His Redeeming Bride

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Now as he scanned the shelves at the mercantile, he realized he had no idea what a woman like Sarah would want. Cassie liked flashy, sparkly, lacy things. But Sarah wasn’t Cassie, a fact that often relieved him. However, even if the contrast between Cassie and Sarah was like night and day, he figured women liked beautiful things.

  A girl with blond curls and a blue dress bumped into his leg. Startled, he glanced down at the four year old.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He smiled. “I’m the one who should apologize, Rachel. I’m blocking your way to the candy.” Looking up, he saw the girl’s mother who held a one-year-old boy. “Good morning, Mrs. Larson.”

  Mary Larson returned his smile. “Good morning, Neil. How are you and Emily?”

  “We’re fine. I think she’s starting to realize Cassie’s not coming back.”

  “Her aunt’s been sick an awfully long time.”

  He suspected that Mary knew there was more to the story, though she kept it to herself. He silently thanked her for her compassion in the matter. “Yes, and there’s no cure for her.”

  Nodding, she shifted her son to her other hip. “I keep praying for you, Neil.”

  “Thank you, Mary. You’re one of the few people who seem to think there’s hope for me.” He chuckled as her son pulled her bonnet off her head and tossed it to the floor. “Let me get that,” he said, retrieving the blue object off the floor and handing it to her. “I see that Rachel and Adam are doing well.”

  She laughed and took the bonnet from him. “When Adam’s not grabbing things, he manages fairly well.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Craftsman, Mrs. Larson,” the owner, Ralph Lindon, greeted them as he walked over to them. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Ladies first,” Neil offered when she looked at him.

  Nodding, she turned to Ralph. “I was wondering if your new hats came in today? My old one is ready to wear through.”

  A hat. Sarah would need a hat to go with her new dress. He couldn’t have her wearing a black hat with light colors. He watched as Ralph showed Sarah five new hats that recently came in. Making his way to the sewing supplies, he picked up a green ribbon and a pin in the shape of a yellow flower. Both would make suitable accessories on a hat.

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

  Neil looked over his shoulder to see if the man was talking to him, but Hubert Jones stood in front of Preacher Amos. “Caroline is completely rebellious and I blame it all on Sarah Donner.”

  “A woman who’s not married is a dangerous creature,” the preacher agreed. “We must find Sarah a husband as soon as possible.”

  “But what good will it do to find her a husband when we don’t even know how to find her? It’s like she fell off the face of the earth.”

  “We’ll find her, Hubert. Omaha isn’t so big that we can’t find a sheep that’s gone astray.”

  “I hope it’s soon. I don’t like the way Caroline’s been acting ever since that night Sarah came by for supper. She’s gotten it into her head that she won’t cook or clean for me until I let Jane play the piano. I tell you, the devil is behind this.”

  “Rebellion in the house is a bad thing.” The preacher took a deep breath and rubbed his bald head. “We’ll get things settled.”

  At least Neil now had an idea of what bothered Sarah. After he selected a hat and a bow for Emily, he purchased his items and headed for the entrance. As he opened the door, he nearly bumped into Mary’s husband.

  “Sorry, Dave.”

  Dave gave a slight nod but refused to make eye contact with him.

  Neil cleared his throat and hurried around the formidable man.

  He wound his way through pedestrians on the boardwalk until he got to his horse. Placing the hat, ribbon, pin, and bow in his leather pouch, he hastened to his business meeting.

  Dan Adair waited for him outside the bank. “Good to see you, Mr. Craftsman.”

  Neil shook the older man’s hand. “The pleasure is mine.” He held the door and waited for Dan to enter the small building.

  Dan shook his head. “I’d like to have a drink at the saloon before we discuss payment.”

  He followed Dan’s gaze to the tall building across the street, though he didn’t have to since he knew exactly where the saloon was. He had visited it often enough before he married Cassie. Uncertain, he cleared his throat. “To be honest, Mr. Adair, I’d rather not.”

