Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set

by Lacy Williams

  As if to mock her resolve, she caught sight of Caleb and his daughters crossing the street. Her stomach performed a quick, hard roll. Caleb was handsome in all black save for his crisp white shirt. The girls were absolutely adorable all wrapped up in matching blue coats, mittens, hats and scarves.

  “Miss Ellie,” one of the two bundles shouted as she lifted her hand in a wave.

  “Hello, Hannah,” Ellie called out in return.

  The child’s eyes widened. “How did you know it was me?”

  The little girl’s surprise was understandable. Ellie doubted many people could tell the twins apart. On first glance the girls were identical. But they had very different personalities.

  Hannah held herself with more confidence than her sister. She was certainly more precocious. Her smile also came quicker, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  Clearly impatient for an answer to her question, Hannah jammed two tiny fists on her hips. “Did you really know it was me or did you just guess?”

  Holding back a laugh, Ellie smiled down at the gregarious child. “Actually, I can tell you apart from your sister rather easily.”

  “You can? That’s really, kind of…” Hannah seemed to search for the right word “…amazing.”

  “Yes,” Grace agreed, slipping in front of her sister so she could join the conversation. “Very, very amazing.”

  Not for the first time, Ellie felt a need to pull the two girls close. They were smart and sweet, the kind of children any teacher would be glad to have in her classroom. And that any woman would be proud to mother as if they were her own children.

  Careful, her better judgment warned for the hundredth time in a smattering of days. Remember your place.

  Hannah attempted to reclaim her spot in front of Ellie, all but shoving her sister out of the way.

  Silent until now, Caleb muttered something to the girls then set a hand on each of his daughter’s shoulders. The gesture was all it took to put an immediate end to their jockeying for position.

  Impressed, Ellie lifted her gaze to meet his.

  His eyes were dark beneath the brim of his hat, his smile a mere tilt of one corner of his mouth. Ellie thought she detected a hint of humor in his expression, and something that looked like affection. For her, or the girls, or all three?

  The responding hope in Ellie’s heart felt too intimate, too real. How was she supposed to remain immune to the man when he looked at her like…like…that?

  “It’s good to see you again this morning.” His deep voice fell over her soft as a caress.

  She swallowed back a sigh. “Good to see you, too.”

  Their gazes held a long, silent beat. As always, whenever he gave her his undivided attention, an unspoken message passed between them, one Ellie didn’t fully understand. Right then, in that moment, she somehow felt less alone.

  Which made little sense. She wasn’t alone. She had her father, and would soon add his future bride, Betsy, to the ranks of her family.

  And yet, with Caleb eyeing her so closely, his gaze soft and welcoming, a warm sensation moved through her. Ellie couldn’t help but think of far-off dreams and a happily settled future.

  “Will you sit with us during service?” Hannah asked.

  Touched by the request, Ellie once again smiled down at the child. “If it’s all right with your father, then, yes, I’d like that very much.”

  “As would I.” Caleb held out his hand to her.

  Ellie accepted the silent call without hesitation, then just as smoothly, reached out and grasped hold of one of Grace’s hands. Caleb took one of Hannah’s and the four of them entered the church linked together.

  Caleb steered their tiny group to one of the middle pews. A lot of shuffling and giggling ensued as he and Ellie removed the children’s hats, coats and gloves. Almost as soon as they were settled in their chosen seats, the girls between the adults, the strains of the first hymn filled the church.

  As if the organist and Ellie were in cahoots—which, admittedly, they were—the song was “What Child Is This?”

  Hannah and Grace launched into the tune with great enthusiasm. Grace had a better memory than her sister, but Hannah caught up at the end of each line, all but shouting the words sleeping and then keeping.

  Eyes dancing in amusement, Caleb chuckled softly. Ellie glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

  “I believe a bit of practice at home is in order,” he whispered for her ears only.

