The Sweetest Mail Order Bride (Sweet Creek Brides Book 1)

by Jill Summers

  “We’ll help, Pa.” Gracie bobbed to the ground, scooping up one big mound of dough.

  “We can make some more.” Hope grabbed up the lumps that were never destined to become baked biscuits. “We’ve helped Hattie before—”

  “—so we know how to do it.” Gracie plopped the dough on the counter and smiled sweetly.

  Hope deposited her handfuls of dough too, although both little girls were now sticky.

  And floury.

  “I can’t think of anything more fun than the notion of baking with you two.” Clementine put the lid back on the fry pan. “But supper is practically cooked. We don’t have enough time to whip up more dough, but we have plenty of food anyway.”

  “Are you mad at us?” Gracie wiped her sticky hands on the front of her dress, doing her best to use her wide-eyed, innocent look.

  Yeah, he knew that look so well.

  “Definitely mad. Can’t you tell?” With a wink, Clementine grabbed the potholders. “Now, can I ask a favor of you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Can you carry the pitcher of milk into the dining room for me?” She gestured to the breakable glass pitcher sitting on the small round table by the back door.

  “Yep! I can do it. I won’t spill a single drop!” Eager to help, Gracie dashed across the room, planted her sticky hands on the pitcher and hefted it from the table. A big white splash of milk hit the front of her dress like a wave. “Oops.”

  “At least you didn’t get any on the floor.” Clementine opened the oven door and rescued the bean pot. “You all may as well go with her to make sure she gets to the table all right. Hope, grab the butter dish, would you? Thanks.”

  Hope rushed to comply, scooped the butter dish off the table and the lid wobbled, but didn’t fall to the floor.

  He spied a dishtowel, grabbed it and knelt down to deal with the dough and flour mess on the floor.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Clementine glared down at him. Now that she’d set down the bean pot, metal tongs were in her hand. She waved them at him. “That means you too, Doctor.”

  “I should at least help clean this up.”

  “Not in my kitchen, you don’t.” She flashed him a smile before whipping off the fry pan lid and removing the chicken piece by piece. “I don’t know what type of ship you’re used to, but I run a tight one. Go spend time with your family. They’re waiting for you.”

  He opened his mouth, but heaven help him, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Any word that came to mind was not appropriate. Amazing. Incredible. Perfect. He wanted to stay but he was afraid of what he would feel if he did, so he left the room.

  Katherine was sitting at the table like a guest, next to Pa at the head of the table. The girls were running around the dining room, laughing for some reason. Jeremiah stalked in, grinning as if he didn’t have a care in the world, followed by Daniel, who scowled darkly.

  “This is such a treat.” Katherine took a sip of milk from her glass. “Normally I’m plumb worn out by now. Just goes to show how demanding your father is. What are you boys going to do about it?”

  “Send him to China?” Jeremiah suggested.

  “Put him to work,” Daniel grumbled.

  “Here I was hoping you boys might suggest hiring more help. Hint, hint.” Katherine sounded pleased with herself, as if she had it all figured out. “If Caleb doesn’t want Clementine, maybe one of you other two do. If she’s working here, you’ll get a fine chance to get to know her.”

  “As if I’d want another woman,” Daniel growled from his chair.

  “I might take her!” Jeremiah offered.

  Caleb barely listened to the laughter and banter filling the room around him. He could see Clementine through the doorway, humming to herself as she filled a platter with chicken. The delicious aromas had his stomach grumbling and his mouth watering, but it wasn’t the food that held him spellbound.

  “She’s just like what we wanted, Pa.” Gracie came up to take his hand. “She’s just everything.”

  He couldn’t argue with that.

  -Chapter Eight-

  “I dried every spot.” Gracie held up the glass proudly. It sparkled in the lamplight.

  “No, you missed one.” Hope stopped wiping her plate to point out her sister’s shortcoming. “There’s water on the bottom.”

  “Not for long.” Gracie bit her lip, turned the glass over and rubbed it with the dishtowel. “There. That’s the last one.”