  “Why?”

  Shifting from one foot to the other, he replied, “Because I don’t go there anymore.”

  Dan threw back his head and laughed.

  Noting the curious looks from the patrons inside the bank, he closed the door and moved to the side so he wouldn’t prevent the flow of traffic on the boardwalk. “It’s true. I haven’t been there in eight years.”

  “Now I know you’re pulling my leg. People saw you in there five years ago.”

  His heart thumping and heat rising to his face, he struggled to remain calm. “That was a mistake.”

  “Hey, I’m fine with it, pal.” Dan slapped him on the shoulder. “Believe me. I’ve had my share of alcohol and women. It certainly is a good way to celebrate a major business transaction, don’t you think?”

  “No. It’s not. I used to think it was fun, but I learned that it leaves a man feeling empty and a woman feeling degraded.”

  Dan’s laughter grew louder, attracting attention from several men and women as they passed by.

  “Please, Mr. Adair. People are starting to stare,” Neil whispered.

  “You can’t be serious about not having a drink with me in the saloon.”

  He gritted his teeth when he realized that Dan wasn’t going to lower his voice.

  Dan stopped laughing. “Aren’t you being too strict?”

  “No. I don’t engage in that behavior anymore.”

  “But five years ago-”

  “Was five years ago,” he firmly interrupted. “I’m not the same man I was then. I beg your pardon, sir, but I’d rather deal with business and go home.”

  Dan scowled. “I don’t think this deal is suitable after all. Imagine you, of all people, being a hypocrite. I expected better of you.”

  Neil watched as Dan pushed past the crowd and strode down the boardwalk. With Dan went a large profit. Irritated, Neil stared at the onlookers. “Don’t you all have anything better to do than to watch men conduct business?”

  They quickly dispersed.

  To his surprise, Hubert Jones and Preacher Amos shook their heads at him. “What?” Neil demanded, glowering at them.

  “A leopard never changes his spots,” the preacher said. “Your little display of holiness doesn’t fool anyone.”

  “You allow a young widow and her son to starve to death on the street and you dare lecture me about holiness?”

  The minute he spoke, he regretted his words, for it wouldn’t take long before the uppity men realized whom he spoke about.

  “I’m out of here!” Neil huffed past them and hustled to his horse.

  Hubert Jones yelled after him, “People don’t forget what kind of man you really are, no matter how good you pretend to be!”

  Yanking the reins on his stallion, Neil hopped onto his horse, noticing that Dave and Mary Larson happened to hear Hubert’s comment. He couldn’t handle Dave’s wary expression anymore than he could handle Mary’s sympathetic one. He needed to get out of town, and he couldn’t get out fast enough. Digging his heels into the horse’s sides, he rode the stallion hard out of there, caring little if anyone stared or not.

  There’s only so much a man can take. Why can’t they just let the past go? It’s been seven years and I haven’t done anything since then. And no one knows what happened that night five years ago.

  Five years ago was when his life, his heart, had changed. He recalled it as if it was yesterday...

  Neil gulped another shot of whiskey and slammed the glass on the table at the saloon. Counting the money in his pocket, he set
some on the bar and made his way up the steps. His feet were a little unsteady but he was sober enough to enjoy himself. He found the head soil dove who waited for customers in her bedroom. She sat, lounging on her chair, her bodice barely covering her body. She was working on her ledger books.

  He leaned against the doorframe, ignoring the loud cheers from downstairs as another poker game ended. “Would you like to add some more to your profits tonight?”

  A smile crossed her face as she turned her gaze in his direction. “Mr. Craftsman, I was beginning to think we’d never see you again.”

  She moved so that he caught a generous view of her cleavage. His body tightened in response. She turned from the ledger book and stood up. Swinging her hips in a manner that aroused him all the more, she twirled her blond hair around her fingers. Though she was forty, she could still bring a man’s blood to a boil. He handed her the required fees.

