted to return in the morning.”

  He lifted up a silent prayer that this woman would continue as his children’s nanny. And then another that she was as trustworthy as she seemed.

  After she said good-night to his mother, Will escorted Bridget outside then drew to a stop at the end of the walkway. “Wait here while I bring the carriage around.”

  She placed a hand to his arm. “It’s such a lovely evening, Will, and the boardinghouse is so close. Let’s walk.”

  “You aren’t too tired?”

  “Not at all. The fresh air has quite restored me.”

  “Well, then, Bridget, allow me to walk you home.”

  * * *

  Bridget and Will made their way down the lane in companionable silence, turning together at the bend. Enjoying the sounds of the night and the unique smells that were familiar yet also foreign, she took a deep breath. The same sweet scent she’d smelled that first carriage ride into town filled her nose. “That aroma, is it from your mill?”

  “It’s the chocolate syrup, the byproduct of the melted cocoa powder.” A smile tugged at his lips. “I’m so used to the smell I forget it’s there.”

  She suddenly wanted to know more about his work, about how he spent his days. “Tell me how you make chocolate.”

  As he described the process, she could picture him in his mill, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his powerful arms pouring cocoa beans between the millstones. She suspected he was a fair employer, one who expected the best out of his workers without demanding the impossible. When he explained the grueling process of heating the powder into syrup, she stopped him. “So you closed the mill early today because of the unbearable heat?”

  “Partly, yes.” He shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “But I also wanted to see how you and the children were making out.”

  “You mean you wanted to check on me.”

  “I did.” He paused a beat. “As well as the children and my mother.”

  Bridget wasn’t offended by his admission—well, only a little. A man like William Black would want to ensure his loved ones were in good hands. How could she find fault in that? “You care very much for your family.”

  “I do.” His tone was light but his eyes had taken on a very serious gleam. This was a man who would sacrifice everything for his family, even his life. Once again she experienced a strong desire to be cherished so completely, to enjoy the same care and concern that Will bestowed upon his kin. Earlier, he’d stepped up to protect her, but that had likely just been chivalry. What would it be like to have his devotion, his love?

  Did she want those things from him, in particular, or would any man do?

  It was a question she shouldn’t ask herself, not now. Perhaps not ever. Will had made his intentions clear. Perhaps the death of his wife had left no more room in his heart for romantic love again.

  Bridget looked down at her feet, swallowed three times, each time the beating of her heart grew louder in her head.

  “We’re here.”

  She looked up, having lost track of their route. “So we are.”

  Will set a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Thank you, Bridget.” He reached up and touched her cheek. “Thank you for giving my children a lovely day and my mother a much-needed break.”

  Compelled, she leaned into his hand, trying not to sigh. It was all quite disturbing, this pull she felt for a man she hardly knew.

  “It was a joy working in your home today,” she said, desperately needing to remind herself she was this man’s employee.

  He dropped his hand to his side. “Would you like me to fetch you in the morning?”

  What a lovely offer and completely unnecessary. “No. I can walk the two-and-a-half blocks on my own.”

  He took a step away from her. The added distance between them felt like a chasm. “Then I will see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Will.”

  “Good night.”

  As she watched him turn and leave, Bridget remembered she was working for him only on a trial basis.

  Why had she made such a condition? She didn’t want to leave his employ. She adored the twins, and Esther, too. The thought of walking away from any of them—or from Will—brought physical pain.

  There was a simple solution to the problem. She would give Will no reason to ask her to leave. She would make herself so indispensible he wouldn’t be able to live without her.

  Smiling at the thought, she turned and walked up the boardinghouse steps. She froze midway. Nora was waiting for her. “You just missed Flynn and Maeve.”

  “I’m sorry for that. How are they faring?”

  “As well as two blissfully in love people can manage.”

  Bridget smiled. “The poor dears.”

  Nora laughed. “Flynn is considering the idea of opening a medical practice in Faith Glen and maybe even building a house so he and Maeve can be closer to us.”

  “Oh, Nora.” Bridget clasped her hands together in excitement. They’d talked of this before, of Flynn and Maeve eventually making Faith Glen their home. But to hear it confirmed made Bridget’s heart fill with joy. “That’s wonderful news.”

  No longer smiling, Nora acknowledged her words with a distracted nod. “They plan to return for another visit Sunday afternoon. Flynn wants to check out Laird O’Malley’s house before we move in.”

  “You mean our house.”

  “Yes.” Nora nodded in satisfaction. “Our house.”

  “That’s very kind of him.” Bridget relaxed, but just as she commandeered the last step uneasiness stirred within her. Nora was alone.

  “Where’s Grace?” She caught her breath inside a gasp. “Did Maeve take her? Has someone come forward to claim her?”

  “No, no.” Nora waved off her concern with a flick of her wrist. “Rose is watching the
baby.”

  Confused, Bridget continued forward, walking through the shadows that were dark pools of gray at her feet. “Why is Rose watching Grace at this late hour?”

  “I wanted to talk to you, Bridget, without any chance of distractions cutting off our conversation.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  “Has something happened since we last saw one another?” Her mind went immediately to the deed, then shot to the house, rounded back toward the elderly caretakers. “Is it the house? The Coulters? The deed itself?”

  “Come, Bridget.” Nora took her arm and directed her to one of the rocking chairs. “Sit.”

  She did as requested, primarily because she had no other choice. Nora was pressing down on her shoulders.

  She landed on the seat with a plop.

  Towering over her, Nora planted her fists on her hips and scowled.

  Bridget shuddered at the look in her sister’s eyes. A lecture was in the making and, quite frankly, she wasn’t in the mood. She’d had a long day, a happy one but long nonetheless. All she wanted to do was go to bed and relive the precious moments in her mind.

  Bridget leveled a challenging gaze on her sister. “Out with it, Nora.”

  “I want to talk to you about William Black.”

  Bridget pretended surprise, then adopted an innocent expression. “Why do you want to talk about my employer?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. You’ve been uncommonly concerned with his situation, and that worries me.”

  Bristling, Bridget jerked her chin. “He’s had a rough go of it lately.”

  “I realize that.” Nora lowered in front of her and placed her hands on Bridget’s knees. “You like him, don’t you?”

  “He’s a good man,” she allowed, refusing to give her sister any more ammunition than necessary. “And a fair boss.”

  “That’s right. You’re his children’s nanny, Bridget. You need to remember that very important point.”

  “What are you implying?” It was a rhetorical question. They both knew what Nora meant.

  Sighing, Nora settled in the chair next to her and began rocking. They were both quiet a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.