by Davis, Mary
Allison raised her eyebrows. “It sounds to me like you are trying to talk yourself into this.”
“I am not! I just feel bad for him coming all this way for nothing.”
“It doesn’t hurt that he is the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome gentleman. May I emphasize the tall part. You’d not find another man like him if you searched the rest of your life. He has a lot to offer a woman. He has a lot to offer you.”
“I’m not interested in—”
“You are too,” she interrupted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But that is neither here nor there. He’s probably left town by now.”
Cinda didn’t tell her friend she was sure he hadn’t. If he had left straight from Allison’s when David turned him down for her, he could have. But he waited to hear the bad news from her. She was sure the next train wouldn’t be until tomorrow, probably not until the afternoon. She also didn’t tell her friend she was on her way over to see him.
She left Allison’s more confused than when she arrived. Was she the right woman for Lucas Rawlings? When she again tried to imagine him with someone else, like Eve or Vivian, the pang of jealousy startled her. Why did she keep thinking of herself being with Lucas? Was it a leading from her heavenly Father. No! This couldn’t be from God—just her confused imagination playing tricks on her. She might have a few wayward emotions, but one thing was for sure, she was not marrying Mr. Rawlings.
seven
Tomorrow’s train was not soon enough for Lucas. He had just come from the station to find out when the next train would leave. He entered his hotel room, shed his coat, and flung it to the floor. Next he shucked off the tight suit pants and slipped into a comfortable pair of Levi’s.
He bathed and washed the grease from his hair. He hated having his hair slicked down, but it was necessary to keep his wavy hair out of his eyes and under control. He normally liked to run his hand through his hair, but he wouldn’t touch it with that junk in it. He had been an idiot running around for two days in a suit with that stuff in his hair after a woman who probably never had any intention of marrying him.
The whole trip was a waste of time. He should have known he couldn’t pull it off. At least one good thing had come from today—he wouldn’t have to wear those tight suits or put grease in his hair again. He ran his hands through his hair just because he could. His room was warm, so he took off his shirt and stood by his open window to breath in the fresh air. He couldn’t wait to get back to the wide-open space of Montana.
Where had he gone wrong? He had worn his best clothes so the lady wouldn’t think him uncivilized. He slicked back his hair so she wouldn’t think he was unkempt. He was a gentleman and acted politely, and he was sure he hadn’t said anything offensive, not even to the intolerable David Swan.
From the start, jealousy churned in Lucas where Swan was concerned. The man obviously had a close relationship with the woman he had come to marry. Lucas had hoped she would trust him that much someday. Now there wasn’t a chance of that. He had come all this way just to make sure she didn’t change her mind. The farm and everything else was suffering because of his fool-hearted notion of getting married. He should have been more certain, waited a little longer. Why was he so impatient? Maybe he had been isolated on the farm far too long. He obviously didn’t know how to properly act around a pretty woman. He had made a muck of the situation and would go home empty-handed, though he wasn’t quite sure what he had done wrong. Now who could he marry—Eve? He shuddered at the thought.
He looked into the night sky. What do I do now, Lord? My way failed. I want to do Your will. I thought that’s what I was doing. I guess I answered my own prayers and claimed it was You. I’m staying out of it from now on. I’ll do the best I can with what You’ve given me. If You have a woman out there for me, You will have to bring her to me. I’m not chasin’ after another one.
A knock at the door interrupted his prayer. He didn’t want to see anybody. Should he even bother to open it? It was probably one of the hotel staff. He raked his hands through his clean hair as he strode over to the door. Just as he reached it, he heard a second, lighter knock. He grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open. “What?” he barked.
Miss Harrison stood in the hallway; long dark lashes framed her wide green eyes. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my!” She covered her gaping mouth with her hand.
Lucas’s mouth hung open as well. He couldn’t help but stare. “M–Miss Harrison, Cindy. . .I–I mean Miss. . .” He took a slow breath to calm his rattled nerves. She was the last person he expected to see at his door and looking so pretty. “Won’t you come in?” he offered politely, motioning with his hand into the room.
