“And my love for you is also greater than any other, my beautiful, sweet Lily.” His beaming face faded as he pulled her close for a long, sweet kiss. When that one ended, she took another, longer than the first. After the third kiss, a slurred voice from the other room called out. “So’d you two make up?”
Lily jumped from her husband’s lap and twirled around to see her brother watching with a lopsided grin on his face. “Hey, I wanna be an uncle!”
Elliott’s laughter rang out, and twin fires burned in Lily’s cheeks as her hand touched her middle in a familiar gesture. “Maybe someday you will be, big brother.”
A hand closed around hers as her husband tugged her around. “Lily?”
She smiled. “I’m not sure, but yes, I think so.”
“Hallelujah!” Elliott jumped up and grabbed her in a hug that lifted her off her feet. “Thank you! Thank you!”
His lips closed over hers, making her heart soar even above JD’s laughter.
A Sneak Peek at Housekeeper Bride
Coming Next by Mildred Colvin
Chapter 1
Spring of 1894, Sweet Water, Kansas
Maggie Thompson disembarked from the stagecoach and looked around the tiny town of Sweet Water, sitting on the Kansas prairie several miles west of the Missouri line. She straightened her tired, drooping shoulders and stepped out of the way as the other passenger stepped down.
“Are you expecting someone to meet you?” He’d tried striking up a conversation with her several times as they traveled south from Topeka’s train station. She hadn’t been interested then, and wasn’t now.
She stepped to the side. “Yes, I am. If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to my luggage.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried to the back of the coach and found the driver.
By the time she had her luggage, comprising two small trunks, stored at the station, the other passenger had disappeared. Thankful he wouldn’t be bothering her again, she looked around the town, uncertain what to do. Her life had taken a strange turn a few weeks ago when she received a summons to lunch with Sarah Parker. She and Sarah attended the same church in New York, although they had never been close friends. Mere acquaintances would be a more accurate description of their relationship. But the offer of food when scrimping had become her normal lifestyle since her husband’s death, so she accepted the invitation and wondered at Sarah’s intent. As a result, she now stood on a practically deserted boardwalk out of the way as the driver and his guard prepared to take a new passenger on down the line. Mrs. Langdon should be here to welcome her, but she saw no one who looked like the older woman she remembered.
While she tried to decide what to do, she watched a woman enter the mercantile next door while another came out and walked away. A burst of wind ruffled her skirt and stirred a few strands of hair that had come loose from her bun. The creak and rattle of a wagon passing caught her attention as a stray dog barked and ran after it. There was something quaint about this town. Perhaps it was the relaxed attitude in the few people as they strolled about. She’d lived in many places, but always within the city, yet if she could live someplace else, this looked like it would be a good place.
Drawn to the mercantile, she stepped forward and soon pushed the door open, setting off a bell to announce her arrival. There were only a few customers, and they quietly browsed, glancing up to look her over before going back to selecting their purchases. Probably watching her from under lowered eyelashes. She ignored them and walked to the back where the clerk stood behind a tall counter.
“May I help you, Miss?”
She glanced into gray eyes beneath shaggy, gray brows. Curiosity brightening his eyes. “Yes, I wondered if you might tell me where I could find Mrs. James Lewis?”
“She said a young woman might come in here looking for her. Thought you might be the one.” His smile welcomed her. “Said she feared she’d miss the stage, and to ask you to wait here for her. There’s a bench near the front where you’re welcome to sit, or look around if you’d rather.”
What else could she do after coming from so far? She was tired enough to sit, but she imagined she still felt every bump and sway from riding the stage and meandered through the store until she reached the fabric table. There she kept glancing toward the door while admiring the cloth and dreaming of the dresses she could make if she had any money. Maybe with this job and a place to stay, she could save enough to buy a few yards. No, she still couldn’t afford anything for herself, because she’d come for one purpose, and would do everything she could to fulfill it.
She’d gone through almost every bolt of fabric before a woman who looked familiar came through the door. She ushered two small girls in before her to the bench set under the windows. They must be her grandchildren.
As the woman busied settling them down, memories of their linked past rushed through her mind. Attending the same church, she and her husband visiting with Mama and her father, the day Mr. Lewis come looking for her father and she’d been afraid to tell him the truth. How she regretted her fear that cost a man his life. She would never forgive herself for that transgression. But she was here now to do what she could to pay back a small portion of what the Lewis family had lost from her father’s evil greed.
She stepped forward as Mrs. Lewis turned. “Hello. I’m Margaret Thompson. It’s good to see you, Mrs. Lewis. I believe you are expecting me?”
A smile broke out over the older woman’s face. “Maggie, I’m sorry to be late, but more glad to see you than you know. I hope your trip was uneventful.”
This was a welcome she hadn’t expected and didn’t deserve. Forcing a smile to her face, she took the soft hand offered. “Yes, tiring, but uneventful. I’m thankful for that. I’ve heard of train and stagecoach robberies, and prayed I wouldn’t be involved in either. The Lord is good.”
