Olivia's Obligation (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 15)

by Peggy McKenzie

  She had to admit his idea sounded better than the one she was ready to share—that she was living with a man in exchange for his money. Even when she said it to herself, it sounded cheap and tawdry. But she knew it wasn’t. She had a very good reason for entering into this business contract with Christopher. And now his brother.

  Christopher’s children needed a mother and she needed a school. It was a match made in heaven, although she had made the deal with a devil. Thinking of him must have conjured him to appear.

  Her groom had been jostled off by John and Mr. Hanover for a congratulatory drink of Irish whiskey while she chatted with well-wishers, assuring them the school would be up and running by August, when she caught sight of her groom. He was quite handsome in his black suit coat and pants. It was easy to see why women would want to set their caps for him. And, she could admit to herself she wasn’t immune to the man’s charms. Not in the least. But she wasn’t a brainless fool either.

  Her new husband made his way through the crowded parlor, careful to avoid bumping into anyone with the two fluted glasses in his hands, both full of golden bubbly champagne. He sent her a questioning look before handing her one of the glasses.

  “I think it’s time for our wedding toast, don’t you, Mrs. Garrison?” He stood next to her and turned a united front to their wedding guests. She felt his heat through their clothing, making her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

  “Attention, ladies and gentlemen. I’d like to make a toast to my new bride. Please, gather ‘round everyone.”

  Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she met the eyes of her new friends—those who knew their secret. She felt like a fraud pretending to be happily married, but she understood the necessity of it.

  Grace ushered the children around them. The dark headed children crowded close, the two boys snugging up to her, the girls timidly touching her dress. They looked up at her, their sad little faces accentuated by the dark circles under their eyes. They were suffering through such loss while pretending to be happy.

  Her husband’s arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close to him, the timbre of his voice vibrated against her body when he spoke.

  “I want to thank Hiram and Aggie Hanover for their hospitality in allowing Olivia and I to have our wedding in their lovely home. And on such short notice. Mrs. Hanover is a wizard at putting together last-minute celebrations.

  “It’s been a hard couple of days for my family.” She heard the catch in his voice. He cast a loving look down to the children gathered around them. “These children have lost their mother. And now their father.”

  Amanda sniffled. Olivia reached down and hugged her little body close, feeling her doing her best not to cry.

  Chance looked at her in surprise. Did he think she wouldn’t comfort these children? Then she reminded herself that he thought she was a gold digger.

  Olivia needed some distance from her new husband. Now that the wedding was over, it was time to go home.

  “I agree with Mr. Garr—my husband. The last few days have been extremely trying for all of us—especially these children. So if everyone will excuse us, I’d like to take the children home and get them settled. It’s important to get them back into their routines as quickly as possible.”

  Olivia set her glass down on the table next to where she stood and walked to thank Aggie and Hiram personally for their hospitality. She thanked her new friend, Grace, and her sisters, Faith and Hope.

  She skirted around the red-headed sister, Charity. There was something quite odd about that one. Olivia had never seen a woman dress in leather pants and wear a holster with two guns before, but Olivia had never been this far west either, so perhaps this was normal behavior for some women.

  She was aware of Chance’s presence beside her, but she decided to ignore him. Instead, she continued her thank-yous and goodbyes.

  His fingers touched her elbow just before his voice interrupted her. “Would you mind giving me a moment of your time?” he whispered, smiling at their guests.

  “Can this wait, Mr. Garrison? I’d like to get the children home and settled. They are exhausted—”

  “I know they are exhausted. I don’t need you to tell me they are exhausted. I’ve known them a lot longer than the few hours you’ve known them. I know what they need,” he snapped, all the while smiling and nodding to their guests.

  Olivia’s patience was wearing thin. “This isn’t a competition between the two of us. And, if you will read your contract, you will see, I am in charge of the children. You are in charge of the money.”

  She watched his anger rise while trying to pretend to the wedding guests that all was blissfully fine. He reminded her of a banty rooster she once watched strut around the chicken yard, trying to control his hens and having no luck at all.

  “That is unless you are declaring that you want to share responsibilities,” she baited him.

  “Well, of course, I want to share responsibilities. I’m very fond of those children and intend to play an active part in their—”

  She cut him off. “Very well, you may have kitchen duties and bath time while I look over Christopher’s financial accounts.”

  “Like hell you will,” he snapped.

