They chatted on their way there and it was quite pleasant. Clementine said nothing to Alexander about Mr. Brewer’s visit or about his deadline-threat.
Alexander knew she was a widower, whose husband was difficult while alive, and even more so since he died as it turned out. She never went into details and wasn’t planning to.
The past is the past. She reminded herself. Sadly, at the moment it didn’t look as though she was going to have a future either. If she did not successfully pay Mr. Brewer everything back Steve owed him, that was.
Regardless, she would do her best and pray for the miracle. Not wanting to dwell on all her worries at the moment, Clementine decided to simply enjoy the present with Alexander.
Inadvertently, she came to a realization, she was already far too attached to Alexander and she could sense he was feeling the same way. At the moment she could not decide if that was a good or a bad thing.
“What are we having for dessert?” Alexander asked her, leaning across the table toward her as though sharing some big conspiracy with her. She liked when he was playful.
They shared a rather large meal that was simply divine. Clementine was ready to believe in everything she heard about Grand Hotel’s special chef. No offense to Martha, but this meal was one of the best she had in her entire life.
As for dessert, she had a sweet tooth and could always have some piece of a pie, or candies after her main meal. Clementine laughed. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” she explained.
He smiled as well. “I do appreciate how we think alike,” he winked. “Let me just see what is on today’s menu.”
Since not many guests stayed after the big fair, Clementine and Alexander had the dining room all to themselves. Even their waiter was nowhere to be seen, not that they minded.
It felt awkward having him staring at them while eating the whole time. Alexander dashed to the kitchen. Clementine occupied herself by admiring the decorations as he was away. He returned rather quickly.
“Well?” she prompted, feeling a bit impatient and the way he looked at her it was apparent he approved.
“The cook said we have two choices,” he replied vaguely.
“And these are?”
“We could either have a fruit pie or,” he made a dramatic pause. “A fruit pie.”
Clementine tried really hard not to laugh as she pretended to ponder about their choices. “It is a tough decision.”
Alexander sighed. “I know,” he said in mock sympathy.
“I think I will have to go with fruit pie,” Clementine declared straight-faced. She was rather pleased with herself she managed to do that.
“Excellent choice,” Alexander played along. “I already took the liberty of ordered two slices.”
Clementine saluted him with her drink. “Smart man. I do not feel like sharing my pie with you,” she only half teased.
He put a hand on his chest. “Why, I am flabbergasted. I will remember this,” he replied.
They laughed some more as their waiter appeared seemingly out of nowhere bringing their desserts with him.
The pie was divine, the crust was crispy just the way Clementine liked it, and the stuffing sweet. She wondered if she could get the recipe from the cook. Probably not.
While they ate Clementine noticed Alexander rubbing his right hand ever once in a while, as though it was troubling him. “Does it hurt?” She asked in concern.
“Not much. I think the weather is changing. It aches when it’s about to rain,” he frowned as though he couldn’t believe he shared all that with her.
“How quaint, you have your own weather-predicting device,” she said in hopes to lighten the mood again, and it worked. He laughed.
“Finding fresh water would be even better,” he joked.
“Do you mind if I ask how you got that scar?” Clementine asked, realizing she was perhaps stepping over the line. The question was rather personal, and it was apparent by his previous reaction that it bothered him.
He leaned in his seat. “I was hunting one of the men who murdered my sister.”
Clementine tried not to react to this big revelation, simply placed a hand over his own, expressing her condolences and sorrow.
Alexander cleared his throat before continuing. “He was the leader of this notorious gang and probably the most dangerous man I’ve ever encountered. We fought, we drew guns and fired at one another a few times. In the end, our pistols went off at the same time.”
Without realizing what she was doing Clementine leaned forward, grabbing his hand even harder.
“I had no other choice but to kill him. It was my bullet that killed him, and he hit my revolver with his, which then exploded in my hand.”
What a heartbreaking story. She felt sorry he lost his sister. No wonder he was so closed off, he was probably overcome with guilt and grief, she realized in an instance.
“Good,” she said once he finished.
“Excuse me?”
“It is good that you killed him.”
His smile returned, all though it was marred with sadness. “My notion exactly. And this right here,” he waved with his right arm. “Is the daily reminder that in the end I killed the good-for-nothing and survived to tell the tale.”
“Tell me about her. Your sister.”
There was such a long pause Clementine started to wonder if she said that out loud. But then he took her by surprise when he spoke again. “Her name was Honey, and she was everything to me...”