“Oh,” she squeaked and looked away blushing.
“No. I didn’t mean that.” Inviting an unchaperoned woman into his hotel room, especially at this late hour, would be scandalous and certainly tarnish her reputation. Flustered, he continued, “What I meant was—I don’t know what I meant. Wait there while I get my shirt.” He retrieved his shirt, but when he turned back around, she was gone.
He fumbled with the buttons and crammed the tails into the waist of his jeans. He would have to hurry to catch her. He raced down the stairs and headed straight for the doors, but stopped when he saw her sitting in a lobby chair hunched over with her face in her hands, shaking.
Why do women always cry when they are in stressful or awkward situations? Lucas walked over to her and took a deep breath. “Miss Harrison? Are you all right?” he asked softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She drew in a quick breath and held it, trying to control herself. She looked up slowly.
Her smile surprised him. In fact, she looked as though she was struggling not to laugh. He smiled instinctively. “Did I miss something here?”
“It’s this whole situation.” She almost laughed again.
“You find this funny?” Lucas pulled his brows together.
“I was just looking at this whole situation from your point of view.” She looked down at her reticule, fussing with it to avoid looking at him. “You wrote those letters and came out expecting to find a willing bride. Instead you find me shying away and putting you off. Then I show up now, at night, and you half dressed.”
“I assure you I find nothing humorous in all this.” A hard edge crept into his voice. “I paid good money to travel all the way out here. I have a farm to run. I have obligations. There are things to be done. This isn’t a joke.”
Cinda took a deep breath. “I know. Mr. Rawlings, I truly am sorry about all your troubles. You must think me capricious. You have to understand, I received your letter yesterday only hours before you showed up. It was quite unexpected, I assure you.” For some reason the nervousness she had felt the past two days melted away.
Lucas Rawlings had every right to be very cross with her for all the trouble he thought she had put him through, but he was gentle and was clearly trying to be understanding. She knew she wasn’t making that easy for him. He had always spoken politely and with respect, even to her aunt and David, and never once had he tried talking her into anything.
There was no pretense in him now. He looked comfortable and no longer out of place in his clothes. He was much more suited to Levi’s than a suit. His wavy hair around his face was less stiff. He looked more. . .natural. It was time to confess the truth and let him be on his way in peace. She couldn’t make more a fool of herself than she already had.
Cinda looked him straight in the face to tell him the whole mixed-up story, Vivian and Eve included. When she gazed deep into his blue eyes, she saw her future. Lucas Rawlings was in that future. She imagined being on the porch of a small farmhouse arm in arm with Lucas looking out at their spread. Lucas’s deep voice pulled her back from her reverie.
“Miss Harrison, you were going to say something?” He combed a hand through his thick dark hair. She wondered if it felt as nice as it looked.
For a brief moment her dream was within reach. Could she find the
courage to reach out and grab it? “Yes,” she whispered. She couldn’t push aside the feeling this was from the Lord.
“You certainly had a purpose in coming all the way down here,” he paused and looked around the empty lobby, “alone.”
Cinda snapped out of her daydream. “I’ve changed my mind.” She forced the words out in one big gasp before she could change her mind again.
“I know. You made that clear this afternoon.”
“No. I mean, I’ve changed it back.” Cinda could feel her cheeks flush and her heart race.
“Are you sure?” Lucas furrowed his brow. “You said this before. Don’t feel you have to. I don’t want you to do this unless you are sure.”
“I’m sure this time,” she said, barely able to keep the quiver from her voice. She wondered if Lucas suspected how nervous she was at this moment.
Lucas looked at her for a moment, not sure if he should believe her this time. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should talk about this in the morning. Here.” He pointed to the lobby. “Just you and me. No Mr. Swan and no aunt.”
“I can’t in the morning.”
