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

by Jill Summers

  “Good night, Effie.” She climbed the stairs, wound her way down the hall and opened the last door on the left. Her room was dark, the curtains open to a view of the town and the night sky. Stars twinkled like dreams in the vast black, mesmerizing her as she closed the door behind her.

  She made her way to the window, set down her bonnet and reticule and eased onto the chair. She’d come so far with her hopes. When it was time to go, she was going to leave a piece of her heart in this town. A big, big piece.

  She propped her elbow on the windowsill, taking in the scene. A crescent moon presided over the sky, ruling over the glittering stars. The first star of the night had long gone from sight, so there was nothing to wish on.

  If only the happiness of the night hadn’t followed her home, because it made Caleb fill her thoughts. His laughter at the dinner table, the glances he’d cast her way, the moment in the kitchen when she’d inexplicably felt his heart near hers. How was she going to be able to do this? How was she going to bear to leave?

  Tears burned her eyes. She thought of the handsome man—stoic and reserved most of the time, but when he wasn’t, wow. How when he didn’t wear a hat, his dark hair swirled over his forehead framing his blue eyes. A day’s growth had shadowed his jaw, making him undeniably masculine. Her fingertips still itched to feather over that stubble and feel its coarseness against her skin.

  Feelings stirred in her heart, but she was swift, she was merciless, she cut them off like a steeled trap door. Fine. Her feelings for him had deepened, just as she’d hoped they would back when she’d been on the train. Her regard for him was greater than ever.

  But he was never going to love her. She had to be honest about that.

  With a slow sigh, she did her best not to feel the pain. When her hand was steady, she lit the lamp and went over to the small writing desk in the corner. She took out a sheet of paper from a stationary box and a bottle of ink. Her eyes blurred as she put her quill to the page.

  Dear Mr. Reynolds, she wrote. I am free to meet you. I am most grateful for your offer to come and get to know you. I am hopeful we will be compatible and I can accept your kind proposal.

  Her pen hesitated, and she lifted it from the paper before it left an ink blob. Tears scorched her eyes. Since she was alone, there was no one to see her cry. No one to know how much her heart broke because she’d done the unthinkable. She’d fallen in love with the man she’d come to marry.

  And he didn’t want her.

  -Chapter Nine-

  Clementine thanked the attorney again and closed the door behind her. The mid-morning sun sprinkled through the boardwalk’s rails, laying bars of gold at her feet. It was a kindness that the lawyer had agreed to handle the deed transfer for the house at no cost. He said he was a long-time family friend of Caleb’s and was happy to help, especially seeing as she’d gifted the house to Katherine.

  Well, that was one more thing done and off her list. She tapped down the boardwalk, waved to Philomena who was driving by in a cute little buggy and slipped into the post office.

  “Hello there, young lady.” A kindly, grandfatherly man smiled at her from behind the counter. He was busy sorting mail but stopped to help her. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to send this letter.” She pulled it out of her pocket.

  “Then you’re in a need of a stamp.”

  “Yes, I am.” She plucked two pennies from the bottom of her reticule. “Will it go out on this afternoon’s train?”

  “Count on it. No mail sits around gathering dust in my post office.” Philomena’s father reminded her of her own. Gentle, quiet, kind. Oh, it made her miss him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Any time. Have a good day, now.”

  “You, too.” She couldn’t explain why she felt in such a hurry to leave. But the doorknob was in her hand and she was crossing the threshold in a blink.

  The hot breeze puffed across her face as she headed down the boardwalk. Gathering her skirts, she hopped into the street and started down the road leading away from town. Maybe the weight pressing on her chest had something to do with the idea of leaving this town—and leaving behind those who had made claim to her heart.

  Just keep looking forward, Clementine. She gathered her strength, determined to keep going. She couldn’t find happiness—a husband, a home and family—if she didn’t keep trying.

  “Clementine?” His voice—Caleb’s voice—washed over her like the sunshine—bright, welcome, sustaining.

