Blaire's Ambushed Heart

by Marlene Bierworth

  “We can snuggle close, then,” Blaire said as she shimmed tighter next to him on the seat and laid her head on his shoulder.

  Lyle slapped the lines on the backs of the team of horses and yelled out, “Hear that, Jasper? Shamus? The lady wants to get home tonight.”

  It was a long, tiresome day, indeed, and Blaire found herself nodding off on occasion only to be jolted awake when they hit the next bump. The times she’d checked on Lyle’s condition, he always appeared wide awake and in full control of the wagon.

  It felt good to have a man in charge. She never thought she’d mean it with such conviction, but it was true. Safely seated under Lyle Frazer’s care was more than she could have dreamed possible. Marriage was an agreeable state, and she thanked God for showing her the ad in the paper for a mail-order bride. It had opened a whole new world to her, and she couldn’t be more thrilled.

  Lyle nudged her awake when the town’s sign that came into view. The sun was almost disappearing beneath the horizon, and the long drive had nearly ended.

  When he pulled up and stopped in front of another sign that read, “Spalding Infirmary,” above “Dr. Lyle Frazer” printed in fancy letters, she smiled. “Home?”

  “Finally.” He pulled on the brake and jumped down from the wagon with more energy than any man should have after an entire day of driving a team of horses. He helped her down, and when they had reached the door, they found a piece of paper there, flapping in the evening breeze.

  Lyle took it in his hand and read:

  “‘Doc,

  “‘Figured I’d give you and the missus a wedding present. The ladies from town helped scrub my place, and we thought to let y’all try it on for size before you make your decision to buy it. I stacked the fireplace with wood, and there are some treats in the icebox. Sleep in the guest room, the first door upstairs on the right. Marnie Hankerson dressed it up real fine to surprise your little woman.

  “‘Breakfast is at Millie’s Diner at ten o’clock. See you there, and don’t be late. Folks want to meet Mrs. Frazer.

  “‘Old Tom.’”

  “Looks like old Tom is eager to sell the place—that, or he truly doesn’t want us not to be cooped up in the infirmary on our first night home.”

  “If we like his house, why don’t we just trade places? If he’s as old as his nickname indicates,” she smiled, “he’s probably lonely in the bigger location.”

  “There are times I have a patient overnight, and that backroom will come in handy, even when we don’t live here,” Lyle said. “Besides, old Tom plans to move onto his sister’s farm. She just lost her husband, and they can look after each other.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Good for them. Family should support one another.”

  He opened the office door, and they walked inside. “Why don’t you look around the place, and I’ll go put up the rigging at the livery. Mac lets me keep my equipment and minds my horses in exchange for free medical care. He’s rarely sick, so I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

  “It sounds like you have nice neighbors and friends in this town,” Blaire said. “I’m sure we will be very happy here.”

  Lyle took her in his arms, and they kissed under their own roof for the first time. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day, Mrs. Frazer.”

  “Do you have enough strength to drag the trunks off the wagon before you leave for the livery? I don’t want them sitting in a smelly barn.”

  “Sure, but just take out what you need for tonight,” Lyle said. “I really think you’re going to like the house Tom is offering. It’s for a good price—did I tell you that part?”

  “Oh? I’m surprised he didn’t just trade it off for free medical for him and his sister for the rest of his life.”

  “I’m not willing to commit to that long. Life is full of unexpected events, and there may come a time when we need to leave this place.”

  Blaire snuggled closer. “Well, I just got here, and I see nothing in the foreseeable future that will drag me away from your town, Lyle Frazer.”

  The next morning, they did a thorough tour of the property and the house in question. Blair gasped when she saw the rose garden. “I’ve always wanted a flower garden of my own, and roses were a dream that my father tried to crush, albeit unsuccessfully.” She laughed. “It is his belief that nothing will grow in the God-forsaken northland.”

  “We have a decent growing spell in Spalding. We could dig up that grown over patch and plant some vegetables there. Old Tom gave that up a few years back.”

