Patchwork Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “At least you know that much about me.” No smile, no softness, no hint that she intended to change her mind about him, or that she wanted to.

  Please make her want to change her mind, he prayed. Please, Lord, don’t let me lose her. He risked a step closer, the knell of his boots like a cannon strike in the tense silence between them. “I know a great deal about you.”

  “Is that so? Then you ought to know I am not going to believe your stories now.”

  “Stories. Fine, I’ll admit it. I told you some stories.” He fisted his hands, determined to take responsibility for his mistakes. He could be strong, too. “I wish now I had told you not parts but the whole of those stories. I’m sorry for that.”

  “All I wanted was the truth.” Her blue-gray eyes shadowed and she spun away. “I can see that is not going to happen.”

  “Is that why you came?”

  “No. I saw Papa arrive home and I knew what he was going to do the instant he went into the barn.” She stared at the hoop she held, a colorful block of patchwork, and shook her head. She had obviously been in the parlor sewing. “You two didn’t come to some kind of agreement, did you?”

  “A betrothal agreement? No.” He saw relief slumping her shoulders and the tension slipping from her jaw. He hurt to see how much she dreaded such an arrangement. She did not want him.

  “Good. I caught him in time.” She twisted away, her head down, an invisible barrier between them. Never had she been so distant. “My parents approve of you now.”

  “The only approval mattering to me is yours.” There had to be a way to heal this breach between them. “I told you the truth and now I want to tell you the whole of it. The years we lived with my grandmother were the happiest of my childhood.”

  “I don’t want to hear about them.” She whirled at him, backing away. “I’ve had enough. There is no purpose in mending what is broken.”

  “I didn’t mean to destroy your trust. My parents are not a part of my life, not anymore.” He tugged off his hat, vulnerable, a man with nothing to hide. “Believe me. I have been honest about who I am and what I want.”

  “You have not. I am not some country girl easily fooled.”

  “I do not think you are.” He stood resolute, like an innocent man. But how could he be? He looked so sad. “The day I walked away from my father’s ultimatums and my mother’s social scheming, I stopped being their son. I am my own man. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me.” He couldn’t change the truth. She’d thought she had meant more to him than that. She’d been imagining that when he gazed upon her, the world vanished and all that remained was his infinite love for her. She’d thought that when he’d pledged his intentions, it was because she made him whole. That their love was the kind of a rare shining blessing bestowed sparingly in this world.

  But she was not so special to him. Whatever caring he felt for her, it could not measure up to what she had imagined. He had been passing time, that was all, a rich man’s harmless flirtations.

  “My maternal grandmother was poor, but when we were in need she shared what she had with us.” How sincere he looked, striving so hard to win back her regard. With another story, no less, one meant to tear down her defenses and overturn good sense. “What I told you was true. My father’s investments improved and we moved back into our house, but I never forgot—”

  “Please, not another tale,” she interrupted. “You will say anything to salvage your self-opinion. When you leave tomorrow, you will not take my heart with you.”

  “But I love you.”

  “You love me?” She marched through the barn doors and into the yard, rocks crunching beneath her shoes, the cheerful shafts of sunlight threatening to steal her from his sight. His beautiful Meredith. Why couldn’t she see his feelings?

  “I think I fell in love the first moment I set eyes on you. You had a streak of mud on your cheek and you were standing in the middle of the road.” Please remember that moment, he begged, the instant in time when their lives changed.

  Her anger melted away, leaving a moment of pure longing that made her so sad that his soul could bleed. The wind gusted, bringing a few stray blossoms from the flowering apple trees. Soft pink petals rained down on her, clinging to her tendrils and the slope of her skirt. Being near to her brought more hidden places within him alive. Nothing could stop his love for her.