“Yes, He certainly is.” A light sparkled in the depth of Mrs. Lewis’s eyes, and Maggie wondered, but was glad to see it. She’d envisioned her as a bitter, hateful woman, not vibrant and cheerful. Certainly not welcoming the daughter of the man who caused her husband’s death. She felt her body relax as a tug on her sleeve brought her attention to the smallest girl.
Large, dark brown eyes looked up into hers. “Are you going to be my new mommy?”
Maggie sucked in air, almost choking, then croaked out one word. “No!”
She turned to the twinkle in Mrs. Lewis’s eyes. The older woman put a hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Let’s not rush things, Clara. Sit down so we can talk.”
Her smile included Maggie, and feeling the need to collapse, Maggie sat as far from the children as she could get.
As Mrs. Lewis explained her job, she tried to listen. “You will do light housekeeping, prepare meals, occasionally watch the girls. That’s about it. Are you still interested in the position?”
She felt as if she’d stepped into a strangely different world where nothing made sense. Sort of like the children’s book Alice in Wonderland. What did Mrs. Lewis mean about not rushing things? Why hadn’t she told the little girl that, of course, she wasn’t there to become her mother. She looked into the kind eyes, waiting for her answer. “I’m not sure I understand. Do your grandchildren not have a mother?”
The older woman’s smile slipped as she glanced quickly toward the children. When she turned back, her expression had softened. “I’m afraid their mother took sick and passed on. I came to live with them and to help where I could. That was two years ago, and I feel its time to step down and let someone younger take care of things. We aren’t a fussy bunch. I believe you’ll find us all very easy to get along with.”
The mother had died? And the children thought she’d come to take her place? As a housekeeper, she supposed she had, in a sense. But not as their father’s wife! She shuddered to think of ever marrying again, no matter how nice the man was. She’d thought her husband was nice, too, with his cheerful personality, joking and teasing her. He’d been loving and kind to her, and then she’
d found out what he did for a living. While she thought he worked in an office downtown, he spent most of his time with her father, plotting and planning so they could fleece the unsuspecting victims they handpicked for their dastardly deeds. Such as Mrs. Lewis’s husband.
She spoke. “Yes, of course. I’m still interested. I hope you haven’t changed your mind.”
The twinkle returned to the older woman’s eyes. “Oh, I haven’t, but I’m not the one who will make the final decision.”
“Oh?” Maggie pulled back as if someone had punched her. They had led her to believe the job was hers, and now what? “Who must I talk to? The children’s father? I’ve traveled so far…”
Mrs. Lewis’s smile never slipped, but of course not. She wasn’t the one put on the raft without a paddle, but Maggie felt very much adrift at the moment. She watched the woman turn to her grandchildren as if ignorant of the tension she’d caused. Or was this some sick way of getting back at Father for what he did? Surely, she didn’t think Maggie had anything to do with the things he and her husband had done.
“Girls, it’s time for you to meet this Mrs. Thompson.” The voice was as cheerful as her smile had been. She pulled the two girls forward. “Maggie, I’d like for you to meet Emma, who is nine years old, and Clara, who is seven. They will decide because it’s a very important decision, isn’t it, girls?”
“But…” She wasn’t sure what she could say. This was very unusual. A flutter in her stomach did nothing to settle her nerves.
“Well, girls, you must ask Mrs. Thompson questions to determine if she is the one we want.” The woman settled back as if to watch, her eyes dancing with delight while a smile hovered about her mouth.
The oldest child, Emma, cocked her head to one side. She appeared as uncomfortable as Maggie felt. “Mrs. Thompson, I’m glad you came to see us. Do you like our town?”
Maggie glanced toward the window. She hadn’t seen enough of the town to make a judgement, but tiny as it was, it might be better than what she was used to. How could she know? “I suppose what I’ve seen of it, I like fine. Do you enjoy living here?”
Emma ducked her head and nodded. “I have lots of friends. Maybe you can make friends, too. Do you go to church?”
That was an easier question. “Yes, I’ve always attended church. In fact, at one time your grandmother and I attended the same one.”
“Then you’ll go to church with us?”
“I would love to.” Maggie smiled at the little girl. She seemed shy, but wasn’t afraid to ask questions.
“It’s my turn.” Clara tugged her sister’s arm, then turned to Maggie. “Do you have any children?”
Another straightforward question. Maybe she could do this, although she couldn’t see what it had to do with her suitability as a housekeeper. “No, I’ve never had a child, but I like children.”
“You are really pretty.” Emma spoke then looked at her feet.
Maggie’s soft laughter surprised her as much as it seemed to amuse the grandmother. “Thank you, Emma. You are beautiful.”
“Am I bootiful?” Clara sidled closer until almost touching her knee.
Maggie couldn’t resist the long curl resting on her small shoulder. “Yes, you both are very beautiful. I would love to have curls like yours.”
The little one gave her a serious look. “I’d give you some of mine, but Papa doesn’t want my hair cut.”
Again Maggie wanted to laugh, but feared hurting the little girl’s feelings. “I don’t blame him for that. It would be a shame to cut such beautiful hair off and throw it away, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.” The deep voice that spoke came from behind her.
She swung around to find a tall, dark-haired man with eyes as brown as Clara’s looking down at her. Her heart jumped into her throat until she couldn’t get her breath.