Lucas rolled his eyes. She was putting him off again. “I’ll walk you home, Miss Harrison.”
She stood up to walk with him out of the hotel. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. I have church.”
“My train leaves in the afternoon. I’m not changing it again.” The sooner he got out of town the better.
“I understand.”
Lucas stopped and turned to her, studying her face. “You understand what?” He narrowed his eyes.
“You no longer want to marry me. . .after everything I’ve put you through.” She shifted uncomfortably.
He wondered if she was playing some sort of game with him or if she had genuinely had a change of heart. “It’s not that. I’m not sure you really want to get married. I don’t have the privilege of idle time to dillydally in town to be turned down again.” He raked a hand over the back of his neck. “I have a farm to run.”
“I won’t change my mind; I give you my word.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He would leave it at that and if by God’s grace anything came of it, there might be a wedding after all.
eight
“You are going to what?” Aunt Ginny had an irritating shrill in her voice.
“I’m going to marry Lucas Rawlings.” She had made up her mind.
“Are you sure about this?” Her uncle’s loving concern had always been a comfort.
“Yes, I’m very sure,” she said to him. “I feel this is somehow in God’s divine plan. I know this sounds all a bit. . .well, strange, but I believe in my heart this is God’s will for my life.”
“Just when do you plan on marrying this stranger? I remind you, he is a stranger.” Her aunt tilted her nose in the air, her lips pinched.
Cinda turned slowly to her aunt. “Tomorrow.” She swung her gaze back to her uncle and said with a touch of urgency in her voice, “It has to be tomorrow, Uncle Barney. He’s leaving on the afternoon train.”
He studied his niece’s face for a moment, trying to read her heart. He always could. “If this is truly what you want,” he said slowly and paused. Cinda nodded. “Then we had better get busy. There is a lot of work to be done.” Her uncle took her by the hand and led her upstairs. Dumbfounded, her aunt remained behind in the parlor.
Her uncle opened the door to the third room that they used for storage. Cinda had seldom been in this room. He pointed to two trunks and told her she could pack her belongings in them. Then he took her over to the corner where a dusty old trunk sat.
He knelt down beside the trunk and patted it lovingly. “These were your mother’s things.” He opened the lid and turned to look up at Cinda, still standing. “Now they’re yours.” Cinda’s mother was Uncle Barney’s younger sister.
Cinda caught her breath. She touched the cameo at her throat as she slowly sank down beside her uncle at the treasure chest. She skimmed her hand over the beautiful quilt that topped the trunk.
“These have always been yours. I was never sure when to give them to you. Now seems like the right time.” His voice was heavy with emotion.
Cinda turned to her uncle and hugged him. “Thank you. Thank you so very much.” Pulling away she asked, “But how did you do this? I thought everything was sold at auction to pay my father’s debts?”
“I managed to save a few things. I couldn’t let my baby sister’s whole life be sold off to strangers.” Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he kept them in check.
However, Cinda’s tears ran free as she hugged him again. Cinda wanted to sift through her mother’s things, but she knew she didn’t have the time to dwell on the past. Her future was at hand.
Closing the trunk, her uncle said, “Let’s get those empty trunks. You have a lot of packing to do.”
❧
Lucas arranged to meet his fickle bride immediately after church. He came in a little late to the service and stood in the back. He chose to wear olive green pants with a matching green and tan plaid shirt. He debated whether or not to wear one of his ridiculous suits. He decided if these clothes were good enough for church back home, they were good enough here. He was tired of pretending to be someone he was not.
He leaned against the back wall, resting one foot on it. He looked around until he spotted the back of Cinda’s head. She was seated near the front with her aunt and a middle-aged man Lucas assumed was her uncle. If the aunt was any indication of what the uncle was like, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to meet him.
