Mail Order Runaway
Page 24
His head snapped up, and she saw tears shining in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I…you were about to tell me that you can’t live with me anymore…weren’t you?”
The color bled from Gideon’s face as he stared at her, speechless. Then the color flooded back in as he sputtered angrily. “No, it was not! Do…” he shook his head, swallowing. “Do you have any idea how worried I was today? How desperate I was to find you? I was willing to perish out in that wretched storm before I’d return home—to our home—without my wife!”
“But…I lied to you. I pretended—”
“I don’t care if you pretended to be the queen of England. I don’t care who Adelaide McGilvray is—I only care about you. When I realized how much danger you were it, it was you I thought of, you I worried about, you I wanted in my arms. You, with your half-baked biscuits and your torn laundry and your insane preoccupation with sheep!” he laughed, blinking back tears. “You, my wife, my Elinor, are the one I fell in love with. Not some stranger who wrote me letters. I liked that girl…but I love you.”
“You…love me?” For a moment she thought maybe she had lost her mind…maybe she was still out in the storm, dreaming all these things, just as she had before she lost consciousness. She had dreamed so many glorious things, but this…this was better than any dream.
“Of course I do, you silly woman!” he choked, trying to hold back his tears. “Who wouldn’t love you?” He took her hands in his, stroking her still-cold hands with his warm ones. “I’m so sorry I lost my temper. I should have given you a chance. You tried to explain, and I cut you off. It’s my fault you were out there alone.” His eyes drifted to the window, where frost clung to the glass panes.
“No, it was stupid for me to have done that. You were right—I ran, just like your father ran—”
“Don’t,” he snapped, looking back to her with a flash of anger. “Never compare yourself to that man. Yes, you developed a habit of avoiding your problems, even to the point of running from them. But that’s done now. Isn’t it?”
She nodded fervently. “I’ll never leave you again. Never, no matter what happens.” She let go of his hands to lay her own hands along his cheeks. “I love you, Gideon Cartwright! I started falling in love with you the moment I stepped off that train, and I grow more in love with you every day. I’m here to stay…come what may, it’s the only place I’ll ever want to be.”
He kissed her—a long, lingering kiss that left her lips tingling when he pulled away.
“Good. Because I’m never letting you leave my side.”
***
That night, Gideon cuddled up to Elinor on one of the narrow beds in the second bedroom, and they whispered for a while, getting to know one another all over again.
She told him what her life had really been like, the family and the houses she grew up in, and why she decided to leave Boston. She explained all the events leading up to her stepping off the train in Helena instead of Addie. He was glad to find out that she had come back that day with the intention of telling him the truth, even before reading Addie’s letter.
“But please, Elinor, you have to promise never to lie or hide things like that from me again, or pretend to be something you’re not. Because you’re a darn fine catch, just as you are.”
She giggled. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve spent so many months feeling inadequate. Like Cinderella, the girl dressed in rags, from the fairy tale…and I’m married to the prince.”
“I hardly compare to a prince.”
“Oh, you’re my prince. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and you’ve given me the life I’ve always wanted…and what’s more, you showed me the kind of love I never knew existed. Deeper and more real than any romance novelist could concoct.”
He kissed her on the nose. “Well, dear wife, it’s time we both went to sleep. You’re barely conscious as it is.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted…until she was overtaken by an enormous yawn. “Alright, I suppose I am tired.”
“The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can begin your first real day as Elinor Cartwright.”
Oh, how lovely that sounded!
Epilogue
Christmas Eve, 1890
The Cartwright Farm
The wind whistled, blowing snow in the back door as Gideon stomped off his boots and stepped inside. He wiped the worst of the wet snow from them and took them off, then hung up his hat and coat with a sigh.
“I got that hole patched up good and tight in the sheep shed, so that troublesome ram won’t be getting back onto the ewes’ side of the shed before his time.” He moved to the sink to pump icy water to wash his hands with.
“There’s a basin in the sink, filled from the hot water reservoir,” Elinor said, coming in from the parlor and kissing him on the cheek. “I had a feeling you were about ready to come in, so I just filled it a minute ago.”
“Oh boy, do I ever love you!” he grinned, and washed his hands in the almost-hot water in the basin. “It was a heck of a job—that old ram made a mess of that wall, tearing it open. I sure wish Emmett had been here to help—I could have used an extra set of hands.”
“You miss him, don’t you?” She laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Nah,” he said, his face bland.
But Elinor knew that was a fib. He missed his brother terribly. He’d been disappointed that he couldn’t convince Emmett to stay the winter with them.
“It would have been great to have him here, sure. But you’re right—he’s a grown man, and if he’s going to ever settle down, it needs to be his decision.”
He took Elinor into his arms and kissed her. She savored the sweet warmth of his lips for a moment, then she pulled back and looked up, admiring the handsome, chiseled line of his jaw.
“Emmett is a good man. Someday he’ll realize the life he’s chasing is an empty one, and he’ll give up his carousing.”
“I hope you’re right. He seems to have inherited Pa’s fondness for adventure and indulgence.”
“He’s not nearly as wild as your Pa. I do think you should tell him what your Pa was actually doing in Butte, and how he really died. I think some small part of him still idolizes your father. Perhaps if he knew the full truth, he’d see the error of the path he’s chosen.”
“No.” Gideon frowned. “I’ve told you, I promised Ma I’d never tell my brother or sisters the truth. It would kill them.”
“But surely she’d want you to, if it meant stopping Emmett from following the same path.”