  “Hello, there.” She steeled her heart, determined not to feel one more thing for him. Not one thing. “You must be out on your rounds.”

  “Yes, there’s no stopping me.” He knuckled up the brim of his Stetson, exposing his intense blue eyes and the high slash of his cheekbones. He was clean shaved this morning, so why did her fingertips long to run along his smooth, iron-strong jaw?

  There was only one answer. She simply wanted to touch him. She longed for him. Embarrassed, she stared down at the tip of her worn shoes.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asked. “Wait, there’s only two people you know who live down this road. Me and Pa.”

  “What about your brothers? Maybe I’m off to see Jeremiah.”

  “If you’ve set your cap for him, I’ll be jealous.” A smile warmed his words and humor glimmered there, tempting her to look up and meet his gaze.

  It was like a collision, like a touch deep in her soul. “Maybe I have. He’s a few years younger than me, but what does age matter when you’re in love?”

  Caleb chuckled. “Jeremiah would be thrilled if that was true. He’s had a hard time finding a lady to beau.”

  “Why? He’s adorable, or is there something wrong with him that makes women toss him back?” Not that she could imagine it, but bantering was much easier than letting herself feel. “Maybe he’ll have to resort to a mail-order bride, too.”

  “That may be the only way to get him a wife.” Caleb’s words rumbled, part chuckle, part love. It was so easy to see how much he cared about his little brother. “Jeremiah just hasn’t had much luck. He had one serious courtship turn out badly, the lady rejected his proposal. It hit him pretty hard.”

  “It must have broken his heart.”

  “It’s been a slow recovery for him, but then, I understand how that can be. I never thought I could move past mine, but time has helped.” His voice warmed again, and the kindness there lured her to look again. He was smiling and held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride. I’m heading out past my father’s place.”

  “I’m not sure I should accept.” But it was tempting, so tempting, to take his hand. Her fingers twitched, wanting the iron feel of him against her skin. There was something just so wonderful about him.

  “We’ve moved past the mail-order bride mishap, haven’t we?” He arched one eyebrow, leaning toward her. “I’m comfortable around you, Clementine.”

  “I am too, around you.” She swallowed hard. They may have moved beyond the shock, disappointment and obligations, but one thing hit her hard. Surely Caleb meant they’d moved past her expectation for love between them—and that was one expectation she’d failed at. Miserably.

  But it also gave her the chance to make things even between them. So she nodded in agreement, slipped her hand in his and climbed onto the running board. The heat of his hand blazed, jolting her like a lightning bolt. The sensation zipped through her like the purest light, keeping her airborne for one second. Her heart stopped beating. Time stood still. Breathless, she landed on the seat, and Caleb let go of her hand.

  Unaffected, he gathered his reins and snapped them, sending his gelding forward down the road. If she needed a sign from above, that was it. Caleb hadn’t felt what she had. This was a one-way street.

  She’d been right in sending the letter to Mr. Reynolds. She was right in needing to move on.

  Gathering up her hurt, she tucked it away. It was best that Caleb never know how she truly felt.

&nbs
p; “I hear from Mrs. O’Hurley that you’ve talked her into working off your room and board.” He tossed her a sideways glance. The corners of his mouth tugged down in the corners. “You look so sweet, but you’re tenacious.”

  “That’s putting it kindly. I’m stubborn. My late husband never would sugarcoat it. He would always tell me there were days he would have been better off with a mule.”

  “Sounds like he had a sense of humor.”

  “He would have told you he had to, being married to me.” A part of her heart ached at all she’d lost. “For a long time I didn’t see how I could even think about marrying again.”

  “But it was a necessity for you.”

  “In more ways than one.” She didn’t want to tell him about being homeless or being hungry or being alone. She didn’t want to tell him how hard she’d worked to keep hope from slipping away.

  “At least that’s over now. After what you’ve been through, you deserve a good turn.” His tone was layered, rich and intimate. Caring.

  She swallowed hard. “You know about my son.”

  “Yes.” He moved closer, and not just physically. “What was he like?”