He supposed the sermon was good. His thoughts bounced back and forth between his bride-to-be and praying for guidance. Was marriage to this woman the right answer? He thought it was, but maybe in his eagerness to solve his own problem, he was stepping on God’s toes. When he left Mon-tana, he was sure of God’s will. Now he wasn’t as confident.
When the service ended and people filed out, he watched Cinda as she made her way down the narrow aisle, greeting friends along the way. She wore a white linen dress with a touch of ruffles and lace at the neck, elbow cuffs, and the skirt hem—a lovely vision. Was it possible that she was really going to marry him?
He remained against the wall, gazing at her. When she finally caught sight of him, he smiled and tipped his head to her. She blushed and bit her bottom lip. She turned away and headed back up the aisle.
He had his answer. She had changed her mind once again and didn’t even have the courage to tell him. He shoved away from the wall and exited at the tail end of the masses, though several people remained inside.
Halfway across the church lawn he heard a female voice call his name. “Mr. Rawlings!”
He turned to see Cinda coming toward him with her aunt and uncle and Mr. and Mrs. Swan. He surveyed the small mob descending on him and braced himself, for what, he wasn’t sure.
The group stopped in front of him. Cinda looked from him to Allison and David. “You’ve already met my very best friend and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Swan.” Lucas nodded at Allison and shook David’s outstretched hand. Distrust still lingered in David’s eyes, but he said nothing. Cinda drew Lucas’s attention. “You’ve met my aunt, Virginia Crawford.”
The aunt’s condescending expression told him she probably had a thing or two to tell him, but she held her tongue.
He nodded to her. “Ma’am.”
Then Cinda’s smile broadened. “This is my uncle, Barney Crawford.”
Lucas shook the man’s hand. “Good to meet you, Mr. Crawford.” At least he hoped it was a good thing.
“It’s good to finally meet you, too, and it’s Barney.” Barney’s casual nature and warm smile put Lucas at ease.
Lucas scanned the group and settled his bewildered gaze on Cinda. He wasn’t sure what this little get-together was about.
“We should be getting along. Pastor Cooke doesn’t have much time,” Allison said.
“We’ll meet you two inside.” Uncle Barney guided the group towar
d the church.
With raised eyebrows, Lucas looked down at Cinda. She understood his unspoken question of What is going on?
“Pastor Cooke can perform the ceremony, now, before he goes off visiting.” Cinda diverted her eyes to the buttons of his shirt. “If you want, Mr. Rawlings.”
“Get married right now?”
Cinda nodded, looking up only as far as his chin.
“How did you manage that?” Lucas folded his arms across his chest. “I thought your pastor was too busy on the weekends.”
“Pastor Cooke and my uncle have been best friends since they were babies.” Cinda looked him in the eye with a boldness he had not seen in her yet.
Lucas gazed into those rich green eyes and lost himself. She was going to marry him. Somehow he knew he didn’t deserve her. After a few moments of silence, he said, “If indeed we are getting married, Cindy, I think you should start calling me Lucas.”
Her cheeks tinged pink and her gaze dropped back to his chin. “Then. . .Lucas. . .you should start calling me Cinda.”
“What?” He had gotten caught on the melodious way his name sounded on her lips, so he didn’t quite catch what she said.
“My name is Cinda, not Cindy.”
“Cinda,” he said to himself, to establish the sound of it. “Why didn’t you tell me I was saying your name wrong?”
“It didn’t seem important.”
“Because you weren’t planning on marrying me, and I would soon be gone.”
Cinda nodded.
They walked side by side back to the church. Lucas wasn’t sure if he should really believe she was going to go through with it this time.
Uncle Barney was waiting for them at the door. Another man ushered Lucas to the altar, across from where Allison stood as matron of honor. Lucas looked out over the curious crowd.
In the front sat Cinda’s aunt, Mr. Swan, Miss Van Dornick, and Miss Weston. A half dozen others Lucas didn’t know were huddled in the first few pews. Was this really going to happen? Or was this the grand finale to the whole big joke? He should cut and run while he had the chance.