“Papa!” Two childish voices cried out at the same time as the girls ran past her, their arms outstretched.
He knelt and pulled them into his arms for a quick hug. When he pulled back, he glanced toward Maggie. “Well, what have you decided? Will this woman do, or do we need to keep looking?”
Maggie sputtered, but couldn’t get a coherent word to come out her mouth. How dare the man speak so bluntly within her hearing? She stood and turned toward him ready for battle with the rude man. All this talk of being the girls’ mother. As if! She had no intention of marrying anyone, and certainly not such a rude oaf as Mr. Lewis. So what if he had the most adorable little girls she’d ever seen?
But when she opened her mouth to try again, he held up a hand toward her and flashed a wide grin that transformed his face into an appealing specimen of mankind. Far beyond the appeal of her husband, and look how he’d turned out. No, she wouldn’t allow another charming man to pull the wool over her eyes, and he’d better not think otherwise. Although her thoughts ran rampant through her mind, she remained quiet, waiting to hear what the girls had to say about her. After all, she was stuck out in the ocean on a raft without a paddle. She couldn’t very well walk back to New York, and she had little enough money to keep her only a day or two.
Within the circle of their father’s arms, the girls turned toward her, their shy smiles calming her troubled heart. Emma spoke first. “I like her. She’s pretty and nice. She doesn’t have any children, so maybe she can pretend we’re hers sometimes.”
“Clara, what about you?” He looked at his youngest.
“I want her to stay. Can she be our new mommy?”
Their responses, despite the little one’s desire for a mommy took the starch out of her protests. Her icy heart seemed to thaw, but only toward the little girls who apparently liked her, maybe as much as she liked them.
He released the girls and stood, giving her a nod. “Welcome to the family. You’ll have your own room and one day a week off to do whatever you’d like.” Then, as if that settled things, he looked toward his mother. “Now that it’s decided, I need to get back to the mill. I left a job undone, and would like to get it out if possible.”
Mrs. Lewis stood and took Maggie’s arm while the girls ran ahead of their father. He opened the door, holding it for them. When his eyes meet Maggie’s something flashed through them, giving her a strange feeling. Did he know who she was? Did he blame her for what her father did? If so, why would he want to welcome her into his house to take care of his small children?
After getting Maggie’s trunks from storage at the stagecoach office and lifting them into the back of the wagon, Mr. Lewis helped his mother climb to the wagon seat in front. Maggie helped the girls into the back, then followed and sat on a quilt spread over the bare wooden flooring. With a bright-eyed girl on each side of her, she looked from one end of the street to the other. This was Main Street, and it bisected the town, leading out into the country in either direction. Businesses lined the street with a cross street on either side of where they sat in the middle section. Across the street was an open lot with a brick building in the center. A wide path lead from the edge toward the building, and another veered off to a bandstand that stood several feet away in the parklike setting. Obviously, it was the city park, and she wondered if they ever had special activities there.
The wagon jerked and rolled down the street. As they crossed the first intersection, they passed the blacksmith shop, then later the livery and the schoolhouse. Town gave way to country as they rolled on.
Before long, Mr. Lewis called out, “Whoa!”
The wagon slowed and turned to the left, then right into a narrow lane leading to a two-story house set back from the road. The wide covered front porch with a swing spoke of family and good times together, watching the evening light fade to dusk and the children catching fireflies or running through the grass while the adults spoke of their day. A barn sat back from the house with a fence enclosing the surrounding pasture. This was a home like none Maggie had ever known. She could scarcely wait to see inside.
While Mr. Lewis helped his mother from the wagon, Mag
gie went to the back and climbed over the tailgate. As she jumped down, a deep voice reprimanded her. “Are you trying to get hurt? Next time, wait for me to help you. I could have at least lowered the tailgate.”
She looked into his fierce frown. “It isn’t the first time I’ve climbed from a wagon this way.” Pretending he didn’t intimidate her, she shrugged and turned away.
“Or in, I assume.” Was that scorn in his voice?
She glanced back to see. The frown hadn’t relaxed. In fact, his eyes had narrowed even more. What was his problem? He seemed upset, as if he hadn’t gotten his way. Of course, he would take it out on her, because he obviously loved his children very much, and he seemed kind to his mother. But she didn’t think that was his problem. More likely, he knew who she was, same as Mrs. Lewis did. Why they’d offered her the job, she didn’t know. But she intended to do everything she could to help the family, even if she had to put up with the likes of this rude man to do it.
Now she nodded. “I suppose when there was no other way offered, yes, I did. If I’ve offended you, I apologize, but I simply didn’t expect your help.”
“Just because I didn’t help you first?” He shook his head as if disgusted. “My mother comes first. Remember that next time.”
Before she could respond, he turned and stomped to the side of the wagon where his girls were waiting, their eyes wide and watching, probably frightened by him as much as she would be if her anger hadn’t taken the upper hand.
She realized her mistake as soon as she remembered her trunks. She should’ve thrown them out first, because now she couldn’t reach them without climbing again. Even standing on her tiptoes didn’t help.
Stealing the Preacher's Heart Page 15
