Mistaken Bride

by Renee Ryan

  “Bridget.” Nora took her hand and squeezed. “You give your heart so freely. Too freely, I fear. After what Daniel did to you, I couldn’t bear watching you go through that pain again.”

  The mention of her former fiancé took her by surprise and she flinched. “What does Daniel have to do with Will?”

  “Everything.” Nora released her hand. “You were devastated for months after he left you at the altar.”

  Of course she’d been devastated. She’d planned to make a life with Daniel McGrath. She’d thought he’d shared her same hopes and dreams, as well as her desire to serve the Lord. She’d been wrong, so terribly wrong. Daniel hadn’t wanted Bridget to serve the Lord; he’d wanted her to serve him.

  She still wasn’t sure what hurt more. His rejection or the way he’d broken things off, minutes before the ceremony.

  “That was a year ago, Nora. I’m fine, now.” As soon as the words left her mouth Bridget realized they were true. She wasn’t devastated by Daniel’s change of heart, not anymore. In fact, had she married him she wouldn’t have left Ireland. She wouldn’t have met Will and his family. She wouldn’t—

  “I don’t want to see you hurt again,” Nora reiterated, shoving her hair off her face. “Daniel was a selfish man, only concerned with his own interests. I fear your new employer is no different.”

  “Will is nothing like Daniel.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “No.” She shook her head vehemently. “You have no right making assumptions like that. Will cares for his family and puts their needs above his own.” That alone made him different from Daniel.

  “What about your needs, Bridget? Does he put your needs first?”

  It was an unfair question. “I’m his children’s nanny, my needs aren’t important.”

  “Oh, but they are. Bridget, listen to me.” Nora’s mouth tightened. “You’ve always put others first, yourself last.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Aren’t we supposed to be humble and consider others better than ourselves? Isn’t that the message in your favorite Bible verse, Philippians 2:3?”

  By Nora’s scowl, Bridget knew she’d hit her mark. “I won’t deny that your tender, giving spirit is your greatest gift. But I see the way you are with William Black, the way you look at him. Bridget, you’re headed for another heartache.”

  Now Bridget was angry. Nora had no right to lecture her on this matter. She didn’t know all the facts. “I’ll not quit my job because of something that may or may not happen in the future. No—” she held up her hand to keep her sister from interrupting “—let me finish.”

  Nora clamped her lips tightly shut.

  “I’ve made a promise to William Black to care for his motherless children until he can find another woman to marry. I will follow through with my promise.” And if she harbored a secret hope, deep in a hidden place in her heart, that things might work out differently, well that was none of her sister’s concern.

  Feeling the tiniest bit guilty for holding back a portion of the truth, Bridget rose from the chair and lifted her nose in the air. “And that’s the end of it. I’ll not discuss this again with you, Nora.”

  Finished having her say, she marched toward the boardinghouse, head still high. No one told Bridget Murphy she was wrong to serve a family in need. Not even her older sister.

  “Bridget, wait.”

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

  “Don’t you want to talk about our new house and all we have ahead of us? We need to plan our next step and we need to do so together.”

  Nora wasn’t exactly apologizing for her meddling, but Bridget knew the change of subject was an olive branch nonetheless.

  It was also the perfect topic to erase Bridget’s annoyance. Excited about the possibilities that lay ahead of them, she returned to her abandoned rocking chair. “I have some initial thoughts.”

  Nora smiled. “I’d love to hear them.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hoping to catch Will before he left for the day, Bridget arrived at his house early the next morning. She caught him on the front stoop, just as he pulled two sleepy-eyed children into his arms. Laughing at something Caleb mumbled in his ear, he kissed them both on their tiny heads.

  Caught up in the moment, Bridget’s throat clogged with emotion. The unmistakable love and affection in Will’s voice as he told his children to mind their new nanny made the backs of her eyes sting. She placed her fingertips to her eyelids and swallowed hard, praying the moment would pass before any of them noticed her watching them.

  Too late. Olivia shrieked her name. “Miss Bridget, you’re here!”

  Straightening, Will pivoted around to face her. His lips spread into a welcoming smile.

  Her reaction was immediate. Everything ground to a halt inside her, her breath, her heartbeat, her ability to think. And then an ache of longing tore through her, one that nearly brought her to her knees.

  Bridget was a talker by nature, or, at least, she’d always thought that to be true about herself. But around this man, with his marvelous eyes and intense love for his children, she found herself speechless all too often. Today was no exception.

  Caleb rescued her as he sped around his father and catapulted himself into her arms. She had to move quickly to keep from dropping him. Bobbling under his additional weight, she laughed. “Hello, Caleb.”

  The little boy rubbed his cheek against her shoulder. “Good morning, Miss Bridget.” So heartfelt, so sweet.

  “I think he likes you,” Will said over her head.

  “It’s a mutual affection.”

  He chuckled. “I see that.”

  Setting the child on the ground, she smiled up at her new boss. She felt an actual impact when their gazes met. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  “You are?” His voice sounded pleased.

