Most Unsuitable Courtship

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Most Unsuitable Courtship Page 9

by Clemmons, Caroline


  Lottie looked very proud of herself. “I pooped.”

  People at a nearby table smiled. Rena rolled her eyes and sat down.

  Drew peered at Storm. “Why’d you stand up then sit back down?”

  “When a lady enters the room, a gentleman stands.” He spotted a man and two women enter the dining room. “In a place like this, he can’t stand every time a lady comes into the room, so he stands when a lady with his group enters.”

  “Why?”

  Storm had forgotten this phase for children—the why of everything. “To show his respect for the lady and to be available if she needs assistance.”

  “Don’t it hurt your bad leg?”

  “A bit.” A lot, but he wasn’t one to complain, especially to a kid.

  Drew opened his mouth to ask another question.

  Before he could, Rena tapped him on the arm. “Eat your food. Later you can talk.”

  Storm wondered if he had packed away as much food when he was Drew’s age. He wasn’t sure about his younger years, but remembered always being hungry as a teenager. His brother-in-law Drake had teased him about eating continuously.

  Eventually, even Drew had his fill and they moved to the mercantile.

  Rena lined the kids up by the door. “You may look all you wish, but do not touch anything without Storm’s or my permission. Do you understand?”

  Three grubby faces nodded and their eyes surveyed all the temptation around them. While they stared, he and Rena gathered up underwear, socks and shoes for the children. She chose for the girls and he chose for Drew. Storm considered Drew’s appetite and allowed for growth in the clothes he selected. Rena picked out a dress for herself and he picked up a shirt and a pair of trousers to replace the ones with the hole in the leg.

  The delight on the kids’ faces touched his heart in ways that surprised him. Was this how Drake had felt when he’d taken charge of him as a fourteen year old boy in Tennessee? Now Storm had an opportunity to pass on the good work Drake had done by helping these three children.

  Was that his motive? He admitted he liked these kids as well as identifying with them. They had managed to wedge themselves into his affection.

  Pounding commenced behind his eyes and he wished he could simply lie down and sleep for hours—or days. And not with four others sharing the bed. Not that he minded having Rena beside him, but she presented too much temptation. Resisting grew more and more difficult.

  Susie’s small hand tugging at his britches’ leg snapped him from his woolgathering. Something had her all worked up and she looked mad.

  “Mister Storm, how come Lottie gets a blue dress and Rena gets a green dress but I gots to have a plain brown one. I want one that’s a pretty color, too.”

  Drew tugged on his other sleeve. “She sure is a handful when she gets mad. You ‘member how hard it was to get her out of the cellar? Ain’t often she gets riled, but she sure can throw a fit when she wants something.”

  Storm exchanged glances with Rena. She rolled her eyes.

  Rena held up two readymade dresses, both unremarkable brown. “Do you see a blue or a green dress that would fit you? No, there are only these two, but they are pretty dresses, Susie. Which one would you like?”

  The child scrunched up her face and stared at the garments then at Rena then back to the offering. Storm braced himself for a tantrum, but she pointed at one. “I reckon that one is best ‘cause it’s got those little white flowers on it.”

  Storm exhaled a breath. “There, now everyone has new clothes. Shall we pay for our purchases and move on?”

  Susie clutched her dress but looked at a shelf beyond her reach. “Reckon me and Lottie could have a doll? Our cornhusk dolls burned up.”

  He smiled. “I believe every little girl needs a real doll.”

  Her eyes widened. “You mean we don’t have to share one?”

  “You may each choose one, but please pick a doll that won’t break if you drop it. Not one of the French dolls, but one you can really play with.”

  He lifted each girl in turn and let her choose a doll. Susie picked a fancy one with a china head, and that worried him. Lottie chose a cloth doll she could cuddle. To be fair, he let Drew choose a new top and a wooden horse.