  They shared a smile over the children’s heads. Other young voices joined in the song, voices that belonged to children in the play. Ellie’s heart soared. Evidently her second rehearsal had been a success.

  The rest of the service went quickly. Her father’s sermon was on God’s love given to mankind in the gift of His Son, an appropriate message for the season. After the congregation sang the last hymn, her father dismissed them all with a prayer and a blessing for the coming week.

  Ellie and Caleb went through the arduous process of swathing the twins in their winter weather gear. She then escorted the Voss family around the back of the church and into the tiny room off the kitchen of the parsonage where she and Caleb once again began unraveling two squirming children from coats, gloves, scarves and hats.

  A pleasant female voice rang out from the kitchen beyond. “Do I hear the sound of familiar laughter?”

  “You do, indeed,” Ellie called out in response.

  Betsy Anderson, the woman engaged to Ellie’s father and who also served as Caleb’s housekeeper, stuck her head around the corner. Her light brown eyes peeked out from behind wire-framed glasses and, in what Ellie considered Betsy’s no-nonsense style, her gold-streaked, brown hair hung in a single braid down her back.

  Somewhere in her late thirties, maybe early forties, the other woman’s face was slightly lined, probably due as much to her worry for her dying sister as from age.

  At the moment, however, Betsy’s pleasantly round features wore a happy smile. Her cheeks were pink from exertion, as if she’d hurried to the house and then went to work immediately after the service, perhaps even before the final hymn was sung. She was going to make a wonderful pastor’s wife.

  The Voss girls squealed in delight when they were finally free of their coats and saw their housekeeper smiling down at them.

  “Miss Betsy, Miss Betsy,” they said in tandem. “Did you hear us singing in church this morning?”

  “I most certainly did.”

  “Want to hear the song again?” Hannah asked.

  “I do, yes.” She held up a hand to forestall the impromptu concert. “After we eat dinner.”

  Their little faces fell.

  Ellie quickly took control of the situation. “Come on, girls. Let’s get you washed up for dinner.”

  Giving them no chance to argue, she guided them to the washbasin. Halfway through the room, she heard Caleb inquire after Betsy’s sister.

  “Her health is failing by the day.”

  Ellie’s heart went out to Betsy, as well as the sister she loved and the woman’s young son. As she helped the twins wash their hands and faces, Ellie lifted up a silent prayer for Clara Driscoll and her boy, Brody.

  Lord, be with them today and always, bring them the peace that can only come from You, the peace that surpasses all understanding.

  Having lost her own mother at sixteen, Ellie knew the sorrow Brody suffered as he helplessly watched his mother die.

  Heart in her throat, she looked down at the Voss twins. They, too, had lost their mother, at a much younger age than Brody. How much of Lizzie did they remember?

  No woman could ever replace their mother, but Ellie prayed that whomever Caleb married would love his daughters as her own. That woman wouldn’t be Ellie. Not because she couldn’t see herself loving Hannah and Grace, but because she could also see herself loving Caleb.

  That love would only bring her heartache. Caleb wanted a very different kind of marriage than Ellie did. No good would come from building up hope that one day he�
��d change his mind.

  She must focus on her own future. She’d already sent out queries for another teaching position. Though jobs rarely opened up in the middle of the school year, she was confident the Lord would provide in His time. She simply needed to have faith. And patience.

  She set aside the towel in her hand. “All done.”

  “Thank you, Miss Ellie.”

  The girls hugged her, then ran off to find their father and Betsy. Ellie stayed behind, her mind traveling back in time to the pain and humiliation of being judged for something her brother had done.

  When she’d told Monroe the entire story of Everett’s crime, she’d expected him to give her the same grace and understanding her father showed the members of his flock. Ellie had terribly underestimated the widowed preacher’s capacity for forgiveness.

  It was telling that she missed Monroe’s daughters more than she missed him. In fact, she missed her teaching position more than the prospect of marrying him.