  “Excellent job, girls.” Clementine couldn’t hold back her smile. This was the happiest she’d been in a long time. She swished the dishcloth around the fry pan for good measure. “You’re free. Why don’t you two go play?”

  “But this is fun.” Gracie put down the glass.

  Hope took it and the plate she had dried and put them away. “It’s like having a real ma.”

  “Don’t you girls remember your ma?” She slipped the fry pan into the rinse water.

  “Nope.”

  “Not at all.”

  Both girls shook their heads from side to side, with puppy dog eyes and sad faces.

  Adorable. Oh, it wasn’t easy trying to keep her heart in check. “My ma died when I was about your age. She got a wasting disease that lasted many years. I missed her so much when she was gone, but what I missed most were all the things I couldn’t do with her.”

  “Like wash dishes?”

  “And bake cookies?”

  “Yes. Mostly just the little things. Like being here just like this with you two, just being together.” She took the damp dishtowels and hung them on the hooks behind the stove to dry. “I know you two feel that way because you said so in your letters.”

  The girls gave identical nods. As cute as two peas in a pod. Oh, they were dear. Powerful emotions rose up in her heart, and her mind remembered those letters in their sprawling handwriting. We really want a ma... We’ll be so good if only you’ll be our ma... You can read to us every night when we’re tucked in bed... We won’t be bad or nothing...

  Her hand shook as she hefted the iron pan from the rinse water. A mother’s longing filled her. She knew they could never be her children, that they could not fill the void that her little Jacob’s death had left. But that didn’t stop her heart—not at all. Not even close.

  Don’t start loving them, Clementine. She willed her heart to be still, turned her attention to the fry pan and dried it quickly. “There, the last pan is done. What a beautiful evening. I can’t believe you girls would rather stay in here with me.”

  “We’re waiting for you to come out with us.” Gracie shyly leaned against the cabinets.

  “We rode Pumpkin over,” Hope informed her.

  “I thought you girls weren’t supposed to ride her.”

  “We made a good case,” Gracie explained. “A real good one.”

  “Yeah, Pa couldn’t say no because Pumpkin needs exercise.” Hope nodded as if her reasoning was flawless. “We don’t want her to get fat, lazy and die.”

  “Yes, I agree, it was important that you two rode her tonight,” Clementine agreed. “For strictly medical reasons.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Gracie smiled. “Do you wanna ride her?”

  “Yeah, c’mon!” Hope urged.

  “Nice try,” a male voice cut in—a rich, deep, wonderful voice. Caleb strode into the kitchen, putting on his hat. “It’s time to head home, girls.”

  “No, Pa!” The twins chorused in agony.

  “Can’t we stay—”

  “—a little longer—”

  “Pleeeease?” they both pleaded.

  Clementine saw the resignation cross Caleb’s granite face. She read the caring.

  “Sorry, begging isn’t going to work.” He winked at them. “Thank Clementine for the meal and get your sunbonnets.”

  “Thank you, Clementine,” the girls said obediently. Gracie grabbed one of her hands, and Hope the other.

  Love flared in her heart, bright and unyielding. Something that could never be held
back again. Her chest ached, in that wonderful, so-much-love way. She squeezed Gracie’s fingers and then Hope’s. “You girls have a good night. And be good!”

  “We’ll try,” Gracie promised.

  “But Hattie calls us chaos in calico!” As if proud of it, Hope beamed. The two little girls dashed away calling out, “Bye, Clementine!”

  Goodbye, her heart answered. She stayed quiet, aware of the emptiness of the room without them. The faint rumble of Jeb’s voice drifted through the house as he said goodbye to his granddaughters.

  “I was right. You are a great cook.” Caleb’s voice dipped down, low and warm.

  Her chest tightened. She knew she had to be imagining that warmth, because it wasn’t only the twins who were claiming her heart. And it was an affection she could not give into, so instead she focused her attention on drying the already dry fry pan. “I just like to cook.”