  The happiness on the children’s faces warmed him inside. If only his other problems were as easily solved. But he still had to find these kids a family to adopt them and then be on his way to capture the three remaining killers before they robbed the Vernon bank and disappeared into Indian Territory.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rena reveled in clean skin and hair after a bath and donning new clothes. Though they’d bathed on separate sides—males on one side, females on the other—the group left the bath house together.

  Drew carried his grubby clothes. “I never knew there was a place people went just to take a bath.”

  Storm placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll check into the hotel now we’re clean.”

  “Are we gonna sleep on pallets?” Susie stared at the stone building.

  She scooped up Lottie so they could walk faster. “No, we will all sleep in a bed—and I hope it is more comfortable than the Pursley’s.”

  She watched Storm. Surely the hot bath helped his leg, for his limp appeared decreased. Perhaps he would lie down once they had their room.

  They registered and climbed the stairs. He unlocked the door and let Rena precede him. As she brushed near and passed him, she inhaled his clean, spicy scent. What a wonderful smell.

  He stopped in the room’s center and peered around. “They call this a suite?”

  She smiled. “At least there are two beds. Perhaps we’ll all rest better tonight.”

  He sat on one bed. “Not a bad mattress.”

  “What sort of bandage did you put on your leg at the bathhouse? Perhaps we should send for the doctor. You could rest until he comes.”

  He sent her a grimace. “No, thanks. I survived a bullet and Mrs. Pursley. Can’t say which was worse, but that’s enough insult to my leg for one week.”

  Turning to the kids, he pulled the things he’d gathered from their parents and showed them. “These belonged to your mother and father along with your father’s rifle and pistol. I’ll keep them for now, but they belong to you. When we find you a home, I’ll give them to the people who adopt you to save.”

  Drew narrowed his eyes. “What if they keep them and won’t let us have them?”

  “We won’t leave you with the kind of people who would steal your inheritance. I don’t know what the men stole. Do you know if your folks had cash or jewelry in the house?”

  Susie touched her dress near the shoulder. “Ma had a pin she wore sometimes. It had a lady’s head on it.”

  “A cameo broach. Anything else?”

  Drew appeared thoughtful. “Pa had a tin box he kept over the fireplace. I don’t know how much he had in it, but that’s where he put his money and stuff.”

  “Okay, we’ll keep that in mind when we reclaim what the men robbed.” He gestured to other bed, the one furthest from the door. “Put you stuff there, then we’ll go see more of the town.”

  Susie held tightly to her doll. “I want to keep my baby with me.”

  Lottie nodded and clutched her own doll. “With me.”

  Storm slid off the mattress and knelt beside them. “Your babies need a nap. Let’s put them on the bed and cover them up.” He helped the girls turn down the cover and gently place the dolls on the pillow and tuck them in. “Be really quiet so they can sleep while we take care of a few errands.”

  Susie’s brow furrowed and she tugged at his arm. In a stage whisper, she asked, “What if somebody steals ‘em while we’re not here?”

  “Can’t, see.” He held up the key. “We’ll lock the door when we leave so no one can bother our things.”

  Drew peered up at Storm. “Are we gonna eat some more?”

  Storm laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Eventually.”

  Rena sheph
erded the girls behind Storm and Drew. She marveled at Storm’s easy way with children and how well they responded to him. He never lost patience, even when Lottie had to relieve herself often and the children were stubborn or fussy.

  They’d spotted the white spire as they rode in. Now they walked the two blocks to the church. The sign near the street said First Congregational Church, Joseph Wells, Minister. The parsonage stood next door and slightly back from the church.

  “You fixin’ to get rid of us?” Drew asked, his face expressing fear.

  “We’re going to find you a nice family that will adopt all three of you. Then I’m going to capture the men who killed your parents and I’ll recover your mother’s broach and your father’s money.” Storm rapped on the front door.

  At the mention, Lottie and Susie started crying.

  “I want my mommy.” Susie wailed.

  Storm knelt and put an arm around each girl. “Now, we talked about this. Your parents are angels now. They’re watching you and you sure don’t want them to see you cry.”