  “Please, keep your voice down. We wouldn’t want our happy little family ruse to be discovered so soon now, would we? And you can’t have it both ways. Pick one or the other.”

  “Pick one or the other? What does that mean?”

  “It means I have my duties—the children and the school. My decisions. My rules. You have the responsibility of ensuring there is enough money for these children to live comfortably until they are grown.

  “If you are going to force me to share my decisions, then what is good for the goose is good for the gander. I’m certain you’ve heard that saying before, Mr. Garrison. It seems quite appropriate where you are concerned. In case you aren’t getting my meaning, if you try to usurp my territory, I’ll insist on invading yours.”

  She watched her groom’s shocked expression morph into anger. She wasn’t about to have this conversation here in the middle of a room full of wedding guests.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to get settled in our new home.” She jabbed him with her words because they were the only weapons she had to defend against him at the moment.

  “Come children, let’s get you home and out of those scratchy new clothes, shall we?” Olivia gathered the children in front of her. “I’ll send for my trunks later this afternoon, Aggie. And thank you again for a beautiful...day.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “wedding”.

  She herded her brood out the door without waiting for her groom. He knew the way home. And she wasn’t his keeper.

  Chapter 7

  Chance seethed as he watched the slender backside of his new bride herd his brother’s children out the door leaving him behind to stew.

  “Looks to me like you lost that battle. Are you sure you want to keep this approach? Doesn’t seem to be working for you.”

  He turned to see Liam standing next to him with two crystal glasses half full of amber liquid. He assumed it was the Irish whiskey the auburn-haired Irishman was so fond of.

  “What approach? I just have a difference of opinion from Miss Know-It-All there. Those are my brother’s children, Liam. My family. Not hers.” Liam offered him one of the glasses. Chance tossed back the expensive whiskey, relishing the smooth burn down the back of his throat.

  “What the hell was Chris thinking when he made his will? He should have known I would have taken care of his kids. Why did he do this, Liam? It doesn’t make sense.” He turned to his friend and searched his face for answers.

  Liam shrugged. “Can’t say, Chance, but I will tell you that Christopher is—was probably the most level-headed, down-to-earth man I’ve ever met, except perhaps John Malone. Maybe you should just trust your brother’s decision whether you agree with it or not. Want another one?” He raised the empty glass toward Chance
.

  “No, I want to keep a clear head when I go to Chris’s—I mean my new home. I’m still reeling from Chris’s death, but now I’m the father of four and a husband. It’s my worst nightmare.” Chance shook his head in disbelief.

  “I used to think as you did. Once. I used to think the world was black and white. Everything had a place and a purpose and that’s where it should remain. But then, I learned that there is no such thing as just black and white.

  “The world is made up of a million shades of gray and it’s up to us to keep our eyes open so we have the opportunity to see their true purpose. Perhaps what you now see as a dark cloud may be a silver lining in disguise.”

  Chance turned to look at his friend. “When did you get so poetic, or is this just the whiskey talking?”

  Liam grinned at him and turned to look at his wife, Faith, standing across the room talking to Aggie. “No. My words are the voice of experience, my friend.”

  Chase wasn’t at all sure he knew what Liam was trying to tell him, but he did agree he wanted to get home and set Miss Palmer straight on a few things. Damn straight. He was in charge and she needed to understand that right from the start.

  He searched out his hosts to thank them. “Ah, there you two are. Hiram. Aggie. Thank you for helping put this event together. You are both amazing as always and I’m grateful to you for watching out for my brother for me. If you will excuse me now, I’m going home to see to the children. You know, make certain they’re alright.”

  Hiram shook his hand and congratulated him again even though Chance didn’t think there was anything to be happy about. Aggie reached out and hugged him, whispering to him before she let him go. “Give it time, Chance. Keep your eyes open for opportunity.”

  He stepped back and studied the woman. “Liam said much the same thing. Are you two conspiring against me?” he half joked.

  Aggie laughed and sidled up to her husband. “Perhaps it’s a case of like-minded optimism.”

  “I’ve never been one to believe in fairy tales, Aggie. I prefer to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground and my eyes wide open. Life has taught me on more than one occasion, that people are not always transparent when they want something from you.”

  Hiram spoke up. “And what is it exactly that you think your new bride wants from you?”

  Chance thought about the question a moment before he answered. “That’s what I intend to find out.”

  He kissed Aggie on the cheek and shook Hiram’s hand. “I better get going.”