  Blaire looked at him and grinned. “I love this place; when can we purchase it?”

  Lyle laughed. “Needs a woman’s touch—you up for that and nursing besides?”

  “I am strong and mighty, sir, as you shall soon learn, and challenges only serve to set my pulse to racing.” She placed her hands on her hips and scanned the backside of the house. “I’m glad it’s not all prim and proper like the home I left in Kentucky. We can create this space so it is unique to our liking, and that is far more exciting than buying one that is haunted by someone else’s preferences.”

  Lyle slapped his hip, grinned, and said, “Hold that thought—I’ll be right back.” Within minutes he was back with a package, tied closed with a pretty ribbon. He passed it to her. “It’s a housewarming present. And now that I see how much you love flowers; I know it was the Good Lord that prompted my inspiration.”

  “Homemade gifts from the heart are the very best,” she said with the eagerness of a child as she ripped it open to find a perfectly crafted wooden rose, sitting on a leafy bed. The significance of it brought tears to her eyes. She lifted her eyes and gazed at the man who knew her heart before he’d even met her. “I love it, and I love you, Lyle Frazer.”

  She wound her arms around his neck and demonstrated her appreciation.

  He seemed satisfied with her response, for he grinned and said, “We will never get out of here, woman, if you don’t stop doing this.”

  “Ah, yes, the breakfast event,” Blaire said. “I am rather hungry.”

  “Good. Millie puts out tasty food, and it’s the unofficial meeting place for folks hereabouts. Are you ready to greet your neighbors? No doubt everyone who can possibly get to town today will be present. My taking a bride has been the main focus of gossip for the entire winter.”

  “You should have told me that,” Blaire said. “We could have had the wedding ceremony here.”

  “It would not have been very gentlemanly of me to escort an unmarried woman these many miles unchaperoned. No, you can be certain that no one expected me to dishonor you in any way.” He grinned. “That being said, they did hint that there would be a town-celebration of sorts to welcome you into our midst. I guess Millie’s Diner is it.”

  “All great events are built around food, didn’t you know that?” Blaire asked.

  “We think alike, Mrs. Frazer. I believe we are off to a splendid start.”

  “Well, I shall go and change into something more party-ish.” At the bottom of the stairs she called back, “If you need more money to buy the property, I’ve brought my life savings with me and would love to contribute to our future.”

  “I have enough. We shall tuck yours safely away in the bank for a rainy day. Thank you for the offer, but it is my pleasure to provide this new beginning for us.”

  Lyle was right about the party, and Blaire was glad she had changed into one of her best dresses. By ten o’clock in the morning, the townspeople were already in a festive mood, and they swept her into their fold without reserve, almost to the point of ignoring the good doctor.

  She laughed as she viewed him watching her from across the room. When their eyes met, they lingered, and the hub-bub around her drifted into the background. Lyle was the only one she saw, and she pondered how one could fall so completely in love in such a short period of time. He was her perfect match, and she would spend her entire life, giving thanks for this chance at happiness.

  Their lives
fell soon into a routine. They shared the kitchen and created many dishes together, some of them tasty, others fit only for the garbage. They planted a vegetable garden behind the house and were equally excited when the first buds popped their heads above the fertile ground. Blaire helped at the clinic in the mornings and occasionally traveled with Lyle on house calls. She had proven herself invaluable almost from the start, when she was able to show her husband a new procedure she’d witnessed at the hospital in Kentucky, which had saved Mrs. Jenkin’s life when her birthing had gone all wrong.

  The Frazer house had taken on the character of the new owners, and she loved the new home they had fixed up together almost as much as she loved her new life.

  That first day at Millie’s Diner, Blaire had met Marnie Hankerson, the other Pelican bride that had settled in Spalding, and the two women became immediate friends. Before long, it felt like Blaire had lived in Spalding her entire life.

  That’s why the shock was so great three months later, on the evening that was primed to be the best day of their marriage to date, when the surprise visitor arrived.

