An Inescapable Attraction

by Sydney Jane Baily

  This romanticizing of Thaddeus Sanborn, wasting her life by keeping her heart for him alone, was going to end right here, right now. She'd spent enough years wanting something that could never be. Not with the likes of him.

  She took another quiet step backward, convincing herself she was making the right decision.

  He might be off to Canada tomorrow in search of the next big gold strike. Or jump on a ship to Europe. She simply had no idea. But he was not husband and father material—that fact had finally sunk in.

  Creeping down the stairs, her heart breaking with each step, she found solace in the fact that she wouldn't be by herself anymore. She carried Thaddeus's baby, and instead of worrying about her own feelings, she would turn her attention to someone other than herself.

  She was determined to bring this child such joy, its happiness would overflow and sweep her along with it. And she was going to do that right in her own home.

  As it turned out, slipping away without another word to either Thaddeus or Jo proved the easiest thing in the world. She had her late ex-husband's luxurious carriage in which to begin her journey back to Spring City. It conveyed her swiftly and comfortably out of town.

  She took the first road that headed due west, thinking that Thaddeus would have a conniption fit if he could see her all by herself. But she wasn't completely witless; she'd picked up his revolver, rather unthinkingly, while Stoddard's man carried Thaddeus off the riverboat. She'd placed it on the carriage floor and now it was hers. Having used a gun successfully—twice, now, to protect herself and the man she loved—she wouldn't hesitate to use one again to protect her unborn baby.

  By late in the day, she arrived at a town so distant from the Mississippi River that it made her head spin to think how far she'd come. The next day she did it again. And the next, traveling under a bright sun, unimpeded by weather or terrain, with no more worries that Stoddard or his men followed her.

  By the fourth day, however, when the roads got too rough, she realized it would take her a month of Sundays to get home in the impractical conveyance that was more suited to town and city driving. Selling it for a tidy sum, she boarded a train once again for the last, long stretch to Colorado.

  * * *

  When she arrived at Spring City's small station, her tears battled with a genuine smile. Lord, it was good to see her home after all this time! Right away, she encountered half a dozen people she knew as she descended the platform, only her carpetbag in hand with Thaddeus's revolver tucked inside and enough money to last a very long time. Each person raised a hand in greeting.

  "Hey, Eliza."

  "Hi, Miss Prentice."

  Some stared at her curiously, perhaps realizing by the fit of her gown and the futility of the maternity corset, which was designed to hide her condition, that she carried a baby.

  She returned each greeting with a smile and a wave, feeling a lightness of spirit. She was not the same unhappy woman who'd broken her engagement and run away, with a heavy heart and a black outlook on her future.

  Oh, she knew she had some fences to mend, but she was looking forward to doing so. Mending fences, hopefully making friends, building a life with her child the way Charlotte had built one with her new family.

  She refused to dwell on what—or rather, who—was missing from that ideal. She felt grateful for having made it home alive.

  When Eliza reached her house, staring up at its welcoming facade, a trembling started deep inside her. A part of her imagined her father would be in the house waiting. While traveling, she'd comforted herself by picturing him in his favorite chair. But now, she shook off that fantasy.

  If things had happened differently, she would have returned as the last Prentice. Except she hadn't. Smiling slightly, she spared a glance toward the Sanborn homestead. She couldn't actually see it, except in her mind's eye—down the street, around the corner and past a copse of pines. She knew it stood empty, abandoned.

  Taking hold of the railing, Eliza climbed the steps, five of them, and then she was on her own front porch. How many times had she thought she'd never see it again?

  Even devoid of any furniture, which had all been put away so it wouldn't rot, her porch was still the most comforting sight she'd ever seen. By the end of the day, she intended to have her swing out and be sitting on it to watch the sun go down behind the mountains. She'd sat there many times, alone or with her father or even with her one-time fiancé, Riley, but she didn't think she'd ever enjoy it as much as she would that night.

  Taking a key from under the mat, she had her hand on the doorknob when the door was wrenched open from inside.

  "Eliza! I heard footsteps. I can't believe it's you."