  She counted the money and peered up at him. “Did you have a particular woman in mind? Eliza and Joyce are free at the moment.”

  Eliza. He remembered her. No matter what mood he was in, she managed to make him feel good. He needed that tonight. “Eliza.”

  The woman winked at him. “She’ll be thrilled.” Slipping her arm through his, she led him to Eliza’s room and knocked. “Eliza, you’ll never guess who’s here.”

  The door opened and the redhead with a luscious body which was hidden in a robe gasped. “Oh my goodness. Neil, is that really you?”

  He smiled. It had been almost a year since he and Cassie had shared a bed together, and he recalled their last time. For all the interest she had shown him, she might as well have been dead. After that, he lost any motivation to have relations with her. He settled into a loveless marriage, and he had been faithful the entire time. But seeing Cassie in bed with another man earlier that day, obviously enjoying herself, was the final straw. If she could go off and sleep around, so could he. Only, he knew better than to get personally involved with another woman, which made the soiled doves at the saloon a perfect option. There were no expectations so no hearts would be broken. Just a simple transaction to take care of his needs and their pocket books.

  The redhead slid her arm through his and led him into her room. “I sure missed you,” she cooed, bringing his thoughts back to the present.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You did, did you?”

  “Of course. You tip better than other men.”

  He laughed. “I got to give you credit for honesty. You never were one to hold back, Eliza.”

  She closed the door and winked. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re good in bed.”

  “Now that is something I need to hear.” He pulled her to him and kissed her, letting his hands caress the soft curve of her back, relishing the way her breasts pressed against his chest. “You feel good,” he whispered. He brushed her neck with his lips. He loved how soft and feminine women were. “I may have to pay your boss so I can spend more time with you. Once may not be enough.” Especially when it’s been so long.

  “I’m sure we can arrange something. I certainly don’t mind.” Eliza removed his jacket and hat and set them on the chair next to the bed. She glanced over her shoulder and gave a knowing smile in his direction. “I can see that you’re eager to get started.”

  He cleared his throat as her eyes drifted to the evidence of his arousal. He should have been embarrassed, but she did this for a living and knew what to do to turn men on, so he didn’t bother hiding it. Instead, he unbuttoned the first three buttons on his blue shirt while she slipped out of her robe. His heart raced with excitement as she settled on her pink sheets, her bed squeaking under her slim weight.

  She arched her back and rested her hands over her head, her legs slightly parted. “How long has it been since your wife took care of you, Neil?” she softly asked.

  Shrugging, he took off his shoes and lumbered to her. “About a year, I think.”

  “Marriage isn’t what you expected then?”

  The sympathy in her voice caught him by surprise. “No.”

  “I hear that all the time, you know. It seems to me that marriage isn’t as great as people make it out to be. If it was, a man wouldn’t feel the need to seek comfort outside the home.”

  Removing his shirt, he let it drop to the floor and sat on the bed, running his hand over her hip. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Not many men do. Very well. I’m here to please you. Just tell me what you want and I’ll oblige.”

  He moved his hand up and over her breasts. “Respond to me. Act like you want to do this.” Even as he said it, he chided himself. Fool. Don’t be weak. But he was, and it scared him. Cassie’s indifference to him in bed had more of an impact on him than he thought. I’m not here to think of her. He leaned over to kiss Eliza, the scent of perfume and sex with her other customers drifted into his awareness.

  She moaned and pressed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

  Now this is what he wanted. He maneuvered his body so that he was lying on top of her, holding her tight and deepening his kisses. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he found himself fighting back tears. Why couldn’t Cassie do the same? Would it kill her to show some affection? No. I’m not here to think of her! I’m here to forget her.

  Realizing there was one surefire way to forget her, he straightened up and knelt in front of Eliza who was the very image of sensuality with her legs and arms open to him. There. All he had to do was focus on that image and enjoying himself wouldn’t be a problem. He managed to unbuckle his belt when something fell out of his pocket. The clank of a shiny object bouncing off the hardwood floor brought everything around him to a screeching halt.