  “My sister and I have decided to move into Laird O’Malley’s house, I mean our house, Sunday afternoon.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to inform him of her plans. He was only her employer. His confused expression indicated he was wondering the same thing. She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I just wanted you to know I don’t plan to ask for a day off.”

  “I would have given it to you if you’d asked.”

  Of course he would have. “Nevertheless.” She smiled despite her nerves. “I thought you should know.”

  “Thank you.” He reached down and picked up a large leather case that she guessed was designed to house important papers. “I’ll be home early again tonight.”

  And with that he was striding away from them, tossing one last goodbye over his shoulder.

  Staring after him, her throat thick with emotion, Bridget smoothed a hand down her hair and breathed in deeply.

  Caleb yanked on her skirt, practically vibrating with little-boy eagerness. “What are we going to do today? Can we play tag?”

  Not to be left out of the planning, Olivia pulled on Bridget’s skirt from the other side. “I want to see the baby again, the one you had with you at church.”

  After much discussion and a bit of arguing between the twins it was decided they would do both, a rousing game of tag followed by a short visit to the Sheriff’s Office to see how Nora and baby Grace were coping. “But before we start the fun and games we’re going to march back inside, eat our breakfast and then practice our letters.”

  A chorus of mild-mannered grumbles followed her statement, but they obeyed.

  By the time they were on the road to Nora’s place of employment, Bridget had learned several interesting things about her new charges. They had exceptional patience for three-year-olds, never once fidgeting during their lesson, and their minds were like sponges. They remembered whatever she taught them after the first telling. The B
lack children were a pleasure to teach.

  Holding their hands, Bridget drew up short at the sight that filled her gaze. A familiar young man was talking to Sheriff Long on the walkway outside the jail.

  What was Gavin McCorkle doing in Faith Glen? He was supposed to be in Boston with his brothers and Mrs. Fitzwilliam. Had something happened? No, he didn’t appear upset. He was quite animated, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke.

  “Gavin? Gavin McCorkle?” She closed the distance between them. “Is that really you?”

  “Miss Bridget.” His face split into a grin, his blue eyes enormous in his freckled face. “I was just telling the sheriff about our journey across the ocean with you and your sisters. And he was telling me about your new jobs.”

  He paused, looked down. His grin widened. “This must be Caleb and Olivia Black.”

  “You know our names?” Caleb asked, his round little face full of wonder.

  “I sure do.”

  “You talk like Miss Bridget. Did you come over on a ship, too? Like this one?” Caleb lifted the boat in his hand.

  “Would you look at that?” Gavin gave a low, appreciative whistle. “It’s the Annie McGee herself.”

  Caleb giggled, clearly delighted by the attention from the older boy. While he rattled off the various points of interest on the model boat he now knew by heart, Bridget looked over at Cameron Long.

  The sheriff was leaning against a post in a leisurely manner, seemingly relieved Gavin was otherwise occupied. She hid a smile. From what she remembered of the oldest McCorkle brother, Gavin could be very enthusiastic when telling a story.

  “Hello, Cameron,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile.

  He tipped his hat. “Bridget, always a pleasure.”

  “Is my sister inside?”

  “Yep.” He pushed away from the post and gave Olivia an awkward pat on the head. “Nora’s tidying the jail.”

  “Oh.” Bridget hadn’t fully thought through this impromptu visit and now she wasn’t sure she should expose the children to an actual jailhouse.

  “The jail cells are empty.” He lowered his voice for her ears only. “Olivia and Caleb have been inside before.”

  “Well, then,” she breathed in an audible sigh of relief, “very good.”

  Deciding she’d been ignored long enough, Olivia scooted in between Bridget and the sheriff. “Is baby Grace inside, too?”

  “She sure is,” he confirmed with a slightly caged look. The man really was uncomfortable around children.

  “Can we go see the baby now?” Olivia pleaded. “Please? Oh, please?”

  “In a moment.” Bridget placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You’ll have to be patient a little while longer.”

  Lower lip jutting out, Olivia gave a long-suffering sigh then plopped onto the bench outside the jailhouse, her doll cradled in her arms.

  “As nice as it is to see you, I have to run out to the Phelps’s place before lunch.” Cameron looked down at Olivia then lowered his voice even further. “Mrs. Phelps claims someone tried to break into her barn last night.”

  Bridget swallowed back a gasp. “I thought you said this was a peaceful community.”

  “It is.” He gave her an assuring smile. “She probably heard a raccoon rustling around, or maybe a stray dog.”

  Remembering the skittish animal she and Will had come across last evening, Bridget relaxed. “That makes sense.”

  He tipped his hat again, said goodbye to Gavin and the children, then was gone.

  Once he turned the corner, Bridget returned her attention to the oldest McCorkle brother. “Gavin,” she said softly. “I still don’t know what you’re doing in Faith Glen.”

  Smiling at Caleb, he handed the toy back to the boy then stood to address Bridget’s question. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam sent me to find out how you and Miss Nora are settling into your new home.”

  Although the widow’s interest in them was heartwarming, it made little sense. Yes, they’d created a bond aboard ship, but the older woman was far above the Murphy sisters’ station. “I half expected her to forget us by now.”

