Substitute Montana Bride: Bear Grass Springs, Book Thirteen

by Flightner, Ramona

  When the door burst open to a curious Jessamine MacKinnon, the town reporter, he gave a guff of frustration. “I wanted your sister-in-law.”

  “She’s busy in the kitchen. As you know, I’m useless in the kitchen, unless it’s to test a recipe.” Her astute gaze took in him, holding a shaking Vera. “Is she ill?” When she met his terrified gaze, she paled. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I sat down, and she was like a block of ice, and then suddenly it’s like she’s on fire.”

  Jessamine spun. “I’ll get Helen. She’s in the kitchen having a cup of tea.”

  He heard her footsteps clattering down the stairs, and Tobias gave a sudden thanks for his large interfering family. After so many years alone, he couldn’t imagine his isolated existence any longer. He hoped never to live it again.

  * * *

  After Helen and the doctor had examined Alvira and had determined they could do little for her, except give her time to heal, Tobias was back in her bed, cradling her against his chest. Annabelle would bring willow bark tea, sweetened with honey, at regular intervals to help combat the fever, and he knew there had been a long discussion about an ice bath. However, for now, Vera was in his arms.

  “Come, love,” he whispered. “You can fight this and come back to us. Come back to me. We’ll have a wonderful life. You’ll teach, and I’ll run the store, and every evening will be ours. Soon we’ll have a grandchild. Jane’s having a baby. Isn’t that the most wondrous news?”

  He pressed his head in the curve where her shoulder met her neck and fought a sob. “Fight, Vera. Don’t leave me alone again. Not when I’ve begun to dream about what we could have.”

  He continued his vigil with her, sleeping in fits and starts, but always attuned to her.

  Sunday evening, she continued with the fever, although it wasn’t as severe. She appeared to be improving, although she hadn’t woken.

  Cailean poked in his head. “Tobias.” He paused, clearing his throat, as his gaze was filled with regret. “You have to leave. We covered for you last night, saying many didn’t go home from such a large party, with so much freely flowin’ whiskey. We celebrated Slims’s impending fatherhood, while Ewan and Alistair slept on the floor downstairs to give credence to it, although they bellyached enough today about it. Anna fed them a hearty breakfast to get them to shut up about it.” He grinned at Tobias before sobering. “You have no reason to still be here. The townsfolk will start talking.”

  Tobias stared at Cailean. “I know she’s getting better. I want to be here when she wakes. I …”

  Cailean gripped his shoulder and nodded. “I ken, man. I know what it is to not want to leave my beloved’s side.” He sighed. “Don’t steal her choice from her. Don’t live with doubt, man.”

  Tobias’s gaze jerked up to meet Cailean’s. “I don’t understand.”

  “Think, man. Have her choose you because she wants you. Not because she feels pressured or shamed into choosing you.” Cailean flushed. “I know many of us in my family have had just such starts to our marriages, and we’ve all been extremely happy. I suspect you’d do better without the doubts.”

  Tobias took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re quite perceptive, Cailean.” He kissed Vera on her head, whispered a few sweet words, and eased from her bed. “I must look a mess.”

  “Brush your hair, put on your waistcoat and jacket, and few will think anything’s amiss when you have your winter coat on. Annabelle has a basketful of food ready for you, so you won’t be hungry tonight. She’ll spread it around town via the bakery tomorrow that we’re expecting you for dinner tomorrow night. Skye is very fond of her uncle Tobias.”

  Tobias’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “Thank you, Cailean.” He gripped the younger man’s arm. “I … I’m unaccustomed to such kindness.”

  “You’re family, Tobias. Never fear. We’ll care for Miss Damon.”

  “Thank you,” Tobias murmured, looking at Alvira for a long moment, before slipping from the room.

  * * *

  Alvira woke in the middle of the night, achy, sore, and overwhelmingly tired. She was thirsty, but didn’t have the energy to walk to her kitchen for a glass of water.

  “Water?” asked a woman in a soft voice.

  Alvira gasped and tugged the blankets up to her nose, as she gazed at the person sitting in a chair. “Mrs. MacKinnon?”