  “Joyful.” Oh, it felt good to talk about him. “Jacob was an easy baby, such a blessing that way. He rarely cried or fussed. If he did, a hug and a kiss would put a smile on his face. I’ll never forget the weight of him in my arms. Or the sound of his laugh. He had eyes that took in everything. I just—”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t say another word.

  Caleb’s hand landed on hers, solid and steadying. He said nothing more either but his comfort, his understanding was a gift. Another blessing.

  “I almost lost the girls, you know.” Finally, he broke the silence. His voice was gruff, thick with emotion. “They were so sick. There were a few days when I didn’t think they would pull through. If they hadn’t made it, I don’t think I could have gone on.”

  “Exactly.” She’d had too many dark days—days without a scrap of light. “For a while I was just numb, dead inside. Like I’d lost the biggest part of me. It was a sadness I couldn’t come out of. I just couldn’t take any more pain from life.”

  “I’ve been there.”

  “But that isn’t living. There came a day when I realized I needed to make a choice. To rise up to the challenge of loving again, or I was going to miss everything that mattered most.”

  “You’re also a wise woman, Clementine.” He was just now realizing that too. The struggle of trying to make Lena happy when she couldn’t be, had changed him. Not being able to save her had hit him hard. But he was guilty of closing off his heart.

  But not anymore.

  Pa’s ranch came into sight. Caleb figured he could slow down the horse, but even at a slower walk, his time with Clementine was coming to an end.

  “Is that Pumpkin?” She squinted. “A pony with a white tail and a honey-blond coat is dashing down the road.”

  “Yes. Of course it’s Pumpkin. That animal is uncontainable. Either that or the girls forgot to close the corral gate.” He tried not to be captivated by the amusement on her face and by the beauty he saw there.

  She was as lustrous as the sunshine, alight with goodness and compassion that made every last drop of his cynicism drain away. Her golden curls bobbed as she scooted forward on the seat, seeing the pony clearly now as the animal pranced through the tall grasses at the side of the road. Laughing, lovely Clementine made his heart come alive, full of color and feeling.

  Pumpkin snorted a welcome and wagged her head from side to side.

  “You look happy to see us,” he told the creature. “Were you running around lost for a while?”

  “Oh, no, I’m sure she’s coming to visit Jeremiah.” Clementine answered all too readily for the pony. “After all, I thought I saw her eyeing him in the yard after supper. She must have a crush on him.”

  “That’s a very optimistic explanation.” He pulled Ed to a stop. “Much better than the truth, which is that she’s a bad pony. A very bad pony.”

  Pumpkin nickered low in her throat, as if she did not agree with that at all. Not one bit. Chuckling, he climbed down and grabbed the pony’s halter. “I have a rope under the seat for just these occasions. Could you please hand it to me?”

  “Sure.” Clementine reached down, feeling beneath the seat until she snagged the coiled hemp. “I like a man who’s prepared.”

  “I’ve learned my lesson, that’s all. Do you know how many times I’ve found this pony running around like a wild thing?”

  “With or without the girls? I seem to remember her running around with them in town. Totally wild.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Laughter looked good on him, crinkling the corners of his eyes and bringing out his dimples. He took the rope from her. “You have no notion how much I regret getting this pony.”

  “You say that as if you paid a lot of money for her.”

  “No, I did not.” He secured the rope to the halter and led the pony to the back of the buggy. “In fact, I didn’t pay a thing for her.”

  “Really?” She took advantage of the moment and reached into her pocket. She tucked the envelopes with his money into the crease of the seat. “You must have traded medical services for her.”

  “Oh, if only I had.” He knotted the end of the rope, checking it twice. He did not want Pumpkin getting away again. “A rancher on the other side of town said, ‘say, your girls are about the age where they would love a pony. Take my daughter’s. She’s grown up and going to get married. She doesn’t ride her anymore.’“

  “I sense a moral to the story is coming.”

