by Jill Summers
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” She stared down at her reticule she was wringing with both hands and set it down on the empty chair next to her. Illness and death. Small pox had taken her husband and year-old son years ago. The grief rose up. It wasn’t easy to push it back down. “You didn’t write about that in your letters posing as Caleb.”
“You had to remind me of my transgression, didn’t you?” Jeb leaned back as Millie approached with two large plates and set them on the table.
Clementine stared at all that food—food she could not pay for. Surely this cost more than the coins she had.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” Millie set a pot of coffee on the table before padding off.
Clementine’s stomach growled, and she blushed.
“This is my treat, dear.” Jeb grabbed the roast beef sandwich, took a big bite and chewed. “Hmm. Good. Now, we need to work together to form a plan to make Caleb fall in love with you.”
“Somehow I knew you were going to say that.” She gave a small laugh. “I should be furious with you. In fact, I think I am.”
“But a kind woman like you, she puts others first. Don’t think I couldn’t read between the lines in those letters you sent. You care about us now, what happens to the twins especially.” Jeb wiped his mouth with his napkin and took another bite.
“So you manipulated me by having me fall in love with the girls because you knew how much I wanted to be a mother again.” Yes, she should be mad at him. She should hit him upside the head with her sandwich. “But I know what grief feels like. I can’t truly fault you. Maybe because I’m grieving too. This was supposed to be my new chance for a family.”
“It will be.” Jeb set down his sandwich to upend the two cups on the table and filled them with coffee. “I’m doing this for you too, Clementine.”
That hurt. Her eyes burned.
“You’ve been alone for so long. You’ve gone too long without someone to watch out for you. A pretty lady like you deserves to be cared about.” His eyes turned sad. “If my Velma were alive today she would have said to help you. I brought you out here, and I’m responsible for you. I’ll treat you like my own daughter, and that’s why you won’t be going around to any more stores looking for work.”
“I need a job if I want to have a roof over my head. It’s just a fact of life.”
“You have me now. I’ll take care of you.”
Wasn’t that sweet? She accepted a cup of coffee and reached for the sugar bowl. “I didn’t come here to let someone else support me. Not even you, Jeb. I earn my way.”
“Don’t argue with me, missy. And don’t make the mistake of thinking I fibbed in those letters I wrote you. The more I got to know you, the more I came to care about you. You’re going to be my daughter by marriage, and my heart is sweet on you. Look at you with those blond curls and that sweetheart face. You’re just the daughter Velma and I always wanted to have.”
“Now you’re killing me.” His words meant so much, tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them back but they came anyway, overflowing. She dabbed at them with her napkin, feeling foolish for craving so hard the kind of family ties he offered her.
But this wasn’t a fairytale. Storybook endings weren’t often possible in this life. She had to be practical.
“Are you okay there?” Millie came over with an extra folded napkin.
“I’m fine.” It was just being caught between the wishing and the disappointment, in the lost dream. She took a moment to dry the last pesky tear. There was nothing left to do but to make the best of it.
She gave Millie a watery smile and took a sip of her coffee, determined to change the conversation. She would ask Jed about his life with Velma. True love always made a wonderful story.
-Chapter Three-
Hours later, Clementine stood in the lobby of Mrs. O’Hurley’s boardinghouse. The clatter of pots and pans echoed through the main floor from the kitchen, where supper was being made. Tasty aromas scented the air as she spotted the town’s weekly newspaper neatly folded on an end table by the front window.
Excellent. She’d take a look and see if there were any job openings listed. Going from one shop to the next hadn’t exactly been encouraging. She fought a sense of defeat as she grabbed the newsprint and eased into one of the overstuffed chairs. Did she write to the only other man who’d answered her advertisement and see if he was still interested in her?
Her chest tightened. She bowed her head, skipping over the news. She turned the pages until she spotted the classifieds.