  As he hugged the sobbing girls to him, the door opened. A man in his fifties smiled, and Rena knew immediately that he smiled a lot. His face radiated peace and happiness.

  “What have we here? A lovely family come to call?” He stepped aside. “Come in, come in.”

  They entered the parlor. Shining wood surfaces offset the aged shabby furniture. A worn oriental carpet covered most of the floor.

  Drew pouted. “We’re not a family. They want to get rid of us.”

  Rena laid an arm across the boy’s shoulders. “That’s not true, Drew. You know we have to ride fast from now on.”

  “I’m Pastor Wells.” He gestured to the faded red sofa. “Sit down and tell me what brings you here today.”

  Storm explained the circumstances. The children watched him. The girls climbed on his lap and Drew snuggled to his side. Rena sat next to Drew and he grasped her hand. Poor kids were frightened and she didn’t blame them. She knew how terrifying life was with no family, no home, no hope. She slid her arm around Drew and gave him a reassuring hug.

  When Storm had finished his story, he added, “Mr. and Mrs. Pursley said you would be able to find a couple to adopt the children.”

  Pastor Wells stroked his chin. “Not hard to place a fine boy like this one. I believe the Barlows are looking for a boy to help on the farm. The Tanners might take the oldest girl.” He shook his head. “Most folks don’t want younger kids, especially as young as the little girl. Not even one as cute as this child.”

  “Not possible.” Storm hugged the girls protectively. “They have to stay together. All three must go to the same home.”

  The preacher nodded thoughtfully but his eyes still twinkled. “Well, the Mitchells are a God fearing couple. Never had children. Probably take all three.” He held up his hand. “You needn’t worry about them not being with God-fearing people. Mitchells believe in ‘spare the rod and spoil the child,’ and these kids will get a strict upbringing.”

  Drew’s eyes widened and he looked at Rena. “What’s that mean, the spare the rod part?”

  “It means you can’t live there.” Rena hugged the boy close and met the preacher’s gaze. “You must know a couple who can take care of these children and love them as they ought to be loved.”

  “Looks to me like you two fit the bill. Kids take to you, I can tell. You appear to have a handle on taking care of them. And I can see you care about them.”

  “Um, there’s a problem.” Storm stood and set the two girls on the sofa. “You children sit right there while the adults talk.” He turned. “Could we speak to you in private, Pastor Wells?”

  Rena accompanied the two men into a small study. Papers teetered in stacks across the desk. A bookcase clutched books ready to spill from the overflowing shelves. Sunshine pushed through one small window in a failed attempt to brighten the dim room.

  The preacher sat at his desk. “What’s the problem?”

  Storm looked at her before he spoke. “We’re not really married. Well, she was married, but the men we’re chasing killed her elderly husband. She insisted on going with me to capture the murderers. Seemed simpler to say we were married to prevent people we met from thinking badly of her. She’s a good woman, preacher, and I won’t have anyone saying otherwise.”

  “We have not been—“ she glanced at Storm before she continued, “we have not slept as man and wife.”

  Pastor Wells stroked his chin again. “I see, but you passed yourself as a couple. Young man, you have a fiancé or courting a woman back home?”

  “N-No, sir.” Storm turned a wary expression on the preacher.

  The preacher slapped his palms against his desk, causing an avalanche of papers he ignored. “Appears to me the simplest thing to do is make your marriage official and adopt the children yourselves. Otherwise, I’ll be duty bound to insist they remain here and go to the Mitchells.”

  Storm paced back and forth in the small room, two strides one way, turn, two steps back. He ran his fingers through his hair. After a six turns around “There’s more to it. Rena hasn’t had a chance to, well, anything. All she’s known is a paper marriage to a man old enough to be her grandfather—maybe even her great grandfather—and escaping from Germany. But now she has a chance to start over as soon as I—we recover her dowry.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Do not use me as an excuse, Storm Kincaid. If you do not want to marry me, be honest enough to admit it. You should not lie to a man of God.” What was she saying? What had come over her?