  “Yes, here it is. Never accept a free pony. You get what you pay for.” He strolled toward her, taking a moment to bend down and pluck a handful of daisies from the side of the road. “You live and learn, I guess.”

  “Yes. Sadly that’s a lesson learned too late.”

  “I’m glad you understand my woes.” Those bronze threads in his irises gleamed as he held out his hand.

  As naturally as breathing, she took it. Her fingers curved around his larger ones, the flat of her palm met his. Why did her feelings have to deepen for him with every touch? She hopped from the seat to the ground breathless and when she let go of his hand, her heart ached as if with a loss.

  You can’t love him, she told herself. But her heart wasn’t listening.

  “For you.” He presented her with the daisies and left her standing in the grass as he circled around his buggy. The vehicle shook slightly as he climbed aboard and Ed leaped to life, ready to get on with his job.

  Caleb waved as he left her. She waved back, watching him go. The warm wind gusted, stirring the daisies she held. The fields of grass rustled and whispered. The sun brightened, impossibly bright. Only then did she realize she was standing in front of Jeb’s house.

  Oh, you’re in trouble, Clementine, she thought. Big, big trouble.

  * * *

  It had taken every scrap of self-control to drive away from her. Caleb gripped the reins tight, jaw clenched, to keep himself from turning around. She’d affected him. She’d gotten into him. He couldn’t seem to concentrate on driving or even care about his work. What had she done to him?

  In a daze, he pulled Ed to a stop and hopped down from the buggy. That’s when he noticed the two envelopes tucked on the seat. The same envelopes he’d had the girls give her. That stubborn, wonderful woman.

  The front door of the farmhouse opened and Mrs. Eugenie Bell smiled out at him, dressed in a housecoat. The ruffle of her nightgown showed beneath.

  “You were a little late,” she called out. “I worried some emergency had come up, which meant someone was real sick or hurt.”

  “No, just got a bit waylaid.” If being emotionally broadsided by a pretty woman counted as being waylaid. He grabbed his medical bag and headed up the walk. From inside the house, he heard another voice.

  “Ma, what are you doing up? I told you I would watch for the d
octor.” Philomena Bell rushed up to take her mother by the shoulders. “See what a terrible patient I have? Doc, come right on in. It’s nearly lunch time, but I kept the coffee pot on just in case you needed a cup.”

  “I’ll never say no to coffee.” He forced a smile, stepping into the foyer. It was like walking in a fog, almost as if his body was moving along without him.

  Because part of him was still back there in the road outside his father’s house. That part of him hadn’t wanted to leave Clementine. No, he’d wanted to stay with her. Tenderness had taken hold of his heart, and he couldn’t stop it. Like a seed it grew, flourishing, blooming, becoming something beautiful.

  He wanted to go back and replay those last moments with her. After handing her those daisies, he should have followed his heart. He should have taken her into his arms and kissed her. Held her to his chest and felt her sweet softness against him.

  “—isn’t that right, Doc?” Philomena was saying. “Rest, rest, rest. It’s the only way you are going to get over this lung fever.”

  “Yes, you must take care of yourself, Eugenie.” He shook his head, hoping to clear it. His patient deserved his undivided attention. He set down his bag. “How have you been feeling?”

  “Better. I keep telling my daughter that, but does she listen?” Eugenie gasped as she shuffled her way to the sofa. “I’m almost fit as a fiddle.”

  “You’re ill and you need to rest to recover,” he argued gently, taking her hand to help her ease onto the cushions. “Your daughter is right.”

  “There, you heard it from the expert.” Philomena rushed over to grab the afghan at the foot of the sofa and covered her mother. “Are you going to listen to me from now on?”

  “No.” Mischief glimmered in the older woman’s eyes.

  Caleb smiled. This was what his twins were missing—the bond with a mother. He couldn’t deny that he wanted to give them that. They deserved all the love they could get.

  It just didn’t seem possible before Clementine. His throat ached oddly. So did his chest. He could feel the transformation in his heart. The broken pieces were no longer there. He felt whole.