That was as good a place to start as any, he supposed. He grabbed a garbage bag and was almost done picking up the worst of the clutter when he saw the DVD that had been laying on the floor since the morning he’d kicked Everly out.
He found his laptop and placed it on the coffee table. With shaking hands he inserted the disc. It was a series of video clips from his childhood, all of them short, homemade by Jon and himself. Even through the pain he couldn’t help but smile at their childish antics. More clips followed of them in the service together, at Jon’s wedding, and at barbecues with Jon’s family. He watched it all with dry-eyed longing. What had happened? What had he missed? How had his friend slipped so completely off track without him noticing?
The screen went black for a moment, and then Marsha’s face filled the screen.
“Hi Connor. I’m recording this because I’m not sure I will have the strength to say what needs to be said to your face without getting mad. I’m sure that however Jon really ended, it was…bad. I can’t even imagine, and I don’t want to know. I wanted to show you how I remember him though, and how you should too. That’s what he’d want. I get if you can’t look at me for a while, or ever, without hurting. Just don’t throw out the good memories with the bad, okay? Jonathan wouldn’t want that.”
He saw the tears start to fall slowly down her face as she reached forward to stop the recording. He was shocked to realize that there were tears in his own eyes as well. Only a few, too little to actually fall, but still, he thought he’d cried every last one in his youth. A couple solitary tears that represented cleansing, starting over, and he knew what he had to do.
Chapter Twelve
Everly could hardly believe her ears when the secretary had called her to say that Connor Mitchell was there to see her.
“Thank God,” she whispered after she’d asked the secretary to send him in.
She stood uncertainly as he entered. He was thinner, to be sure, and paler. But there was a softness in his eyes that had been missing the entire time she’d known him. She waited, uncertain of how to proceed.
He made his way to her, ignoring the professional boundary of her desk as he always had. Her heart hitched at having him so near after not seeing him for a month.
“So I stayed drunk for a little over a month,” Connor began with a rueful smile. “Then, once I finally stayed awake and sober for a few hours at the same time, I thought about Jon, thought about the things you’ve said.”
He took a deep breath, and Everly waited for him to continue.
“I do need help. I don’t want to tell anyone else what really went down with Jon. It won’t bring anyone back and it will only hurt everyone involved, the way I see it. The families of everyone who died thinks that those men died at the hands of terrorists. I don’t want to rob them of that any more than I want to see Jon’s memory trampled through the dirt, but I need some help to deal with this, so I’d like to make an appointment to come back and see you.”
“You don’t have to come here. I could help you any time you need it, Connor. Day or night.”
“Still, we’ll do it here. You might as well get paid for all the trouble I’ve caused you. Before I start with those appointments though, there’s something else I could use your help with…”
Chapter Thirteen
The next weekend Connor and Everly walked hand in hand. Marsha walked beside them through the park, while her two older children scampered ahead of them toward the playground. They’d just gone out for ice cream, and now they were going to give the children a chance to play themselves out before Marsha brought the kids home, and before Connor brought the beautiful woman beside him back to his place.
He reveled in the feel of Everly’s hand in his own. It seemed amazing that a week ago, he’d been drowning himself in liquor, half hoping he’d follow Jon to an early grave, but now he felt…peace. He and Marsha had spent the entire time in the ice cream parlor telling Everly stories about some of his and Jon’s escapades, and he found that he could laugh and remember the past fondly. Not without a twinge of pain of course, but this pain was bittersweet. After the soul-rending anguish he’d felt before, he could handle bittersweet, especially with a strong woman by his side to help him through.
He couldn’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss, and loved how her lips curved into a smile at the simple gesture.
“Uncle Connor and Everly sitting in a tree—“
“Jenny, that’s enough,” Marsha told her oldest daughter in a scolding tone.
Everly just laughed, and Connor couldn’t help but join her.
“I guess we do seem a little whipped,” he admitted with a smile.
“A little?” Marsha scoffed, “Everly, this man has never brought a single girl home for me to meet, and you have him eating out of the palm of your hand. He’s most certainly whipped.”
Connor stopped and turned Everly so that she faced him, so that he could look into her beautiful eyes.
“Well, Marsha,” he spoke to her, but his eyes never left Everly’s, “For the first time in my life, I’m thinking that being whipped is just fine with me.”
And it was.
THE END
BEAR’S (mail order) BRIDE
STORY DESCRIPTION
Lilly needs a way out. The mail order bride agency may be her only hope of escaping the clutches of her cruel and abusive husband. But, will any man want a jaded, “no longer fresh” 27 year old woman?
Eli doesn’t want a wife, but he needs one. The wealthy bear shifting brothel (ahem… saloon) owner needs to present an image of respectability. He needs a wife—in name only.
Lilly sounds perfect. Older and widowed, she’s not some young virgin preoccupied with illusions of love and romance.