  “Annabelle,” she murmured. “Aye, I’m married to Cailean, but three Mrs. MacKinnons are in town. It becomes a bit confusing.” She rose, handing the glass of water to Alvira. She murmured, “Sit up,” before handing the water to her.

  After confirming her patient could hold her own water glass and watching Alvira take a few sips, Annabelle placed the back of her palm to Alvira’s forehead and gave a satisfied nod. “Your fever has broken. How do you feel?”

  “Tired. Thirsty.” She flushed. “Ravenous.”

  Annabelle laughed. “I can imagine. You’ve gone days without food. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

  Alvira set the cup of water on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. She breathed deeply, chastising herself for the hint of sandalwood and the smell of musky man that teased her senses. No man would have been in her bed, holding her close as she had dreamed. No man would have whispered sweet words that filled her dreams with visions of what she most desired.

  No matter how hard she tried, she could not rid herself of these schoolgirl fantasies. A tear trickled down her cheek that, at forty-five, she still clung to the naive hope that she would find love. That a worthy man would love her.

  By the time Annabelle had returned, Alvira had swiped her cheeks clean and had resumed a placid countenance, her feelings locked away inside. Sitting up again, she devoured the buttered bread and drank heartily of the sweetened tea. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your sleep. I hate to be a burden.”

  “You’re no burden,” Annabelle said, her light-brown eyes lit with compassion.

  “I shall return home tomorrow, although I fear school may be closed for a few days, as I regain my strength.”

  Annabelle leaned forward, clasping one of Alvira’s hands. “It’s all right to need others in your life. To desire friendship and family and a sense of belonging. You may stay here as long as you want.”

  Alvira nodded. “I thank you for your kind offer, but I should feel most comfortable at home.”

  “Don’t lock away who you truly are, Alvira, or he’ll never find you,” Annabelle warned. “Don’t hide behind ‘shoulds’ and ‘musts’ and what you perceive as your duty. Dare to live beyond those confining words and to live a full life.”

  “I doubt he even cared that I took a chill and became ill,” Alvira said, her gaze downcast and jaw clamped shut in mutinous anger, as she flicked at a crumb on her sheets.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong. But that’s for you to discover,” Annabelle murmured, as she rose. “I hope I do not err when I say this.” She waited until Alvira raised her gaze to meet hers. “I know what heartache is. I know what it is to face my greatest fears and to trust he who had betrayed me. To allow myself to love him again.” Her eyes shone with deep emotions.

  Annabelle continued. “You have to be a courageous woman to travel to this tiny town in the wilds of Montana with no family. With no one concerned for your well-being. Don’t lose that courage now. Dare to believe in what you know to be true. Not in the lies spouted by those who thrive on misery and discord. Dare to believe you deserve to be happy. To be loved.” Annabelle turned for the door, her fingers on the handle.

  “He was here, wasn’t he?” Alvira whispered. “I can smell him on the sheets.”

  Facing her, Annabelle nodded. “Yes. He held you and talked with you and spoke his deepest dreams to you, as you fought your fever. He never gave up on you.”

  A tear streaked down Alvira’s cheek. “Why isn’t he here now?”

  “One night in your bed, after a huge MacKinnon gathering—where the whiskey flowed and numerous b
rothers didn’t return to their beds, due to their drunken states—was an acceptable ruse for the town. Two nights in your bed and you’d have had no options. He refused to take away your ability to decide what you want, while you were ailing.”

  Alvira sat in stunned silence. “The brothers weren’t really drunk, were they?”

  Annabelle grinned. “No, they spent the entire evening telling tall tales from their youth in Scotland. It was quite entertaining and would be enough to fill Jessamine’s paper for years to come.” Her smiled softened. “Good night, Alvira. Call out if you need anything.”

  Alvira settled into bed, her mind racing at all she had learned. A nascent hope took root, and she found that more terrifying that anything she had felt since her family had died twenty-seven years ago.

  Chapter 10

  Tobias glanced up from reading the latest edition of the newspaper, relieved to see no mention of Alvira’s mishap, and glowered at the woman who had the audacity to enter his store. “Mrs. Jameson.” His eyes glowed with animosity, as he stood tall and wholly focused on her.