Suddenly the front door swung open with a bang. The Blake twins bounded into the lobby with bouncing brown braids and swirling red calico skirts. Gracie skidded to a stop in front of her. The area rug caught beneath her shoe and she tripped.
Goodness! Clementine dropped the paper, reaching out to try to catch the girl. But Hope leaped to the rescue by grabbing her sister’s arm and saving her.
“Mrs. Clementine!” Gracie recovered and swiped a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Pa figured that we’d find you here.”
“Yeah, cuz you live here now.” Hope hopped to a halt beside her sister. “Well, for now. Cuz pretty soon you’re gonna be our ma.”
“Is that so?” She folded up the paper, charmed. Utterly charmed. It was like seeing double, staring at the cute little girls—little girls she’d come here to love. Her heart stirred. It was impossible to hold back that affection. “I’m pretty sure your pa doesn’t feel that way.”
“Grandpa says he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”
“But we do.”
The twins smiled, flashing their adorable dimples. With their fringe bangs and twins braids, they looked like sweet, innocent dolls.
Clementine was not fooled. “Was it your idea or your grandpa’s to lie to me?”
The dimples faded. The smiles disappeared.
“Uh—” Gracie’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh—” Hope stared at her shoes. “We’re real sorry.”
“Yeah, real sorry.” Gracie agreed. “We just wanted you for a ma so much.”
“Cuz you always wanted a daughter to bake cookies with.”
“And sew and knit with.”
The twins each gave a genuine sigh of loss and regret. Clementine thought of the small stack of letters she had upstairs in her valise, tied with a leftover piece of yellow ribbon.
How many times had she read and re-read the girls’ hopes and dreams? We want a ma who will sing lots, the first of the letters had started. So that Pa will stop being sad. And we want a ma who bakes real good cookies.
“That’s why we came to the train, Mrs. Clementine.” Hope drew in a slow, shaky breath. “So we could tell you—”
“—you were the ma we wanted.” Gracie finished. “Grandpa said there was no other way. Pa wouldn’t find us a ma by himself.”
“Yeah, we had to take charge.” Hope clasped her hands together. “That’s what Grandpa said.”
“You don’t hate us now. Do you?” Pain shone in Gracie’s eyes.
“Please don’t,” Hope’s voice went high and thin. Vulnerable. “Cuz we love you.”
“I love you, too.” Clementine shook her head. How on earth was she ever going to resist these two? Good thing she wasn’t really going to be their mother, because they already had her wrapped around their fingers. Her heart warmed, sweetly wishing. “Being your ma would have been terribly nice, but we’ll always be friends.”
“Okay.” Gracie swiped her eyes.
“We promise.” Hope managed a wobbly smile.
There was really no other option. She pushed her own sadness and loss aside. “Your father does know you two are here, right?”
“Yep. He’s right out there.” Gracie pointed to the front window.
Clementine turned around, spotting the handsome, stoic doctor who’d retreated to safety across the street. He was talking with a cowboy but keeping an eye on the boardinghouse. When he saw her looking at him, he whipped his head around. He hadn�
��t been watching her, had he?
Probably terrified she was siding with the girls in concocting another plan to trap him into marriage. Poor Caleb.
“Here. This is for you.” Gracie reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“I got one, too.” Hope yanked an envelope out of her pocket. They both thrust it proudly at her.
She had a bad feeling. “Is that full of money?”
“Yep. Pa said it’s for you.”
“Is that right?” She bit her bottom lip, debating. If she took it, then her life would be easier. But it wasn’t right. “Your father made no commitment to me. He doesn’t owe me anything.”
“Oh.” Gracie hung her head.
Hope frowned. “You gotta take it so you can stay and love us.”
“I’m always going to love you. Who couldn’t adore you two?”
“Well—” Gracie rolled her eyes. “We can cause trouble.”
“Yep. A lot of trouble.”
Clementine laughed. “I don’t mind trouble. But I’m not going to take your father’s money.”