  Mrs. Longwood had looked after the house while she was away and, before that, had taken care of her father for as long as Eliza could remember. And she didn't think she'd ever truly thanked the woman.

  She threw her arms around the familiar figure and hugged her.

  "I'm so glad to see you, Mrs. Longwood."

  She felt the woman stiffen, apparently shocked. They hadn't touched much in all the years. The only hugs Eliza had wanted were impossible to have, from her dead mother or from Thaddeus. So she'd taken none and given none, except rarely to her father and even more rarely to Riley. In friendship, of course.

  Gradually, her housekeeper relaxed and hugged her back, squeezing her hard. Then the woman pulled back and looked at Eliza. Did her glance pause on Eliza's middle?

  "Welcome home, child. Welcome home."

  And she did feel welcome. Why had she never let Mrs. Longwood close to her before? Or let anyone for that matter? What a martyr she'd been! And it had been so easy to use that loneliness as a weapon and make everyone else around her suffer, too.

  She peered around her; everything looked just as she'd left it.

  "You've taken such good care of our home," Eliza said, realizing it was just as much Mrs. Longwood's as hers.

  "If you'd sent a telegram ahead," Mrs. Longwood scolded, "it would have been even better. I would have removed all the covers from the good furniture and made some fresh bread."

  Even without fresh bread and with her front parlor draped in white sheets, her home seemed like the best place she'd ever seen.

  "We'll do it together," Eliza said. "Have you eaten? I haven't. I'm starved. I could eat a whole hog, I swear."

  Mrs. Longwood gave her a long look. "Are you sure you're Eliza Prentice?"

  Eliza laughed. "Yes, I am."

  She was so relieved not to be Eliza Stoddard that she could just burst. And she might as well let the housekeeper in on the news that would certainly come to everyone's attention when she walked through town.

  "I'm eating for two, by the way."

  Would Mrs. Longwood be shocked? Maybe refuse to live with her anymore? Eliza held her breath. She didn't want to see condemnation in the eyes of the woman who'd been with her all her life.

  The housekeeper's gaze traveled up and down Eliza's tiny form before she stopped herself. She cleared her throat. "I noticed." Instead of condemnation, however, she smiled. "Well, then child, we'd better get you fed and right quick. I may not have fresh bread today, but I have roast beef and at least half a huckleberry pie left."

  To Eliza's surprise, Mrs. Longwood put her arm around her waist and walked with her to the kitchen. Yes, Eliza would tell her everything in due course.

  Between a delicious home-cooked meal for supper and walking into town mid-morning the next day, Eliza learned a lot about what had happened while she'd been away.

  She'd already found out from Charlotte that Doc had retired, but to discover the Cuthins gone, even temporarily, was a surprise. Doc and Sarah were traveling the world, seeing the famous sites of Europe, and they even had plans to go to India. Such a huge change made the whole town seem different.

  Eliza was eager to meet the new doctor, who she found out was a woman. Gracious! Everyone had always believed it would be Riley's position, but he was in San Francisco with bigger fis
h to fry and starting a family of his own with Sophie.

  She paused at the entrance to Doc's surgery. His old sign was gone. A new plaque was hanging in its place: C. Bell, M.D.

  Pushing the door open, she peered inside. Everything looked the same and smelled the same, except instead of Sarah sitting behind the desk, a middle-aged black woman was in her place. She shot Eliza a welcoming smile.

  "A stranger in Spring City," remarked the woman. "My, oh, my."

  Eliza chuckled. "I'm not the stranger here. You are." Then she clamped her hand to her mouth, realizing how rude that sounded. "I apologize."

  "That's all right, honey. If you're not a stranger, how come I've never seen you before?"

  "I've been away, ma'am. But I was born and raised here. I'm Eliza Prentice."

  "Oh," the lady said, narrowing her eyes, her friendly expression dimming a little.

  Eliza sighed. "Apparently, you've heard of me."

  The woman nodded and frowned and took her measure of Eliza, from head to toe. "Funny, you don't look like you're going to send poisonous curses my way."

  Stifling a gasp, Eliza shrugged. "Not today, anyway."