  The future rolled out before him like the prairie unspooling in every direction. He saw the year to come of courting the prettiest schoolteacher west of the Mississippi, his engagement ring shining on her slender hand. There would be a little wedding with wildflowers and Meredith radiant in any gown she wanted. He could picture their comfortable home and plenty of fertile land close to whichever town her teaching job had taken them. Horses grazing behind whiteboard fences, fruit ripening in the orchard and Meredith cradling their baby in her arms.

  Never had he seen his future so clearly. Never had he wanted something so much.

  “I remember thinking you were trouble on horseback.” She stared down at her sewing hoop as if searching for a solution. Finding none there, she gave him one last appraisal. Her longing had vanished, but the sadness remained. She hiked up her skirts as if ready to flee. “I should have paid better attention to my first impressions.”

  “You loved me once. You said so. You can love me again.” It was the only hope he had.

  “No. I cannot. This is goodbye, Shane Connelly.” She could not hide her sorrow as she hurried up the walkway, taking with her the best dream he’d ever had.

  For what felt like the eight hundredth time, she blinked furiously until her vision cleared. It took a few attempts until the blurred colors of her quilt block took shape again. The purple stood out brighter than all the others, a reminder of everything she needed to forget.

  Just put him behind you, Meredith. She willed every thought, every image, every memory of Shane from her mind and concentrated on poking the needle through the fabric, feeling the contact of the tip against her thimble. She pulled the thread through in a muted rasp that echoed in every corner of her bedroom. She’d never felt empty like this, as if hollowed out of all feeling. She was as spent as if she’d run a hundred miles without rest.

  Footsteps bounded down the hall, light and bouncy and cheerful. Minnie skidded to a stop in the open doorway, bits of leaves in her hair and shavings of bark on her dress.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Minnie tromped in and bounced onto the edge of the bed.

  “Stitching a block.” She placed her needle again. “Have you been playing in your tree house?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t any fun today, so I came in.” Minnie sighed dramatically. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

  “No, because it has to do with the man I refuse to think about, so you will just have to tell me about something else.” She only had to hold her composure for a few more hours. Once the house was dark and she was in bed, she could cry if she wanted to. No one would know. She tugged her thread gently, tightening the stitch. “Judging by the delicious smells wafting up here from the kitchen, you succeeded in talking Cook into baking a chicken pie for supper.”

  “I asked her to make more molasses cookies for Shane, so he could take some with him.” Her bottom lip wobbled. “I know you don’t want to hear his name, but I’m sad he’s leaving. He was so nice to me.”

  “He was nice to you.” She couldn’t refute that. Meredith pinned her needle into the fabric and set the hoop aside. The window seat creaked slightly as she stood. She brushed stray curls out of her sister’s blue eyes filling with tears. “Who wouldn’t be charmed by you, sweetheart?”

  “There’s no one like him. Just no one.” Fourteen was a tough age, still so very much a child. Minnie swiped her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “I thought he was going to stay a long time and train all our horses.”

  “He was never going to stay for long, and I think Mama’s interference made their stay much shorter.” She
eased onto the bed beside her sister and drew her close. “Sadie said that one day when we were at school, Mama went outside and told Braden and Shane all the qualities she expected to see in a Worthington horse. They were to be dignified in all respects. No biting or running away with their drivers. Sadie kept track of the clock. The lecture went on for over an hour.”

  “That’s because Papa was really hurt by a horse once, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. God spared him, but Mama has never forgot it.” She wanted Minnie to see this was for the best. Maybe it would bring back Minnie’s smile. “I think it’s easier for the horsemen if they move on to a quieter place.”

  “Do you think Shane will miss us?”

  “It would be impossible not to miss you, dear one.” She squeezed her sister tight, treasuring her like the precious gift she was. “Now shouldn’t you be getting ready for supper? If Mama sees the leaves in your hair, she’s not going to be happy.”

  “I have leaves in my hair?” This seemed to be news to Minnie.

  “What do you expect when you climb around in trees like a monkey?” Meredith gave Minnie a final hug.

  “I’m not a monkey. Tilly, did you hear what she called me?”