  “It shows. You did a nice thing for Katherine, giving her the night off and then cooking for her, too.”

  “When I heard she didn’t have any family to go home to, I didn’t want her eating alone.” Clementine turned her back, taking her time putting the pan away, but she couldn’t help peeking at him out of the corner of her eye. “Besides, she seems very at ease with your father and brothers. Almost like family.”

  “I’d say she already is. She’s worked for my parents since before I came back from medical school.” He knuckled back his hat brim to smile at her. Really smile. Dimples cut into his lean cheeks. Bronze threads sparkled in his blue irises. “Good night, Clementine.”

  His tone deepened when he said her name, as if with great feeling. For an instant, his reserve vanished. The distance he kept between them faded, and when her heart beat, it felt as if his did too.

  The last thing she should do was to fall in love with him. She set the fry pan on its shelf, breaking the moment.

  But the closeness—the way her heart beat with his—did not end.

  “Good night, Caleb.” Her voice sounded scratchy, but she pretended that it was perfectly normal. “Have a good ride home.”

  “I suppose that’s up to Pumpkin, if she’s all out of antics for the day or not.” His humor seemed to reach out to her, inviting her to join in.

  She did not dare. She merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  He nodded once as if he understood. He turned and disappeared through the doorway, leaving her alone.

  She put the pan away and closed the cabinet door. The sound echoed in the empty room—and in her heart.

  * * *

  “Oh, Pa. We have troubles.” Gracie turned on her woe the instant he stepped foot into their bedroom. Darkness reined, casting the urchin in shadows as she bounded across her bedroom floor.

  “Big troubles.” Hope, happy to comply, did the same, leaping onto the bed beside her sister. The two of them sat in the middle of the mattress in their flowered nightgowns and long, unbraided brown hair. The illumination from the bedside lamp perfectly captured their woebegone expressions.

  He crossed the room, dodging wooden toy horses as he went.

  “What troubles are you specifically referring to?” He pulled up the top edge of the covers. “Are you talking about your school performance?”

  “Uh—” Gracie hesitated. Clearly this wasn’t the direction she was expecting to take the conversation. “Well, we could do better in school—”

  “—if we had a ma.” Hope climbed between the sheets.

  “You would do better in school if you paid attention and applied yourselves.” He was not going to go down this road. “It’s called personal responsibility. Self-reliance.”

  “It’s hard to do without a ma.” Gracie managed to sound heartrending as she joined her sister between the sheets and snuggled into her pillow. “Why don’t you like her?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I’m afraid to guess what you girls are up to now.” He tucked the covers up to their chins. “I know you have a scheme in mind. Don’t deny it.”

  “Well—” Gracie hedged.

  “Umm—” Hope rolled her eyes.

  “She didn’t yell at us about the biscuits.” Gracie wiggled around beneath the covers, as if she had too much energy to contain. “Not even a little.”

  “Teacher says we’re a trial,” Hope added. “But not Clementine.”

  “She’s awful nice, Pa.”

  “The nicest ma Grandpa could find.”

  A dark, terrible foreboding gathered behind his breastbone. It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. “We’ve discussed this.”

  “But that was before.” Gracie stopped to give a cute little huff. “Pa, you like Clementine now.”

  “Maybe she could still be our ma?” Hope’s eyes held a glimmer of hope and of love.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back his reaction to that. Emotions were messy. Emotions hurt. It was easier to stay clinical—the objective doctor who felt nothing. But his daughters, for all their spunk and exuberance, were tender of heart and fragile in their need to be loved. Surely they had joined in helping bring Clementine here because they sorely felt the void of a mother’s affection in their lives.

  He opened his eyes. Perhaps this was where he’d always failed his girls, closing down when he should be opening up. Lena had drained him, never happy, turning cold and demanding when she realized a doctor’s life was about long hours and worry for others. After the girls were born, she’d battled hopelessness and didn’t want to find her way out. Turning off his heart had been a way of coping, a way to dull the pain of his broken dreams.