  Pulse racing, he jumped up and got on his hands and knees to retrieve the item from under the bed.

  “What is it, honey?” Eliza asked, moving so she could look at what caught his attention.

  Honey. That’s what he called Emily. Two-year-old Emily. Grabbing the silver button, he recalled his daughter giving him the item that had fallen off her doll’s dress. He wanted to put it back on but she protested. “Love you, Pa. Yours.”

  Emily. He closed his eyes for a moment, his thoughts pushing past the alcohol he consumed. Her face formed in his mind. Her wide green eyes, sweet smile, and pretty black curls tumbling around her heart-shaped face. “I love you too,” he had told her. And he did. She was his daughter.

  Then his eyes opened and he looked at Eliza. She was someone’s daughter. Her father had probably looked at her when she was little and loved her too. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. My God. This could be Emily someday. Bolting to his feet, he stumbled for his shoes and slipped them on, his fingers trembling as they worked the laces.

  “Neil. What’s wrong?” Eliza asked, sitting up.

  “I can’t do this. You deserve better than this.” His voice choked on the tears that threatened to emerge. Yanking his shirt and belt off the floor, he rushed out of the room, ignoring Eliza’s questions and the snickers from men and women as he passed through the saloon. He pushed through the front door and ran until he found an alley where he tripped.

  He emptied the contents of his stomach until he had nothing left. His fingers dug into the cool fabric of his shirt and the leather of his belt as he willed his nausea to go away. A wind passed over him and calmed his stomach. Relieved for the reprieve, he sat back, leaning against the brick wall of the building next to him. He inhaled the fresh air, noting the soothing contrast between that and the stale smell of perfume and sex in Eliza’s room.

  “What am I doing?” he asked.

  His heart constricted, sending the tears, and he no longer held them back. His life was a mess. One big, complete mess. He had a wife who didn’t love him, a daughter who wasn’t his, and barely enough money to get through the upcoming winter. Cassie drained his bank account, but some gambling had afforded him one night with a prostitute, someone he had to pay to enjoy being with him. But what if Emily had bee
n in Eliza’s position tonight? The thought made his stomach roll and he heaved.

  For the next half hour, he remained still, eyes closed and shivering as he mentally worked through his life, and for the first time, he saw it for what it was. He made the decisions that led him to this point. He thought visiting the soiled doves and sowing his wild oats was fun. Some of the men he did business with did it, so it couldn’t be wrong...or so he reasoned. But it was wrong, and coming here tonight had been a horrible mistake. Those women weren’t treated with respect. They were merely a means to an end. He would kill a man who dared to treat Emily the way he had been treating them. Self-loathing filled him like thick bile.

  How could he do that to someone else’s daughter? I’m doomed. There is no redemption for a man like me.

  “Sir, do you need help?”

  Neil opened his eyes and saw an older man wearing a suit. He stood in front of him, concern in his eyes.

  “You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” the man said. “If you’d like, I’ll take you home and Martha will brew us a pot. Then we can talk.”

  Neil was ready to protest but the man’s kind smile was like balm for his shattered soul. Nodding, Neil stood up and shrugged into his shirt. “I don’t make it a habit of vomiting in an alley,” he said, his voice low.

  “Do you get drunk often?”

  “No. I usually don’t drink at all.” Neil slipped his belt through the loops in his pants. “I try to keep a clear head.”

  “Something bad must have happened to drive you to drink.”

  Neil buckled his belt and arched an eyebrow. “You’re perceptive.”

  “Either that or able to use common sense. Do you want to talk about it?”

  He sighed, weighing the pros and cons of opening up to a complete stranger. Finally, he decided he had nothing to lose. It wasn’t like most of the town didn’t already know his past indiscretions. He recalled how ashamed Cassie had been when she found out. Not that she turned out to be any different. She just happened to hide her activities better than he did.