Unfortunately, once his bride-to-be arrives, Eli can think of little else but disrobing her and claiming her as his wife in every sense of the word!
Chapter One
Eli stepped out onto the front porch of the saloon, the freshly painted doors swinging shut behind him. A woman was perched on the edge of one of the rockers, her hair artfully curled and piled high atop her head, cheeks and mouth a painted pink color. She greeted the men who came close enough to be tempted by her buxom beauty and husky, suggesting voice.
Flowers spilled out of the window boxes, their fragrance another heady reminder of Eden and temptation, and Eli swept a critical eye over the whole building. Everything about it was fresh and beckoning. The new shutters, the candles in the windows. He could find nothing amiss. This was just the kind of place a hungry man might come when he was looking for some sweet, feminine company, and a good time.
The woman on the porch drawled a greeting to him, and he felt her eyes linger on his body as he stepped off the porch, her own hunger for him palpable. He pulled his hat low over his eyes, in what he hoped was close enough to a response. “Ma’am,” he said, not pausing or inviting conversation.
The countryside spilled out in front of him, an endless view of gorgeous sunset, mountains draped in the background. Nevada had certainly been a wise choice for him. Just the kind of place he needed to take his newly found wealth for a fresh start.
He’d found a lot more than just the gold in Sacramento. Although, it certainly wasn’t the thing that had changed his life the most. He didn’t linger on the dark thought for too long, just long enough to remind himself of why he’d come out here in the first place. It certainly wasn’t for the women. His eyes drifted toward the mountains in the backdrop. They were why he’d come here, after all. Refuge.
He shook his head. It was up to him to seem like any other entrepreneur, searching for a way to invest his money wisely — not like a man skulking on the edge of society and trying to hide his secrets.
So here he was, in the outskirts of Reno, putting his money to work. And so far it was working pretty damn hard. And in the process he’d been able to create a life that supported his…specific needs. He was grateful for all of that because he knew that hadn’t been a
guarantee, but, if he continued to have to dodge these tiresome come-ons from these pretty working girls, he was going to lose his mind.
Eli knew what the real problem was, of course. Aside from the problem that had led him to Reno in the first place. He was unattached, and it was an open invitation to be pursued. He’d tried to suggest gently he wasn’t interested, but those women looked at him like he was a walking piece of gold. He tried less gently. He was downright rude. Nothing seemed to work. And whether he claimed disinterest or not, they wanted to believe they were going to be the one that was different from all the others. Or that he was playing hard to get. Or that he just didn’t know the kind of opportunity he was passing up.
When it became painfully clear that claiming he didn’t want a woman wasn’t the answer, he’d tried to tell them he had someone waiting back in California, anxiously waiting for him to send for her.
That hadn’t worked either. Out of sight, out of mind, and the girls assumed she didn’t mean that much to him if she wasn’t there in bed beside him.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. Having a wife in the traditional sense just wasn’t an option for him. How would he explain his unaccounted for nocturnal activities? His unusual proclivities. Even before Sacramento, he had enjoyed the occasional woman, but never thought he was the marrying kind. But being single was clearly not the option he had thought it would be.
He stalked through the back of the property toward the simple cabin he called his home and resolved to put this whole damn woman issue behind him, whatever that might take.
Lilly arranged her hair just so. She was trying to place her bonnet strategically so her face was in the deepest shadow possible. She’d done her best to cover up the bruises, but the harsh truth was, no amount of powder could hide the swelling, the creeping blue and yellow. She would just have to keep her head down and not make eye contact.
She was going to be just another woman walking into the broker’s office, and, God-willing, there would be a man out there who would take a chance on something other than a wholesome, fresh-faced girl, unbroken and not yet ravaged by life.
She certainly didn’t have that to offer anyone.
Lilly sat through the interview the best she could, trying to ignore the throbbing across the side of her face and the stiffness in her shoulder, hoping nothing she did would betray her secrets.
As far as the broker was concerned, she was a young window, her husband tragically lost to a timber accident. Their region of Canada was in the midst of a building boom and it happened all the time. She was just one of many women out there, looking for a man who would be willing to take care of her.
But the set of her mouth and the pain in her eyes wasn’t left over from sickening grief, the loss of a mate. The broker didn’t need to know that, though. It was Lilly’s burden to carry, and she was finally in a place where she felt she could do something about it.
The broker shuffled some papers and said he would be in touch, letting his eyes linger on her, and Lilly wondered if he was thinking she would be easy to place or if she would prove to be one of those women who sat on a shelf and didn’t move. She desperately prayed it would be quickly. Every day there was a little bit less of her left to get her through to the next morning.
Eli leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. Lawyers weren’t known for wanting to keep their clients around, and he was fairly certain they picked the furniture for their offices with that in mind.
He’d flipped through the applications and interviews. To be honest, he was having a hard time investing the kind of energy and interest you would expect someone picking out a wife might have. He wanted to tell the lawyer to choose for him. Who ended up in his bed meant nothing at all to him.