  Chapter 6

  Blaire eased the platter of steaming ham into the warming oven. Having accounted for every intimate detail, her heart joined the chorus of emotions amplifying within her, creating a symphony of unwritten love.

  “This must be the place where great music is born,” she voiced aloud, rearranging her centerpiece for the hundredth time, while drinking in the fragrance of the summer flowers she’d picked from her own garden.

  As if on cue, the latch of the front door clicked shut, and familiar footsteps padded up the hall. Her breath caught with anticipation; Lyle was home and life was perfect. She dared not turn to face him lest her eyes betray her secret prematurely. Instead, she concentrated on garnishing the pickle tray with the homemade preserves they’d mastered together. Her feet remained firmly planted, even when the familiar medicinal odor invaded her nostrils and especially when the good doctor wrapped his strong arms around her waist.

  Lyle whispered in her ear. “Did you ask the boss if you could leave work early, Mrs. Frazer?”

  “The boss was busy with Mrs. Busybody who experiences every known symptom in the book on a regular basis,” Blaire bantered, “so I snuck out to start supper.”

  “And it smells delicious,” Lyle said. “You are becoming quite an expert pioneer in the kitchen.”

  Blaire pivoted and snuggled closer. “Who knows? Someday, I might have to stay at home more and leave you to fend off your admirers at the infirmary.”

  Maybe in the very near future, she mused inwardly.

  “Never! I need you to keep my schedule straight. I don’t know what I did without you,” Lyle said emphatically, “but then again, it does smell good in here. I could get used to this homecoming every night.”

  “It’s a special occasion,” Blaire said as she wriggled free of his embrace. “And don’t ask me because I’m not telling you until the appointed moment.”

  “You’re joking, right? I’m lousy at the waiting game.”

  Instead of answering his question directly, Blaire changed the subject. “Why don’t you have a quick wash-up? Dinner will be served when you’re done.”

  “I suppose it will have to suffice. I know when I’m being put off,” Lyle said, drooping his lip.

  Blaire refused to nibble the dangling bait.

  A knock at the front door interrupted them, and Blaire groaned. “I hope you remembered to put the closed sign in the window at the office,” Blaire half-accused, “for I’m certainly not expecting company tonight…are you?”

  “Not me.” Lyle raised his arms as if in self-defense. “Never fear, my dear—anything short of death, and they’re gone. I promise.”

  “I’m holding you to your word, Lyle Frazer. This dinner was planned for two.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lyle saluted playfully. The corners of his mischievous smile crinkled, and the fine lines formed beside his eyes.

  “Be off with you.” Blaire snapped the tea towel in his direction and then turned back to the stove.

  The dinner was ready to serve, the atmosphere definitely on the intended track, and her exciting news was in a bubble ready to bust into their perfect evening. Could any woman be happier than she was at that very moment?

  When Lyle failed to return, Blaire decided that he must need her assistance to get rid of the caller, so she marched into the hallway, pure determination leading the way. “Who is it?” Blaire began, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Lyle standing in the ajar doorway. All of the blood appeared to have drained from his face. His fingertips turned white as they gripped the knob.

  Blaire’s heart leapt into her throat, and her quivering lips barely scratched out his name. Her legs moved like wooden sticks around her statue of a husband, bringing her face-to-face with the bewitching woman standing behind him. Her honey-golden curls were wound on top of her head, teasing tendrils escaping from under a stylish hat, while her slim body poured into an outfit that screamed money and prestige.

  The stranger gasped rather dramatically and raised a tiny hand to the bare flesh above her ample bosom. On her finger glittered a huge diamond that stole Blaire’s breath away. A single tear tracked from the visitor’s oval-shaped eye and through a thick layer of cream plastered on top of her face. It trickled down over her high cheekbone and stopped just short of her jawline. At the sight of Blaire, the tear droplet seemed to freeze instantly on the slippery ice patch of her impenetrable glare. The woman’s keen scrutiny left a noticeable chill in the otherwise warm August evening.