  She couldn’t say, only that she pictured herself when she lost her mother. Worse, when her father died, the desolation that engulfed her. And these children had lost both parents at once. They’d be enduring visions of future horror.

  He stopped and stared at her, appearing perplexed at her accusation. “I wasn’t lying, Rena. You’ve never had the experiences a young woman deserves. Parties, teas, socials, shopping with other women, being courted by beaus.” He gave a dismissive gesture. “All the things young women do before they marry.”

  She stood her ground, had to fight for these poor kids even if it meant her own loss of freedom. “And did your sister Pearl have these things?”

  “No, and it killed me she missed them.”

  She tilted her head and smiled. “She is happy now, ja?”

  Surprise shot across his face. “Of course, she’s very happy with Drake.” He shook his head. “But we’re talking about you now.”

  Pastor Wells rose. “No, we’re talking about the two of you marrying and adopting those three children who already trust you. To be honest, I know of no one who will give them the affection you two show toward them. And I’m not certain anyone will be willing to take all three children, especially the youngest.”

  Storm rubbed his jaw, apparently searching for words. “We’re headed for a dangerous showdown in Vernon, Preacher. There’s likely to be gunfire. The three remaining killers won’t go peacefully.”

  The preacher’s face brightened. “Vernon? You can leave the children with Henry Woods and his wife. He’s pastor of the Methodist Church there. His wife, Nancy, will take good care of the children and your soon-to-be wife while you make your arrests.”

  Rena started to tell him that she would kill at least one of the men who tortured Abram and she would take care of herself. Holding her silence, she thought this kindly man didn’t need to know her deadly intentions. She glanced at Storm, hoping to identify his true feelings. Did he like her? She thought he did.

  Marriage was more than liking. More than his warm lip kisses. More than keeping three children together.

  Did he resent the idea of being joined to her forever? How did she feel about another rushed wedding? She had planned to play the society belle, flirting and choosing among her suitors. Fine clothes and parties, a nice home to which she invited friends.

  She realized her world had shifted on its axis, her life changed entirely. Being with this man she tr
usted appealed to her. And she could not let these three sweet children be separated or sent to live with cruel people. Was she making a mistake?

  Storm faced her and took her hand in his. “Renata Dmitriev, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” His voice came strong, but his beautiful purple-blue eyes held more questions.

  Rena’s throat closed and words failed her. Tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed against the emotion. “Ja. Yes, I will.”

  The preacher chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “I’ll ask my wife to join us. She plays the pianoforte. And I think one of the ladies is in the church right now arranging flowers. Come this way.”

  Rena leaned toward Storm. “He planned this to happen.”

  “Yep. That’s why he suggested those people he did.” Storm placed a hand at her waist. “We’ve been outmaneuvered, but it’s for the best. The children have had enough upset in their lives and don’t need to be passed around.” He tugged her toward him as they walked. “You’ve had enough upset as well. Are you sure about this? You can still back out. I can take them to my sister Pearl.”

  Her certainty waivered. Would she regret her hasty decision later? But then his warm, strong hand at her waist, the sounds of the children whispering together as they entered the parlor encouraged her.

  “I am sure. I will be a good wife for you and a good mother to our children. These three and any more who follow. But I still intend to shoot one of those men for what they have done.”

  She expected an argument, but he surprised her then frustrated her.

  “If any woman can, you’re the one. But we’ll see. Now that we have a family, you must take care to see you’re around to raise them.”

  “Och, do not think you can put me off, Storm. I never knew I could hate anything or anyone as much as I hate those men.”

  “More than the men who killed your father?”

  “Much more. The men who killed Vati acted as an enraged mob, killing then burning the dead. But these men are worse. They torture and mutilate and humiliate. They took pleasure in hurting Abram. What they did to that poor woman is enough to rouse my hatred.”

 

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