In the end he settled on a woman called Lilly. There was no photograph and just a vague description. There was nothing at all to set her apart from the other papers in the stack. Except her age. The deciding factor. She was the only one over 20, the only one of the bunch who was widowed. If she was anything like any of the other women he’d known, she would be the type to settle right into the life he already had. She wouldn’t come sweeping in, expecting romance or to be able to change the way he lived or who he was.
Certainly, a twenty-seven year old woman in mourning would be just the kind of woman Eli could step into a marriage contract with. She wouldn’t want anything from him, and he wouldn’t want to take anything from her. That seemed to be the ideal circumstance.
After all, he’d known many eighteen year olds; he didn’t need one of those harping at him under his own roof.
Lilly had been making the trip twice weekly.
She knew she couldn’t wait for him to come to her. There was no telling whether or not he would be seen. Whether or not she would be in any condition to answer the door. She’d figured he would come to expect her arrival and it wouldn’t even cross her mind that he should track her down.
Now, he stood when she pushed open the door to the office, and smiled, like she was just the person he’d been waiting to see step through the threshold.
“Lilly. Wonderful! I was just going to make my way out to you.”
She nodded and tried to swallow her horror at the idea. How fortunate she’d made the journey earlier than usual today.
He stepped around the desk, shuffling through sheaths of paper.
“I’ve just had some paperwork arrive. I have great news; you’ve been selected by a man in,” he took another look at the papers, as though he’d barely glanced at them beyond checking out the commission he would make on the placement. “Nevada.” He smiled up at her. “Quite the trip. I hope you’re ready.”
Her heart was hammering, and she reached for the papers, hoping the trembling she felt in her fingers wouldn’t be noticeable to the broker. Her very prayers had been answered.
Eli Walker. That was the man’s name. She imagined the weight of the name on her tongue, vaguely aware that it would become her name as well.
She breathed a heavy sigh and refrained from embracing the papers or the man in the office. “Wonderful,” she murmured instead. “When am I to be expected?”
He looked down at the papers again. “Immediately. He’s sent the funds for your stage fare.”
In a daze, she took the papers from him. She had already paid the man his fees when she’d first applied to be a bride. It was money she had scrimped and saved, scrounged up from the depths of laundry and from taking on extra mending. She was dreading the next installment because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to provide any more without raising the suspicions of her husband. That needed to be avoided at all cost. She knew she had only this one opportunity, and she couldn’t risk losing it.
And now she had this. An acceptance. Fare for the stage. She could cry in relief.
The broker put together the last of the paperwork, and she knew he would receive an additional commission fee from the man who had purchased her. Brokering women was a lucrative business; Lilly wasn’t so naive as to not know the truth of her situation. She wasn’t above using it as an exit strategy.
With the paper packet in hand, she stepped out of the office in a daze, stopping by the station for a schedule and purchasing her ticket. There was a late night stage coach leaving, and she knew her husband would be out, doing God knows what, and coming home mean and drunk.
It would be the perfect time to leave.
Back at home, Lilly packed sparsely, leaving as much as she could behind. She didn’t want the reminder of who she was, who she had been, or the things the man she’d endured for years had bought her.
With her satchel packed, Lilly set it near the door and tried to be patient, waiting for the darkness to shield her desperate exit.
Chapter Two
Lilly settled back into the bench on the stagecoach. No amount of cushion was going to make the ride comfortable, but she felt the tension beginning to ease out of her as they worked their way farther and farther away from the place she had called her
home.
After dark, when the house was eerily quiet, and she could hear only the sounds of her own breathing and the ticking of her time piece — no matter how much she strained her ears — she made her way out into the night, clutching her bag, her feet moving quickly over the ground.
She’d chosen her darkest dress and a matching bonnet, hoping to hide as many distinguishing features as possible and had lied about her name and final destination when she had bought her ticket. She wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if James discovered her whereabouts.
There was only one other pair on the stage with her and the darkness had lulled everyone into silence. Lilly tipped her head back and closed her eyes, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time, her future unfolding before her.
Eli sat patiently at the station, waiting for his new bride to arrive. They hadn’t corresponded, but his lawyer had assured him she had made it on the initial stage and, while it was quite the trip from Eastern Canada to Reno and a multi-week endeavor, Lilly was expected to make her appearance tonight, nearly a month after her acceptance.
He checked his pocket watch. He’d considered not coming at all, to maybe send someone else to pick her up in his stead. But he knew that would do little to alleviate the advances of the women who worked for him. He had to at least appear interested in his woman’s arrival. Plus, he needed that time alone with Lilly to iron out all the little details and to create their backstory. It would do him no good at all if everyone knew he had ordered a woman he’d never met and cared nothing for. It would do even less if they knew he had no intention of consummating that marriage. She needed to know all the particulars if this was going to have a half chance in hell of working.
Bears of Burden: STERLING Page 74