Alexander could not believe he told Clementine about his sister. It was hard, it tore him to pieces inside while the words were pouring out of his mouth and at the same time it was rather cathartic, and at the end, it stitched him back together.
He mostly talked about their childhood, how he looked after her, fed her, bathed her, taught her how to walk, taught her how to ride a horse. They lived with their ailed grandmother since nobody knew where their parents were, so Alexander mostly took care of his baby sister.
He didn’t say much about her murder, or the fact it was all his fault. That was still too hard to say out loud. Besides, he was afraid Clementine would start looking at him differently. And he couldn’t bear that.
Truth be told, he was rather in love with her and hoped she felt the same way. It all happened so quickly, and without his realizing it. There was no going back though.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Clementine said, squeezing his hand one last time. Somewhere along the line, he realized that touch was the reason he was able to say all that. It grounded him, gave him comfort, strength, and knowledge he was not alone.
All though, by now, he should not be surprised by anything that happened to him while he was around Clementine. From the start she made him act differently. He dealt with Herbert, bought a new shirt just in hopes he would see her at the fair, made friends with her friends and so on.
“Would you care to dance?” he blurted out, needing something else to do and to think about.
Clementine chuckled in surprise. “Here? Now?”
“Yes,” he replied simply.
“There is no music.”
“We will make our own,” he reassured her.
“I would like that,” she replied, and the way she looked at him made his heart beat just a little bit faster.
He stood up and ceremoniously offered her his hands. She took it, standing up herself.
They did not move from that spot since between tables was the only place they could do this. And it had to be a limited affair, yet Alexander did not care. He was happy simply holding her in his arms.
“What now?” She was wide-eyed.
He pretended to think before he started to hum and move them in the correct rhythm. Alexander realized he could stay in this moment forever.
“You have a lovely voice,” she complimented once the song finished.
“I do believe you are the only one who thinks that,” he joked to mask his other feelings. Even though he did not want to,
he let her go.
They returned to their sear and talked a bit more, before departing. Alexander walked Clementine home.
“Thank you for today, I had a lovely time.
Alexander was pleased. “It was my pleasure,” he replied while wrecking his brain for an activity they could do together next. He never courted a woman before and was seriously lacking.
Once they reached Clementine’s home, they spotted Mrs. Viola Langley with a little girl, presumably her daughter.
“Viola,” Clementine greeted, clearly astounded to see her friend waiting for her. “What a nice surprise.”
Mrs. Viola’s face was grave, and Alexander sensed something was wrong. He was proven right when she said. “Clementine, we have a problem.”
Chapter Eleven
Hearing those words coming from Viola’s mouth put Clementine on high alert. “Viola, what’s wrong?” She demanded, approaching her friend. She could see that Pauline was upset as well. Her mind tried to come up with a possible reason. Did Viola’s husband decide to come back? Did she got fired? Did their house burn down? The possibilities were endless.
“I need your help,” Viola started than stopped eyeing Alexander as though she did not want to say anything further in front of him. The subject was too personal.
He realized that as well at the same time. “If there is nothing I can do to help, I’ll bid you farewell,” he said.
“Thank you,” Viola replied with gratitude, clearly touched by his offer. “But I really need to speak with Clementine.”
“Say no more,” he took no offense.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Clementine told him. “And thank you once again for this lovely time,” before refocusing on her friend.
Once they all said their goodbyes Alexander left and Clementine was on pins and needles to learn was upset Viola so deeply.
“Let’s go inside,” she ushered her friend and niece inside.
Viola and Pauline settled on the living room couch. Clementine wanted to remain on her feet, knowing she thought better if in motion. Not wanting to make the pair uneasy, she sat down as well, next to Viola.
“Will you tell me now what’s the matter?” Clementine prompted when Viola said nothing. As time passed and Clementine did not know what was going on, her imagination kept running wild. Viola was usually the chatty one so that told Clementine plenty about her friend’s mental state.
Viola took a deep, shuddering breath. “My Pa is terribly ill, Clementine,” Viola cried out. Pauline was on the brink of tears as well.
Clementine knew her father-in-law had health problems in the past. It appeared that this time it got even worse, which was a shame. Clementine really liked Pa Shamus.
“I am terribly sorry to hear that.” Clementine wrote to him from time to time and was always pleased when she got some words in return. He omitted his obvious health problems in his last letter and Clementine knew why. He did not want to burden her. That was Pa Shamus, always looking after others. He and Viola were very close, so her reaction to this news was understandable.