  “I heard.” A tray rattled as Tilly swept into the room. “Look what I brought. Supper. I talked Mama into letting us have a picnic up here. She’s feeling under the weather.”

  “Disappointment, I expect.” Meredith grabbed her comb off the bureau. “Knowing Mama, she already had the wedding planned and the invitations composed.”

  “She’s taken it hard, it’s true.” Tilly set the tray on the bed, scooting it carefully into the center of the mattress. “Meredith, how are you doing?”

  “It is not a mortal blow. It just feels like one.” She took the comb to Minnie’s hair. “I will survive, so there’s no need to talk about it again. There, the leaves are out. Minnie, do you want to say grace?”

  “I love saying it!” Minnie busily settled in front of the tray, crossed her legs, settled her skirts and steepled her hands. “Hurry. I’ve thought up a good one.”

  Over the top of her head, Meredith shared a smile with Tilly. Having them here was the best balm she could ask for. She settled onto the feather mattress, careful not to tip the tray and jostle the juice glasses, and settled beside Minnie on the duvet cover. Tilly did the same on the other side, and together they bowed their heads, folded their hands. Minnie cleared her throat.

  “Dear God,” she began primly. “Please bless this food we are about to eat and especially please bless Shane because he’s leaving and Meredith and me are gonna miss him. I think Meredith will miss him more, so please help her to be a teacher so she won’t be so sad. Amen.”

  “Amen.” Meredith opened her eyes only to find they were blurry again. “That was sweet, Minnie.”

  “You said a very good prayer.” Tilly reached over to hug Minnie with one arm, Meredith with another, sisters not only by blood but of the heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It had been a rough and sleepless night as Shane halted Hobo and dismounted on the lawn outside the Worthington home. Dawn hinted at the horizon, turning the darkness to gradients of shadow, allowing him to make out the trunk of the maple and the branches beneath Meredith’s window. His boots scraped against the bark and the leaves shivered as he pulled himself up limb by limb into the arms of the tree. His pulse drummed frantically against his rib cage, pounding in his throat and making him halfway dizzy.

  “That’s a female for you,” Braden had said last night when they’d shared supper at the table in the bunkhouse. “Contrary. Not one of them make a lick of sense. They rip your heart out as easily as a basting seam in a dress they’re sewin’ on. It’s why I’m a bachelor at thirty-five and proud of it.”

  He could see why permanent bachelorhood would be tempting. A lizard skittled out of his way and out of sight as he heaved onto the final limb and rose carefully to a standing position. The last thing he wanted was to wake the entire house with a crash and a boom and be caught in a crumpled heap on the ground outside Meredith’s bedroom. Her parents weren’t likely to be understanding. The bough beneath his soles groaned with his weight as he caught hold of the lip of the windowsill.

  Being this near to her calmed him. The curtains were closed, but she was behind the glass, beyond the fall of muslin, close enough that he could wake her with a few words. The comfort of knowing she was close invited memories he could not stop—Meredith’s laughter, Meredith’s dimples, the fall of her hair in the sunlight. The way she filled him with love overflowing.

  Please watch over her, Father. He set the small jewel box he’d bought in town. There. It was done. He ought to climb down and meet Braden outside the kitchen, because Sadie was packing them meals for the road, but he lingered. This would be the closest he would ever be to Meredith again.

  “Psst. Connelly.” Braden rode into sight below, saddle packs loaded. “Time to go.”

  The hardest step was the first. He tore himself away, ignoring the cruel pain. The next step down the tree was easier to stand. He swung off the lowest branch and hit the ground, leaves rustling, his heart bleeding. He could not endure looking back. The grass crunched beneath his feet, an owl gave the final hoot of the night, serenading him as he swung up into the saddle.

  Goodbye, Meredith. He gathered Hobo’s reins in wooden hands. Every bit of him went numb as he pressed his heels to the gelding’s side and rode away from the only woman he would ever love.