  Mrs. Jameson walked toward him, a calculating gleam in her eye. “I heard about poor Miss Damon being rendered mad, due to her association with you.”

  Tobias squinted and tilted his head to the side, as he studied the woman he had been fool enough to have a short liaison with years ago. Again he asked himself how he could ever have considered her a balm to his loneliness. “Not for the first time, Mrs. Jameson, you’re misinformed.”

  She chuckled, sending the hair on his arms on edge, as she came to a stop in front of him, the display case separating them. “Oh, I know I’m not. I know the MacKinnons well enough to know when they are hoodwinking the townsfolk. I know you spent the night there with her.”

  Tobias stared at her with a blank face, giving nothing away. “You’ve been a miserable woman since the moment I met you, and I will always regret every second I spent in your company.” He paused as he saw a flicker of pain in her eyes at the comment. However, he would do nothing to soften his words or the sentiment behind them. “You’re a miserable woman, who wishes everyone were as miserable as you. Your bitterness has only grown as my happiness has, resentful that I’m not as wretched as you are.”

  “I had my happiness stolen from me!” she cried out, holding a hand to her chest. “They killed him!”

  Shaking his head, Tobias’s gaze gleamed with anger and pity. “A mother has the right to mourn her son, but you shouldn’t expect anyone else to mourn Walter. Not after what he did.” He paused. “You’re angry at the world, Margaret.” His soft tone caused her to gasp in surprise. “However, if I ever hear of you speaking to Miss Damon again, there will be hell to pay.”

  Mrs. Tompkins recovered, her smile now filled with devious joy. “Oh, she was upset to learn you’re not the upstanding man who she imagined?” Her voice, filled with mocking insincerity, caused him to bristle. “How dreadful for her to learn that you’ve always been a scoundrel.”

  Tobias shook his head. “On the contrary. She learned nothing from you.” He smiled. “Your attempt at mischief failed.”

  She furrowed her brows and placed a hand on her hip. “I’m certain that’s not true!” she sputtered. “How could she continue to have faith in anything you have to say? How could any woman, after they know the truth about you?”

  Tobias clamped his jaw so hard it ticked, but he refused to show any other emotion to her. “Is there anything you desire to purchase, ma’am?” When she flushed—because they both knew she didn’t have the means to buy anything in his store—he raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t, then I wish you a good day and ask you to leave my store.”

  She spun on her heel, marching from the store, her head held high.

  Tobias watched her walk away through the polished windows, not relaxing until she had been out of sight for a good five minutes. Then he collapsed onto the stool behind the display case, his hands shaking. He wished what he had proclaimed to Mrs. Jameson were true. That Alvira hadn’t believed that horrid woman’s lies. That Alvira still had faith in him and yearned to see him.

  He prayed when he visited Cailean’s this evening that Alvira wouldn’t turn him away. He didn’t know what he would do if he were denied seeing her.

  * * *

  Cailean saw Tobias approaching, as he left the livery. “Tobias!” he called out. “Come in the kitchen door. It’s the one generally used by family.” He slapped Tobias on the shoulder and gave it a squeeze, as he murmured in a low voice that wouldn’t be heard by any of the townsfolk who may be watching their interaction with avid interest. “She’s awake and recovering.”

  Cailean kept a firm grip on Tobias’s shoulder to prevent him from racing ahead and up the stairs into the house. “No need to give them any other reason to gossip. There’s enough curiosity about why Miss Damon was out wandering a few days ago.”

  Tobias flushed and nodded, falling into step beside Cailean and then following him inside. He watched as Cailean lifted Skye high over his head, before settling her on his hip, and then leaned in to kiss Annabelle on her cheek. These glimpses of what Tobias could have had, had he not been such a fool, taunted him and tormented him.

  “Miss Damon?” he asked Annabelle, as he took off his coat and hat, hanging them by pegs near the stove.

  Annabelle gave him an assessing look, although he sensed no criticism or hesitation on her part in him seeing Alvira. “She’s resting upstairs. I fear she may be … confused.”