“What did his doctor say?”
“He is doing everything in his power, yet he advised I go there immediately.”
That did not sound good. “Of course, you must go. Tell me what I can do. Would you like for me to go as well?” Clementine offered.
Viola shook her head. “I need you to take care of Pauline while I’m away.”
“Mamma, I want to go with you,” Pauline complained while sniffling. Clementine did not like seeing her so affected by this. Little girls were obliged to smile and play all day, and that was it. There would be plenty of problems waiting for her once she grew up, no need to rush things.
“Shush,” Viola replied, taking her in the lap. “I told you that you must stay here with your Auntie Clementine.” Then she turned toward Clementine, looking at her pleadingly. “Will you take care of her? The journey is too long and I cannot look after Pauline and Pa together.”
“Of course, she can stay with me,” Clementine was quick to reassure her. “No need to explain. I am here for you. For both of you.”
Clementine opened her arms wide and the little girl willingly came to sit in her lap. Clementine embraced her. “We will have so much fun together, sugarplum,” she tried to lift her spirits. “We will even make your favorite sweets.”
“Angel cake?”
“Yes.”
Pauline nodded to that, halfheartedly. “I’d like that,” she replied politely. She was such a sweet girl, yet she’d already gone through so much heartache; it truly broke Clementine’s heart.
“Thank you, Clementine,” Viola said, visibly relieved. Silly woman, as though Clementine would ever say no to her.
“I’m leaving first thing in the morning, bought my train ticket and everything.”
“What about your job?” Clementine had to ask.
“Martha said my job would be waiting for me when I get back.”
“Good,” Clementine replied, glad Viola had one less worry in her life. This way she could solely concentrate on taking care of her father.
“You are both welcome to stay here tonight,” she offered.
Viola put her arms around Clementine and Pauline alike. “I will send words when I arrive at my Pa’s house.”
Clementine knew that could take a while since he lived on a remote farm, across the state.
“I will miss you, mamma,” Pauline chirped.
“I will miss you too,” she kissed her plump cheek before returning to her conversation with Clementine.
“I cannot even begin to contemplate how long would I be staying there,” she admitted, rubbing her forehead.
“Do not worry about that now,” Clementine said in her most soothing voice. “Simply go and take care of your father. Pauline and I will be just fine.”
Viola took a deep breath, then another. “You are an angel.”
Clementine did not know how to reply to that. Viola and Pauline were her family and she would do anything for them and was certain Viola would return the favor in kind.
Then something occurred to her. Her life was rather complicated at the moment with Mr. Brewer’s threats hanging over her head. Not to mention that Clementine worked in an alcohol store that was frequented by some rather scary men. That was no place for little girls. Sometimes, that was no place for Clementine either.
Reluctantly seeing no other way, Clementine voiced her concerns. “I still have to go to work.” She needed money now more than ever.
Viola made a face of disdain. “I agree. The store is no place for children, yet we do not have a choice,” she said with confidence, convincing Clementine as well that they were doing their best in a terrible situation.
“Besides, Pauline promised she would be a good girl and not trouble you while working.”
“I will bring Jane with me,” Pauline confirmed her mother’s words. “She will keep me company,” she added, presenting Clementine with her doll.
“Excellent,” Clementine accepted with enthusiasm that was a bit exaggerated. “Then the three of us will go to work tomorrow and have a marvelous time.” Or so she hoped. Clementine knew Garry would not mind. It was a different matter of how the other patrons would react to Pauline’s presence.
They talked for a little bit longer after settling all that, even though it was apparent their hearts were not in it, so they retired for the night. They all slept together in Clementine’s bed. Pauline was the first that fell asleep, securely nestled between the two women.
Viola petted her on the hair while looking at Clementine; she was pondering about something, and Clementine had a pretty good idea what it might be.
“Will you now tell me what is going on between Mr. Carson and yourself?” Viola pressed in a hushed voice.
Clementine groaned inwardly, not wanting to have this conversation now. Despite everything, once again Viola proved she was an excellent multitasker.
“There is nothing to say,” she whispered b
ack. “We are just friends.” Clementine was not trying to be vague, intentionally, even though it sounded like that.
“Then why were you all dressed up today?” Viola challenged.
A Courageous Bride to Bring Him Hope: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 11