  Goodness! What had people been saying about her? Clearly, the truth, she thought, feeling a strange desire to laugh.

  The lady cocked her head, and then she gave Eliza another smile. "I'm Marie Taylor, nurse to Dr. Bell."

  Just then, the door to the examining room opened and out came another unfamiliar face.

  "You must be the new doctor," Eliza said, appraising the woman who would help to bring her son or daughter into the world. Medium height that put her a few inches taller than Eliza, the woman had very fair skin, dark red hair, and intelligent eyes.

  Eliza made the first move and took a few steps toward the doctor, holding out her out her hand. "I'm Eliza Prentice."

  For a moment, she wished she could give a different name and not be judged by the hearsay that had come before her. However, the grey-green eyes that stared back at her weren't condemning.

  "Miss Prentice, it's good to finally meet you. I'm Dr. Bell. Cassandra Bell. I owe you my gratitude for the stipend that pays for this position and the upkeep of the practice."

  Eliza had forgotten about that. "You're most welcome, I'm sure." Then she fell silent, not knowing how to broach the topic she wanted to discuss.

  "I assume that's why you're here. To check on things, since Dr. Cuthins' retirement?"

  "Oh, no," Eliza said. "What do I know of such things? I'm sure if he hired you to replace him, then you're an excellent doctor."

  Dr. Bell and the nurse exchanged a glance. Obviously, her reasonable words were not expected. "Is there something else you wish to discuss with me?"

  Eliza looked at the floor, then back at the doctor. "If you're not too busy, yes."

  "I'm not, as it happens. Come on into the back."

  She followed. How strange to go into the surgery and not see Doc and Riley. Both gone. It seemed unthinkable. She'd been so sure Riley would always be here, her good, good friend, the only one she could turn to when she really wanted Thaddeus.

  "Is something wrong?" Dr. Bell asked, seeing the unsettled look skitter across Eliza's face.

  "Ghosts of the past," Eliza said, then she took a seat. "However, I'm not here concerning the past. It's the future I want to discuss, mine and... my baby's." There, she'd said it—out loud to a stranger.

  She'd told Mrs. Longwood that she'd fallen in love, but the baby's father wasn't the settling kind. Would the doctor ask her painful and prying questions?

  But Dr. Bell didn't stare at her in judgment or disgust. She matter-of-factly nodded and said, "I see. And how far along do you think you are?" Then she conducted a brief examination and listened to Eliza's heart, but she made no mention of the father.

  "You seem in perfect health," Dr. Bell said. "But you're a small woman. Let's hope your hips spread a bit in the next few months."

  Eliza's eyes widened. Her hips would spread?

  "Yes, let's hope so," she agreed, feeling this was yet another area in which she would have benefited from the advice of a mother.

  At least she had Dr. Bell and Mrs. Longwood, though to the best of Eliza's knowledge, her housekeeper had never had any children.

  As they stood up, Dr. Bell added, "Eat heartily, but don't overindulge. And stay away from strong spirits."

  Eliza nodded. "And Miss Prentice, if you ever need to discuss anything, baby-related or otherwise, I'm a good listener." The doctor's face seemed even kinder with the encouraging smile she offered.

  A lump filled the back of Eliza's throat at the doctor's compassion. "I'll remember that." Then she added, "Thank you."

  Chapter 15

  Riding into Spring City, Thaddeus had never been happier to see his homestead. But he didn't even stop at it. He went straight to Ellie's house.

  Weeks earlier, following a hunch, he'd sent a telegram from Boston to Dan at the feedstore and found out she was back.

  Without his agreement, Thaddeus had been carted back to the house on India Wharf so his sister could tend to him. It had taken him ages to heal from the gunshot wound, which weakened him, angered him, and frustrated the hell out of him. And he'd been a bear of a patient, uncivil and ungrateful, until Charlotte had finally released him.

  In the two months since he'd awakened at The Pork and Swallow to discover Ellie had left without even a goodbye, he had thought of nothing but her. And all he wanted was Ellie—to talk to her, to tell her how he felt, to hold her, and God willing, to overcome her stubbornness and convince her he could settle down.