Someone cleared their throat. Dr. Caleb Blake shouldered through the open doorway. “It’s too bad for you, because you are going to take it.”
“See, it’s a good thing this didn’t work out. You’re bossy.”
That made him smile. Oh, what a sight. Dimples framed the curve of his mouth, softening his granite features. Handsome turned to stunning. “My family made a promise to you, one they had to know they couldn’t keep. This will help you find another promise. I hope it will work out better for you next time.”
“Pa!” Gracie’s jaw dropped.
“Pa!” Hope looked equally shocked and betrayed.
“Don’t tell her to go to someone else—”
“—cuz we want her.”
“More than anything.”
“We’ll be sooooo good. We promise.”
Caleb worked to dim down his smile. It wouldn’t do to make them think he was sympathetic to their plight. Sure, little girls needed a mother. It was only natural to crave a mother’s love. But life hadn’t worked out that way, and as sorry as he was, he wasn’t going to get married, not again. He’d walked down that torturous road before and he wasn’t interested in that brand of agony again.
A blurred motion caught his eye. He glanced out the window and noticed a familiar palomino pony running around in the street. “Did you girls forget something? Like tying up your pony properly?”
“Oh, Pumpkin!” Hope’s hands flew up to her eyes, as if to hide the sight of the misbehaving pony.
“Pumpkin! No!” Gracie launched into an all-out run. “Get off the boardwalk!”
Yeah, Caleb thought, resigned. There would never be peace and quiet anywhere near the twins. A woman’s startled scream rang down the street.
“Apparently the pony is still on the boardwalk.” He was afraid to look over his shoulder. Sometimes it was just better not to know.
“Hilarious. I didn’t know horses were allowed on boardwalks.” Miss Clementine Parks gave a small laugh, a gentle, pleasant trill that made him think of clear mountain brooks and spring raindrops. “I can tell by the look on your face that they aren’t.”
“The sheriff will probably fine me.” He did his best not to notice the feminine way she pushed a stray curl out of her pretty face. “It won’t be the first time.”
“Your girls are delightful. They must light up your life.”
“That they do.” He considered the woman. Where had she come from? How old was she? What made her decide to become a mail-order bride?
Not that she was any of his business. He shouldn’t be curious about her. He should finish making restitution to her and end all association with her.
“Oh! That must be Pumpkin.” Clementine Parks stood up, turning toward the open doorway, utterly charming. She laughed again, as sweet as a hymn, and held out her hands. “What a pretty old girl you are. I don’t think Mrs. O’Hurley would want you in the lobby.”
Caleb watched, transfixed. She captivated. The kindness, the sweetness, her warmth. For some inexplicable reason, every one of his senses focused on her, noticing everything. The way she moved like music. The way she smelled like lilacs. The soft notes of her laugh, the gentleness as she held her hands out for the pony to sniff.
He was rooted in place, temporarily suspended, aware of the woman in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Life never works out the way you expect. I learned that lesson long ago. Her words came back to him, bothering him. What lessons had she learned? What hardships had she faced? Why hadn’t her life turned out the way she’d expected?
“You caught her!” Gracie’s shoes pounded to a stop outside the door. “Whew. Thanks, Mrs. Clementine.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Hope got a boost up from her twin and landed on the pony’s back. “Bad Pumpkin. You are a bad girl.”
The unrepentant pony lifted her head, giving it a defiant shake. Her brown eyes sparkled, full of happiness as she glanced around the hotel lobby, perhaps looking for trouble. And it looked like she found it. The pony opened her mouth, stretching as far as her neck would allow trying to catch the nearby lampshade’s fringe between her teeth.
“Not a good idea, funny girl.” Clementine Parks caught the pony’s muzzle in her gentle hands. “That lamp is enclosed with glass, but it can tip over. Then whoosh! Fire. Trouble does find you girls, doesn’t it?”
“It’s the pony this time. Honest,” Gracie explained from Pumpkin’s back, seated behind her sister.