  Even though matters hadn’t turned out as she’d hoped, Ellie’s dream of becoming a wife and mother still lived in her heart. Wiser now, she promised herself that whomever she eventually married, he would love her with his whole heart.

  She would settle for nothing less.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb stepped into the Wainwrights’ living room and took in all the Christmas decorations. A sense of homecoming slipped through him, calming his soul, reminding him of the kind of home he wanted to provide for his family, not only at Christmastime but all year long.

  Standing here, looking at the festive living room, he tried to recall the last time he’d been in this house. It had to be before he’d married Lizzie. Not much had changed in the years during his absence.

  The furniture, positioned in the same places, still looked comfortable and inviting. If he closed his eyes, he would still be able to navigate around the overstuffed sofa, the brocade-covered chairs, the piano and various tables. He could walk to the wallpaper and run his fingers along the swirling floral pattern.

  He’d spent many happy days in this house, the family treating him as if he was just another Wainwright son.

  Guilt clogged the breath in his lungs.

  He should have kept in closer contact with Reverend Wainwright. The man had lost his wife to illness, his son to prison and then his daughter to a job in Colorado Springs.

  As if his thoughts could conjure up the man himself, the reverend came up behind Caleb and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you accepted my invitation. It’s been too long since you were in this home.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Reverend.”

  “Don’t be.” The man’s eyes held nothing but acceptance. “You’re in a busy season of life, still grieving your wife and raising five-year-old daughters on your own.”

  “I’m not completely on my own,” he countered. “Your future wife has been a godsend these past ten months, keeping my house in order and caring for the girls.”

  “My Betsy is a generous woman.”

  Too generous, he knew. She had enough of her own concerns with her nephew and dying sister, yet she still managed to help out Caleb and his tiny family.

  He really needed to find a wife, sooner rather than later. After the chaos Lizzie had brought into their home, after the long absences, the not knowing how long she would be gone, or if she would ever return, Caleb was determined to restore order in his home. His daughters deserved stability. They deserved a carefully controlled, ordered life.

  There could be no more unnecessary upheaval in their lives.

  As if reading his thoughts, Reverend Wainwright addressed the situation directly. “I hear you’ve enlisted Mrs. Jenson in your search for a bride.”

  Caleb resisted the impulse to correct the other man. He wasn’t looking for a bride, but rather a mother for the girls.

  To say as much would be splitting hairs. The important point was that the owner of the local boardinghouse was on the hunt for a suitable woman for Caleb to marry. “Mrs. Jenson seems confident she’ll have success soon.”

  The woman knew his parameters, knew he only wanted a marriage of convenience.

  Would she find him a wife in time for Christmas?

  The holiday was three weeks away and Betsy was marrying Reverend Wainwright on New Year’s Eve. Even without the concerns with her sister, Caleb would soon be without help.

  “Betsy and I have discussed your situation and we’ve decided she’ll continue working for you until you can find a suitable bride.”

  Caleb blinked at the other man, humbled by the offer. Once she married Jedidiah Wainwright, Betsy would take on the role of a pastor’s wife, which would require all sorts of additional tasks besides simply running his home. She would visit the sick, as well as deliver aid to the poor and less fortunate.

  No matter how desperate his situation, Caleb couldn’t take away from others in far greater need than himself. “If Mrs. Jenson doesn’t have success soon, I’ll figure something else out.”

  Laughter came from his left. Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb watched Ellie direct his daughters to a spot on the rug, a ball and jacks in her hand.

  “The offer stands, son.”

  Son. The term washed over him like a warm summer rain. Caleb had done nothing to deserve this man’s kindness. The words from Reverend Wainwright’s sermon came back to him now. Grace is a gift undeserved and unearned, freely given to us by our Heavenly Father.

  Caleb thought of his earthly father. Harold Voss hadn’t been a bad man, just a weak one, so swallowed up with grief after his wife’s death he’d had no problem abandoning his five sons to fend for themselves.