  He rapped his knuckles on the door, waiting impatiently for an answer. When Mrs. Longwood pulled it open, just as she'd always done his whole life long, he couldn't help smiling.

  "Why, Thaddeus Sanborn, as I live and breathe."

  That seemed friendly enough, but she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips and he felt as though he were twelve years old again and had been caught stealing berries from the Elijah Prentice's garden.

  He pulled his hat off his head, knowing he had a dirty sweat stain on his forehead from riding hard the last few miles, determined to shave off even a few minutes from the time until he could lay eyes on Ellie.

  "Is Eli—" He stopped short at the look of disapproval that crossed Mrs. Longwood's face. "I mean, is Miss Prentice at home?" he asked.

  She crossed her arms in front of her, and he wondered if she was going to give him an answer. He shot her his most winning smile, a smile that had served him well over the years, and after another second, he saw her start to thaw.

  With a raised eyebrow, she stepped aside to let him into the front hall; at the same time, Ellie came from the kitchen at the back of the house. He saw her a second before she caught sight of him—all golden-haired, a sweet expression on her face, blue eyes shining. His heart skipped a beat.

  "Mrs. Longwood, who's at—?" Ellie began.

  Yup, he knew the very instant she saw him, for she stopped dead in her tracks and actually blanched paler than her usual fair skin.

  "Thaddeus!" Her hand drifted up to her throat as if she were choking, and her other hand went immediately to her stomach, which was where his gaze traveled. He'd only caught the merest glimpse of her on the deck of Stoddard's boat, but he could see her stomach had blossomed in the many weeks since.

  Instead of her standard trim-fitting shirtwaist that tapered at her waist, she had on a blouse that gathered only inches below her breasts, before falling away from her stomach and hips. In her favorite shade of blue, with flounces on both sides, ample buttons, and a hint of lace at her décolletage—the whole impression made him want to scoop her into his arms and feel her roundness where his baby was growing.

  But not in front of Mrs. Longwood.

  "Ellie, you look... good. Very healthy." He wanted to say she looked so desirable his head, as well as other parts of him, could explode, but he didn't.

  He ached to touch her, and without even hesitating to consider t
he propriety of his actions, he approached her and took her hand right off her stomach, holding it in his own.

  "Mr. Sanborn!" Mrs. Longwood exclaimed when Ellie stayed mute, staring at him as though she didn't believe her eyes.

  Then Ellie came to life, pulling her hand from his. "No, it's fine. He's fine."

  Triumphantly but not gloatingly, he shot another friendly grin at the housekeeper. He'd made it past the dragon at the gates, but he still had to convince Ellie he was ready for all the responsibility that came with being a husband and father.

  Ellie's lovely eyes suddenly widened. "Are you fine, Thaddeus? I sent a telegram to Charlotte asking after you, and she assured me you were recovering. It seems she was correct."

  Charlotte hadn't mentioned a telegram, probably knowing he would have jumped out of bed too soon if he'd known that Ellie was worrying over him.

  "It took longer than I liked, but I'm doing just fine. I need to speak with you, though."

  "All right," she agreed, sounding neither welcoming, nor off-putting.

  She turned and led the way down the hall to the back door. Mrs. Longwood's steps trailed behind them. At the doorway, Ellie paused.

  "Mrs. Longwood, would you please bring us some sarsaparilla out back? My friend here looks as though he's thirsty."

  Thaddeus had never heard her speak so kindly, particularly not to her help. Impending motherhood was gentling her in more ways than one.

  He held his tongue until they reached the back veranda with its swing and table. He smiled, remembering Mr. Prentice boasting at the feedstore one day that he had the only house in town with a swing at the front and the back.

  Minding all his manners, he waited until she took a seat before sitting down beside her. Thank you, God. He was next to her again.

  "It's a lovely view, isn't it?" she asked, her gaze wandering over her large, perfectly tended yard.

  However, he had eyes for her alone, watching her lips curve in a contented smile. Would she mind if he kissed those lips that very instant?