  But his heart was not off now. It was not dull. Something in him had changed.

  And he knew who had done it. Clementine. Everything had changed when he’d taken her hand.

  “Clementine needs us, Pa,” Gracie informed him.

  “Yeah,” Hope agreed. “Cuz she lost her little boy. She’s a ma without a kid—”

  “—and we’re kids without a ma,” Gracie finished.

  “I didn’t realize how much you needed her.” He bent close and ran a hand over Gracie’s head first, then Hope’s. Such great girls. “But do you really want to saddle someone as nice as Clementine with a husband like me?”

  “Yes!” the girls chorused.

  He laughed.

  “Good night, you two.” He kissed each twin on the forehead before turning down the lamp. “Sweet dreams.”

  The image of Clementine washing dishes with his girls stayed with him. The light laughter and warmth, the tranquil happiness, her beauty that was more than skin deep and straight from the heart made it hard to forget her.

  He closed the door and ambled down the hallway, taking the stairs two at a time. His footsteps echoed in the stillness, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to come home to Clementine’s smile. He didn’t know what to do with the chorus of feelings within his heart.

  * * *

  “Caleb just doesn’t know what’s good for him,” Katherine pronounced as she reined her little mare down the town’s dark main street. “Typical man. Sometimes you have to wake them up and make them see what’s standing right in front of them.”

  “I came here because I thought he wanted me. Really wanted me.” Clementine tried to keep the hurt out of her voice. “Now that I know he doesn’t, I won’t try to manipulate him. That isn’t right.”

  “Neither is bringing you out here on false pretenses.”

  “I can’t say that doesn’t hurt, but I understand the motives. Jeb is dying, isn’t he?”

  Katherine gasped and dropped the reins. Her mare stopped in the middle of the street as the wind gusted. “There’s a big possibility.”

  “And you care about Jeb.”

  “Of course I do. He’s been my employer for more years than I can count.” Katherine sniffed, blinking hard. “I was best friends with his wife. Velma and I—”

  Katherine paused, wrestling to get her emotions under control. “Well, let’s just say, I ca
n’t bear to see this happening. Those boys need their father.”

  Clementine’s eyes blurred. Although the boys were grown men, love for one’s parents was a powerful force. “You need to hire someone to help you care for him.”

  “We were hoping you would want the job.”

  “You know I do, but that wouldn’t be right for any one of us.” She gentled her tone. “I would always be pining for these people I care about, who would never really be family. Gracie and Hope want a mother so badly, it would only hurt them to keep hoping. And that’s what they would do if I stayed around.”

  “Then you’re leaving?”

  “I intend to write to the next man on my list.” She didn’t add that Mr. Reynolds was her last resort. But perhaps they would make a good match. She didn’t know until she corresponded with him more. One thing she could not do was stay here.

  “I wish things had turned out differently,” she confessed. “While I’m here, I’ll help you as a friend, not an employee. Although it may not be for long if things work out with Mr. Reynolds.”

  “Well, I might not need much time to change your mind.” Katherine picked up the reins. The mare surged forward, bringing them to the boardinghouse’s steps. “Good night, and thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure.” She hopped down from the buggy. She waved as Katherine drove off, leaving her alone in the night.

  O’Hurley’s was quiet, the dinner hour long past. A faint scent of roasted pork lingered in the air as she made her way across the foyer.

  “How did it go?” Effie poked her head out of her office. “Is Caleb in love with you yet?”

  “No, and no engagement ring either,” she joked, untying her bonnet strings. “How about you? Any proposals from the men coming to dine with you?”

  “Dine at my establishment, you mean.” Effie laughed. “I can’t imagine a one of them being interested in an old battle ax like me.”

  “You aren’t so old. Or a battle ax.”

  “Shh. Don’t let that get around.” Effie grinned. “Can I bring you up a pot of tea?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll just knit for a while.”

  “That’s how I wind down too. Sleep tight, Clementine.”