  Meredith woke with a start and the strangest sensation she was not alone. Dawn had yet to chase the darkness from her room as she threw back the covers, put her feet on the floor and followed the tides of her heart to the window. The muslin curtains whispered against her fingertips, soft cotton fluttering against her cheek as she drew them open. The faintest pre-dawn glow shone in the east, illuminating the underbellies of clouds and casting the view in silhouette. The maple shivered in the soft breezes and the faint clip-clop of steeled horse shoes chimed above the birdsong from the fields.

  Shane. Her hand flew to the window, the glass cool against her palms as she searched the small section of the driveway visible from her room. Nothing moved in the shadows of the road and she waited, knees knocking. Need riveted her in place, and she could not move. She was driven by the need to see him one more time, the wish to memorize what she could of him and the longing to turn back time. If only she could relive the past knowing what she knew now. Maybe she could have kept her affections casual and her eyes wide open.

  Maybe. Then again, perhaps she had been fated to fall in love with him. She feared God had led her to Shane for some reason she could not guess. She had made a mess of it. She couldn’t have stopped herself from seeing the good in him—there was so much good. If only the man he had pretended to be was the real Shane Connelly. Maybe then their story would have had a different outcome.

  A shadow moved on the distant driveway. Two riders on horseback! Her gaze fixed on the one nearest to her, his familiar wide shoulders set, tall in the saddle, and her feelings soared. For a single moment she forgot their differences. Affection rushed through her stronger than any force, diminishing her anger and betrayal. Love clung stubbornly, like roots to the earth, refusing to let go.

  Time would do that, she told herself. There would come a day when he would be a vague memory. If time was kind, then she would forget every detail about him—his dimpled smile, his easy humor, the feel of his hand cradling hers, even his name. A lump rose in her throat as he rode out of her sight, disappearing down the road, gone to her forever. Still she yearned for him like winter missed spring and she almost didn’t see the small jewel box glinting in the first light of dawn.

  Heart pounding, she opened the window. The warm sun on her face felt out of place on this morning of loss, the scenery of the green grasses and trees and the merry splashes of purple and yellow flowers discordant. Those colors grew into blurs as she blinked hard to clear her vision and lifted the trinket from
the sill.

  What had he left her? Trembling, she opened the lid. Inside the exquisite box of ivory lay a piece of gold jewelry. The telltale ticking told her it was no locket, but a timepiece. Something every teacher needed.

  She was not the sort of girl who cried over a man, but tears fell anyway, one by one, pieces of her soul she could not hold back.

  “Meredith!” Minnie’s voice came as if from a mile away instead of next to her on the buggy seat. “Meredith? We’re here.”

  At school. She felt fuzzy, as if she were looking at the world through a mirror, that it was only a reflection of little substance. She gathered her bag and lunch and didn’t bother to wait for the new driver to help her down. He was a gangly boy from Angelina’s grade who’d had to drop out of school to help earn a living for his family. Nice enough, but she could not stand to have him help her. It would only be another reminder of Shane.

  “Meredith!” Kate called as she climbed out of her father’s buggy. “Can you believe it? Two more days of school and then we’re done. We’re free.”

  “Unbelievable.” It didn’t seem real—not the morning, not the fact that Shane’s departure was a rip in the fabric of her life that left everything in tatters, and surely not the fact that her school days would end. She’d been dreaming about the day, hoping and planning for it, yet now it struck her like a falling anvil. She would no longer see her dearest friends every day.

  “Bye, Pa!” Kate called out cheerfully, waving as her father drove off, horse and buggy joining the busy traffic on the road. “I studied and studied last night and I’m ready for the tests today.”

  “Tests?” Her schoolwork had completely flown out of her mind.

  “Arithmetic and history.” Kate fell in stride beside her. A boy ran across their path, chasing a red ball. Little children’s squeals of delight pealed until someone yelled, “Tag! You’re it!”

  “Meredith, are you all right? You seem distracted. It wouldn’t have anything to do with a handsome black-haired, blue-eyed man?”