  Blaire attempted to rein in her increasing anger and put on a brave front, reaching deep inside for any fragment of hospitality she could muster. She thrust her hand forward, and pushed aside a strange premonition that threatened her stability. For the first time in their marriage, Blaire felt a twinge of betrayal at the thought that a pretty face could turn her loving husband into mush.

  “Excuse Lyle, he appears to have lost his voice. I’m Blaire Frazer—may I help you?”

  The woman lifted her chin ever so slightly and offered a condescending smile that managed to raise the hairs on the back of Blaire’s neck. She’d met her kind before.

  The woman ignored Blaire’s courteous, outstretched hand and flipped her attention to Lyle, who’d transformed into a pitiful ball of putty in one easy sweep. The intruder’s eyes rested once again on Blaire’s husband, and when she spoke, her voice sounded thick like crystalized honey. “You never told me you had a sister, darling.”

  Blaire emphasized the clearing of her throat and glared at Lyle. Sister! What was the matter with him? His mouth gaped open, and it would not have surprised Blaire to see drool dripping from it like a love-struck schoolboy. Well, she still remained in full possession of her senses, unlike the man beside her, but the woman needed the record set straight. Not for Blaire and Lyle’s sake alone, but for the sake of the wonderful news growing inside her.

  “That’s because Lyle has no sisters, but he does have a wife. Me.”

  Shock riveted through the woman’s eyes, and an embarrassed chuckle escaped from deep in her throat. “Lyle darling, you must help me here.”

  The mesmerized man was clearly rattled. He twisted his body agonizingly slow to face Blaire, but his weary eyes swept by her, unable to hold her gaze. They were the eyes of a haunted stranger.

  “Blaire,” Lyle’s voice cracked, “we need to talk.”

  “The only talking I want you to do right now, Mr. Frazer, is to this woman.” Blaire pointed to the lady at the door who appeared not in the least bit frazzled. “Set her straight, and let’s get on with our evening—remember?”

  “I remember.” He shifted his weight to the other foot and spoke to the woman at the door. “Where are you staying?”

  “In this god-forsaken middle of nowhere? The stagecoach driver informed me that the only spot is over the saloon, which is not at all satisfactory. I feared for my life when I mounted the steps
and felt the eye of every man at the bar on me.”

  “There is a boarding house, of sorts. Ms. Fletcher would take you in until the next stage arrives tomorrow to bring you back to wherever you came from,” Blaire blurted, unable to help herself.

  “Never have I been so humiliated.” The woman wailed. “Lyle Frazer, are you going to let her talk to me in that tone of voice?”

  “Please, Blaire, let me handle this.”

  She backed off when viewing the sheer panic in his face.

  The woman continued ranting. “I suppose a boarding house would beat staying at the saloon, but you know how I deplore shabbiness. Does this Fletcher lady keep a clean house?”

  The surprise visitor scanned the Frazer home—what little of it she could see—casting a purposeful, condescending look at Lyle, puckering up her nose, and sizing up Blaire like a cheap piece of goods. “Really, Lyle, I’m sure you could have done much better for yourself.”

  “That’s quite enough,” Lyle said abruptly. He straightened to his full six-foot height, and his chin rose in that proud stance Blaire had only witnessed when he was defending the woman he loved. She took some consolation in that. “I’ll meet you at Millie’s Diner in one hour. You can stay wherever you want. It’s nothing to me.”

  “Humph,” the woman answered. “Well, thank goodness for the food—I’m starving.”

  Lyle shut the door in her face, quietly, but firmly, her last remark still echoing in the house.

  Blaire glared at him with an expression she felt certain she had yet to use in their short marriage. Her lips pressed into thin scarlet lines, and she planted tightly rounded fists on her hips. Anger seemed an easy substitute for the fear pulsating through her.

  “The diner? Did I hear you right? You are meeting that woman for dinner, while mine shrivels up in the oven?”

  Lyle appeared to have found his feet, and he approached Blaire timidly. “Blaire,” he said, “we need to talk.”