  Tobias smiled ruefully at her choice of words, nodding at the astute woman who had taken in his Jane and had offered her refuge when he had not. “Thank you for caring for her.” He paused. “For Alvira and for Jane. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

  Smiling, Annabelle shrugged. “I believe that, by now, you’ve learned this is how I am. I’m only thankful you’re no longer the bitter, cantankerous man who relished in the late delivery of my spices.”

  Tobias sputtered out a laugh. “Heavens no. I’ve come to enjoy your sweets as much as anyone else in town.” He sobered. “I’ve come to understand all you do, subtly and with no need for recognition, for so many of us. Thank you.”

  Annabelle’s eyes shone, as she fought tears at the unexpected testimonial.

  Clearing his throat, Tobias nodded and moved from the room, taking the steps two at a time. When he approached Alvira’s door, he paused, taking a deep breath. Knocking softly, he waited for her to answer.

  “Yes?”

  Poking his head in, he saw a flash of relief in her gaze, before she schooled her expression into one of indifference. “Alvira, I thought you might like a visitor.”

  Sitting in the bed with the blankets folded around her waist, she rested in a flannel nightgown that did little to enhance her natural curves. “You may sit in the chair.” She pointed to the one in the far corner.

  Chuckling, Tobias shook his head. “No, sweetheart, please let me sit closer to you.” He nodded to the chair near her bed.

  “As long as you don’t join me in bed.”

  He stilled, his gaze rising to meet hers. He flushed, clearing his throat. “I would if you wanted me to. I’ve rarely felt greater pleasure than holding you in my arms.”

  Her blue eyes flashed. “Said like the reprobate you are.” She tugged at the blankets, yanking at them until they were below her chin.

  With a sigh, he plopped onto the chair by her but did not lean toward her or attempt to hold her hand. “Who filled your head with lies, Vera?” he asked, his voice weary. When she remained silent, he stared at her for a long quiet moment. “Why would you believe Mrs. Jameson instead of talking with me?”

  “Do you deny you ran off with your cousin’s wife?” At his shake of his head, her eyes glowed with distress. “Do you deny that you shamed your daughter when she arrived in town, telling her over and over again that she belonged in the brothel?” Again he shook his head. She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself for what she would hear. “Do you deny you had
a … liaison with that woman?”

  Tobias sighed and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. “Alvira, none of what you ask is false. I have no excuse.” He stared at her, a desperate sadness clinging to him, as though he understood he’d already been judged and condemned. “I had hoped you’d want to know who I am now, Vera.”

  “Do you regret anything?”

  Tobias tilted his head to the side and shook his head subtly, as his eyes glinted with disappointment. “Have you learned nothing about me? Have you spent no time with Jane? Or with the MacKinnons?” He watched as she flushed and ducked her head. “Do you cling to your righteous anger so you don’t have to risk caring for a man who’s less than perfect?”

  “None of us are perfect,” she whispered, a tear coursing down her cheek.

  He rose and paced behind his chair. After a few passes, he paused and gripped the back of the chair. “Do you want me to go? Do you want nothing to do with me?” He waited for her to speak.

  She took a deep stuttering breath, her hands pleating the blanket. At this point, she had relaxed her hold on it, and it was nearly to her waist again. She swallowed and bit her lip, before letting out another deep breath. “I need to understand, Tobias.” Her voice quivered at her deeply suppressed emotions.

  His hands gripping the chair turned white, as he stared at the floor. “What, Alvira? What do you need to understand?” He looked up at her, his gaze fiery with a desperation to be understood and to not be found wanting. “That I was a fool? That I made the gravest mistake and lost everything? That I lived with regret as my only companion for nearly two decades? That I clung to bitterness so I wouldn’t feel so desperately alone?”

  He shook the chair and then released it, as his cheeks flushed and his breath emerged in pants. “Do you want to hear about the woman I loved and lost? Do you care about the agony I feel when I realize all the time I forfeited with my daughter? Or the relief and gratitude I feel that she forgave me and that I am to know my grandchild?”