  “No, don’t say that, Miss Bridget. Don’t even think it.” Gavin shook his head vehemently. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam has been very worried about all of you, even baby Grace. I’m not to return home without a full report.”

  Home. Bridget couldn’t help but smile. The way Gavin said the word alleviated any remaining doubts she might have had about the boy’s future.

  “I’m also to let you know,” he continued, “that she’s successfully hired a private detective to search for Mary.”

  “Oh. Yes, of course.” Bridget’s cheeks grew warm. She’d been so caught up in her own life she’d nearly forgotten about Mrs. Fitzwilliam’s worry over her missing stepgranddaughter. “Has she had news, then?”

  “None, so far.” Gavin broke eye contact a moment. “It seems the girl has vanished into thin air.”

  “How disappointing.”

  “Yes, very.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Bridget watched Caleb set his boat beside his sister then jump from one plank to the next, reciting the alphabet as he went.

  “But Mrs. Fitzwilliam has hired the best detective in Boston. We’re very hopeful she’ll find Mary soon.”

  Gavin sounded as concerned as his benefactor. Mrs. Fitzwilliam had obviously taken the McCorkle brothers into her heart, but so had they taken her into theirs. It was a lovely ending to a rocky beginning for all four of them.

  “You are looking very well, Gavin.” She paused to eye his clothing. The trousers and shirt were a far better quality than the ones he and his brothers had worn aboard the Annie McGee.

  Blushing under the inspection, Gavin scuffed the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. “Mrs. Fitzwilliam has been very good to me and my brothers.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “She’s even gone so far as to enroll me in school,” he said, sighing heavily, his tone falling short of pleased. “She says it’s important I better myself with an education.”

  “That seems like wise advice,” Bridget said carefully, not sure what she heard in his voice. “Gavin, do you not wish to attend school?”

  He shrugged. “I was never good with books. I’d rather be a lawman—” he looked over his shoulder in the direction Cameron had taken out of town “—maybe even a sheriff one day.”

  It took little imagination for Bridget to picture Gavin in the role. The boy had a very strong sense of right and wrong and knew how to protect others, as evidenced by the care he’d given his younger brothers. Yes, she could see him one day becoming a deputy. “Have you told Mrs. Fitzwilliam any of this?”

  “A hundred times.” He shrugged again. “She won’t listen, says I’m far too smart to waste time on such a lowly endeavor.”

  Now that sounded like the high-handed widow Bridget remembered. Before she could comment any further Caleb hopped onto the plank next to Gavin, stopping mere inches from slamming into him. “I know how to say the entire alphabet,” he declared, his little chest puffed out with pride. “Want to hear?”

  Gavin ruffled his hair, seemingly fine with the change of topic. “Sure do.”

  Three verses later, minus a few letters in the middle, Bridget decided it was time to move along. “Come, children. You, too, Gavin. Let’s find out how my sister and baby Grace are making out.”

  “At last.” Olivia hopped to her feet, her eyes thrilled. The little girl was the first to enter the building, the rest of their tiny group following closely behind.

  * * *

  Since the first day Bridget had begun working in his home, Will had found a multitude of reasons to alter his daily routine. He’d closed the mill hours ahead of schedule—and only partial
ly because of the stifling heat. He’d returned twice under the guise of having left important papers behind. He’d eventually quit making excuses and journeyed home to eat lunch with Bridget and the rest of his family.

  And thus, as the noon hour approached on the fifth day of Bridget’s employment, Will walked home with a smile on his face. Today was the end of her one-week trial. He would definitely be asking her to stay on.

  Whistling the song she’d taught the children last night, he headed for the front door. Childish giggles dancing on the wind had him redirecting his steps toward the backyard. A familiar bark had him increasing his pace to a dead run.

  When Will rounded the side of the house he froze.

  Happy chaos reigned in the backyard of the Black home. It wasn’t long before a laugh bubbled in his throat, begging for release. He let it come, let it flow out of him with welcome force.

  Bridget had somehow managed to entice the mangy mutt they’d encountered earlier in the week into a tub of soapy water. The dog splashed around, tossing his head in the air, sending suds flying.

  In their attempt to help, the children were as wet as the animal. Even Bridget hadn’t escaped the madness. Her dress was half-soaked while her hair clung in wet tendrils around her face. She’d never looked more beautiful.

  He watched her try to form some semblance of order amidst the bedlam. Or rather she tried and failed. Somehow, he didn’t think she meant to succeed.

  Will wanted to join the fun, but he wasn’t sure adding another person to the fray was wise.

  The dog settled the matter by jumping out of the tub and barreling straight for him. There was only time for impressions before his arms were filled with wet, wiggling fur. If an animal could smile, Will was certain this one was doing so, a big, loopy grin that included a hanging tongue. The same tongue that swiped across his face.

  He laughed again. His suit was probably ruined, but all he could think was: She’s done it again. Bridget has charmed yet another unsuspecting creature. At this rate the whole town would be under her influence in a month.