“There’s no guarantee it will. He could be so angry at me for keeping up Ma’s story that it could drive him further away—drive him to drink, or worse. I can’t take that chance.”
She lifted her hands and placed them on his cheeks, looking deep into his eyes. “I thought you were the one who faced problems head-on, and didn’t run away from confrontation.”
He stared into her eyes a moment, irritated. Then his gaze softened, and he pressed his lips together as she drew her hands away. “You’re right. I’ll think about it.” He sat at the table with a sigh, and cleared his throat. “Speaking of facing things head-on…did you write those letters you’ve been talking about?”
She pursed her lips. “Not yet. I was…busy with something. But there’s no rush, with the weather looking the way it does. I don’t think we’ll get to church tomorrow, or hear the choir singing Christmas carols.”
“I suspect you’re right. But it’s been more than two weeks since you received your parents’ reply. I think you should answer their questions.”
She sighed. “You’re right. They’re still so angry. I wish I could just go into town and pick up a telephone and talk to them directly. It would be easier.”
Gideon laughed. “Just because they’ve figured out how to make a telephone connection from Atlanta to Chicago doesn’t mean you should expect far-distant telephone calls from Boston to Montana. We’re just too far from the rest of ‘civili
zation’ for them to bother. Besides, you’d avoid telephoning them just as much as you avoid writing them a letter.”
Elinor was chagrined to realize he was right. “I know I shouldn’t put it off. They were just so irate—especially the part about us having to re-do our wedding. I told them that the minister said he thought our union was valid in the eyes of God, but perhaps not so much in the eyes of the State of Montana. I made it clear it was just a formality, but…well…I’ve told you how important other people’s opinions are to them.” She blinked back the tears, determined not to let her feelings about her parents’ letter ruin Christmas Eve.
“They’ll come around.”
“I’m sure you’re right. I’ll write them before bed tomorrow. I need to write Addie, anyway. She’s forgiven me for putting her in such an awful position, and now that I know she’s still my friend, I can start working on getting her to move out to Montana.”
“Move—here?”
She nodded. “I’ve always dreamed of the two of us living near one another. I miss her.”
“I know you do, but…don’t you think it would be awkward? Not to mention, she wouldn’t have abandoned her plans to move out here in the first place, if she had been eager to live in Helena.”
“But that was before I was here. I’ve seen Montana first-hand, and I can tell her exactly what it’s like. And she’ll have me here! I’m going to talk to Madeline, and see if she’ll give Addie a second chance.”
“Does she even want a second chance?”
Elinor waved his objections away. “She will when I’m through with her. Just wait and see. Madeline will find her the perfect bridegroom in no time!”
Gideon chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re insane.” He pulled her close, his arm circling her waist, and looking up with a twinkle in his eye. “And for some strange reason, I like that about you.”
“I’m glad.” She kissed him on the nose. “Now, supper is on the stove just waiting for that hungry belly of yours—”
“Fantastic!” He let out a whoop.
“—but before we get started—”
Gideon groaned.
“—I want to give you one of your Christmas presents, a day early.”
“Aww, that’ll spoil the surprise,” he said, looking longingly at the pan of onion and sausages keeping warm on the stove.
She tugged on his hand, and he stood. “Now, now, indulge your wife for just one moment. Then we’ll eat. I promise.”
“Fine,” he sighed, in an exaggerated, put-upon tone—but the hint of a smile betrayed him.
She led him by the hand into the parlor, where she pointed for him to sit on the settee.
“Close your eyes, and hold out your arms. Like you’re going to catch a big sack of flour.”
“I hope it’s not as heavy as a sack of flour—you throw like a girl. I’ll get smashed in the face.”
She giggled and tip-toed out of the room, returning with the homemade gift draped across her arms. Her heart fluttered—she was anxious to see his reaction. She’d been working hard to sew it whenever she knew he’d be working for at least a few hours outside, but with the terrible weather lately, that hadn’t happened as often as she would have liked.
She laid the bundle gingerly in his arms, and she saw his brow furrow as he tried to figure out what it was.
“Something you sewed for me?”
“I just finished it not long before you came in. You can open your eyes now.”
He opened his eyes to see the neatly-folded bundle in his arms. Elinor had used a simple four-patch pattern made up calico blocks in shades of blue, red and brown.
He took it in his hands and unfolded it. “This is a little small for a quilt…” his words drifted off as the gift’s meaning struck him, and his jaw dropped. He gazed at it a few moments, then looked up at her with an expression of shock and joy. “A baby?”
She nodded as tears pricked her eyes.
“We’re having a baby?”
Elinor nodded again, and he launched out of the chair, hooking her around the waist and spinning her in circles. Then he set her down with a look of horror. “Oh gosh, I shouldn’t have—are you alright? Is the baby—?”
“We’re fine! Everything is fine.”
“How long have you known?” He gazed in wonder at the baby quilt in his hand.
“A few weeks now. I’ve been rushing to make this whenever you’re not around, but you never seem to leave!” she laughed.
“Why would I want to leave?” he said, staring at her flat belly in awe. He placed his hand on it and gazed into her eyes. “I have everything I need, right here.”
###
If you enjoyed Mail Order Runaway, look for Book 4 in the Montana Mail Order Brides series, coming in March 2014!
About the Author:
Julianna Blake is a historical romance author who was born in the wrong century, and enjoys creating worlds where she (and her readers) can walk around in a lovely silk day dress and feel right at home!
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