“Back, Pumpkin!” Hope grabbed the reins, the pony obliged and the three of them returned to the boardwalk. Steeled horseshoes clanked on the wooden planks as they rode away.
“That is the funniest thing I’ve seen in years.” Laughing, with her hand to her middle, Clementine leaned out the door as if eager to take in every last bit of amusement she could.
“I should sell tickets to the Gracie and Hope circus,” he commented dryly. “If I did, I’d be rich by now.”
“I’m starting to see why you can’t find a wife.”
“At least you can see my plight. Trust me, you should be counting yourself lucky this didn’t work out for you.”
“I’m starting to see that.” She swiped a tear of laughter from her eye.
Mrs. O’Hurley popped her head around the corner. “Tell me that pony wasn’t trying to get in here.”
“Technically only her front hooves were in. The rest of her was officially on the boardwalk.” Clementine flashed a smile at the older woman. “Although she did have her eye on the lampshade, but I saved it.”
“I’m indebted to you. That’s my favorite lampshade.” Effie O’Hurley arched an eyebrow. “Caleb, if there’s dirt on my new carpet, you’ll pay to have it cleaned.”
“Of course.” He jammed his hands into his denim pockets. He was frustrated, he was overwhelmed, he was tired from a long day. And he couldn’t stop watching Clementine as she exchanged words with Effie, asking if there was anything she could do to help out in the kitchen. She really wanted to make herself useful, no pay or credit to her bill required.
Of all the women his father and the girls had to pick, why did they have to find such a nice one? He wished he could dislike her, it would make it much easier to turn around and walk away. But that wasn’t what kept him from going.
“Mrs. O’Hurley is going to get help whether she wants it or not.” Clementine swept toward him, lovely in simple calico. Her blond ringlet curls bounced as she came to a stop in front of him. “I don’t know if I should thank you for paying for my stay here or if I should refuse it like I did your offer of money.”
“You should accept it. You have your future to think about. Will it be another mail-order marriage?” He didn’t know why his chest ached when he asked that.
“It will have to be. I’m twenty-seven years old.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “It’s not easy at this age. Men want younger women. I’ve been told I’m well past my bloom.”
“Not from where I’m standing.” He wanted to reach out to her—he couldn’t explain why. Was she as lonesome as he was?
Maybe it was the doctor in him, the man wanting to fix what hurt in other people. Maybe it was something emotional, coming from a deeper place in his heart, a place he didn’t understand. The words rolled off his tongue before he could stop them. “Come have supper with us tonight. The girls would be delighted.”
She blinked, as if shocked beyond words. As if nothing could astonish her more. “Uh—I was going to help Mrs. O’Hurley.”
“She has hired staff. She won’t miss you. The girls will.”
“I, uh—” She searched for words and was unable to find them.
“It’s just a neighborly invitation,” he clarified. “If I know the girls, they talked Hattie into making something special for you, betting that this all was going to work out.”
“Hattie?”
“She’s our housekeeper. It wasn’t easy finding someone to look after my twins. They have a reputation.”
“Really? I haven’t noticed.”
“Funny. They’ve chased away more than a few housekeepers in their time. You were brought out here under false pretenses. They weren’t honest about what you might be getting into.”
“It’s practically fraud.” She teased. “Whew. I really did dodge a bullet. Better count myself lucky.”
“I would. Many women in this town would agree with you.” Humor brought out his dimples. “Please come tonight. You would be doing me a favor.”
“How? I would think you’d want me to keep a safe distance from your daughters.”
“Oh, no. First, it wouldn’t hurt them to have a good example of what a fine lady should be. And second, they run wild. I could use the moral support or, better yet, someone to marshal them into behaving, even for one night.”
“When you say it that way, why would I come?”
“Hattie promised chocolate cake for dessert.”
“How can I say no? Wild twins couldn’t keep me away.”
And then she was laughing, trying hard not to be charmed by him.