  But Caleb hadn’t been completely alone. This man standing before him now had modeled the Heavenly Father’s love in too many ways to count.

  The back of Caleb’s eyes burned and his throat closed up tight, too tight to push words past his lips. He thought of Brody Driscoll, of the difficult days ahead. At the boy’s age Caleb had his brothers, and Everett, and the Wainwrights.

  Who did Brody have?

  He had his aunt Betsy. But the boy needed a father figure, a masculine role model.

  The thought had barely materialized when Betsy called her future husband into the kitchen to help her with moving chairs to the table.

  Caleb attempted to join the reverend, but he shook him off with a smile. “I’ve got it covered. Go spend time with your daughters.”

  “Thank you, Reverend, I believe I will.”

  He found the girls still playing jacks with Ellie. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. A sunbeam streamed through the window, backlighting her in golden splendor. Her pale blue eyes were thickly lashed and shimmered with good humor. She was as lovely and as bright as the sun behind her, her skin as lustrous as a pearl.

  Her pink lips parted in a smile and his mind emptied of everything but her. This is Ellie, he reminded himself. He knew he was in deep trouble the moment she looked in his direction.

  A profound ache spread from his heart and traveled up into his throat. Unable to resist her, he entered the room. The click of his heels on the hardwood floor was as familiar as the fixtures on the wall. The look and smell of Christmas was all around him.

  “I love your tree, Miss Ellie,” Hannah remarked in a wistful tone.

  “We don’t have one in our house,” Grace added, looking—and sounding—as forlorn as Caleb had ever witnessed.

  Regret swirled in his stomach. He’d been so focused on finding his daughters a mother he’d let the smaller, equally meaningful matters slip away from him. Just because he didn’t have a wife to provide the girls with a stable home didn’t mean he couldn’t get them a Christmas tree.

  “There’s a simple solution,” he said, stepping fully into the room, into the moment. “I’ll cut us down a tree of our own this week.”

  “Oh, Papa, do you really mean it?” The restrained joy in Grace’s eyes was mirrored in Hannah’s gaze.

  Th
eir genuine surprise came as somewhat of a blow. “I absolutely mean it.”

  The girls cheered, then hopped to their feet and rushed to him. He trapped them against his chest.

  “My dear sweet girls,” he said in a low, choked voice.

  How he loved them.

  “You’re the best, Papa,” Grace said into his shirt.

  “The very, very best,” Hannah agreed.

  Overcome with emotion, he leaned down and buried his face in their baby-fine hair that smelled of the lilac soap he’d bought at the mercantile last week.

  He felt his chest tighten with unspeakable love so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. A soft gasp came from Ellie. On impulse, he glanced over at her. Her eyes swam with some unreadable emotion. The look made him feel somehow taller, maybe even heroic.

  “If you need help decorating your tree,” she said, shifting to a standing position, “I’d love to offer my assistance.”

  The girls stepped out of his arms and proceeded to shower their enthusiasm onto Ellie.

  Caleb caught what looked like a vulnerable expression on her face. Was it a look of longing, he wondered, or was it a trick of the light?

  Betsy called them all to the table. There was a festive feel to the meal. Heaping bowls of whipped potatoes, corn and preserves were passed around, while varied conversations collided over one another.

  Why had he avoided this home?

  Why had he denied his daughters the taste of normalcy and stability he himself had found with this family?

  The meal went by in a blur.

  Once they finished eating and Betsy had set aside two plates of food for her sister and nephew, the girls asked if they could sing their song. Betsy guided the twins toward the piano in the living room.

  Reverend Wainwright joined them.

  Caleb stood beside Ellie in the doorway and watched his daughters entertain the older couple. A silence—comfortable as only one between longtime friends could be—settled over them.

  Now, he told himself, make your offer now.

  “Can we talk?” He waited for her to swing her gaze to his to finish the rest of his request. “In private?”