  He gathered his things and left the Hanover home. Well-wishers congratulated him all along his ten-minute walk to his brother’s home at the other end of town.

  The two-story house sat at the end of a quiet street and was built a lot like the Hanovers’ with its wrap-around porch and homey feel. He liked it. It was peaceful. Quiet. A retreat of sorts and he found it surprisingly calming, unlike his massive three-story home where the hustle of the busy Boston streets could be heard day or night.

  Chance stepped up on to the front porch and opened the front door where he was greeted with an overwhelming din of chaotic activity.

  He stopped cold, trying to make sense of the scene before him. The ruckus of screams pierced his brain like a pike on stone. “Just what the hell is going on here?” He demanded to know why his brother’s house had been turned into an asylum.

  His nieces and nephews immediately stopped their activities and lined up in order of age and height. He was used to this sight. What he wasn’t used to was this woman sitting on the floor with a most attractive blush of excitement coloring her cheeks, her hair mussed, and her wedding dress skimming her legs just above her knees.

  “Mr. Garrison, if you would be so kind as to close the door behind you? And, I would rather you not use that kind of language in front of the children.” She directed a pointed look in his direction. “The door?”

  He turned as if in a daze and closed the door as directed.

  “Charlie, will you please help me up off the floor?”

  He turned back toward the children to see his eldest nephew take Miss Palmer’s hand and help her to her feet. Then she directed them upstairs for quiet time.

  “Children, I think your uncle and I need to have some grown up time to discuss how we will all move forward. Amanda, please help Tara hang up her clothes. “Charles, you and Evan spend some time picking up that room of yours. Dinner will be late this evening so I’ll call you downstairs in a couple of hours for a snack of apples and goat cheese. Now upstairs, all of you.”

  Chance watched his brother’s children march upstairs in single file until the last one was out of sight.

  “Are you going to join me in the parlor or are you going to stand in the hallway as if you are addled?” He watched the woman disappear into his brother’s formal parlor leaving him no option but to follow.

  “Miss Palmer, I don’t appreciate—” he began.

  Still dressed in her wedding finery, she whirled on him before he could finish. “And I don’t appreciate you cursing in front of the children. You are a father to these children now, Mr. Garrison. Act like one.” Her admonishment stung.

  He approached her, attempting to intimidate her using his height difference to his advantage. If he had any hopes to succeed with his plan to force her to relinquish control of this household and those children to him, he might as well set the tone right this minute.

  Chance glared down at the woman using his best impervious expression. Instead of shrinking under his glare, she posted her hands on her slender hips and glared right back at him in absolute rebellion.

  “You may as well stop this nonsense right now because I won’t be bullied. I thought you understood that before we agreed to this contract.”

  He stood still, unable to pull his eyes away from the dark green depths of hers.

  “Do you hear me? Are you listening? I have obligations to uphold and nothing you can do will stop me from—”

  He pulled her into his arms and watched her deep green eyes cloud with confusion. Chance’s gaze dropped to his new wife’s full, bow-shaped lips. He was used to kissing beautiful women. Perhaps he did it to dominate her. Or maybe it was the sense of calm that came over him when she was near. But most likely it was because he was curious about what it would be like to kiss those luscious lips of this stranger who was now his wife.

  Chance leaned in and kissed her, without waiting for her permission. He kissed her long and deep, relishing the feel of her beneath his hands. He was stunned by the effect she had on him and he realized quickly that he wanted more.

  He pulled away, hoping to see the same passion mirrored by his new bride. And he did, but he hadn’t expected that passion to be in the form of her palm until it made distinct and painful contact with his cheek.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia’s palm stung. She rubbed it against the skirt of her dress, trying to alleviate the pain as well as give herself a moment to think. “How dare you assume that I’m available to you at your beck and call, Mr. Garrison. Just because we are legally married, does not mean I am willing to be your...your....” She couldn’t even find the words.

  “Wife?” he offered with that cocksure smirk of his.

  She tried to pull away from his grip but he wasn’t letting go. “Mr. Garrison, please take your hands off of me right this instant or I shall be forced to—”

  She watched the red hand print on his cheek disappear into his glowing anger. He stepped back from her and offered her a stiff bow.

  “My apologies, Miss Palmer. I seem to have misjudged the situation entirely.”

  “You certainly did.” Olivia’s face flushed. “Now, we have things to discuss so if you don’t mind, please sit down.”

  Olivia wanted as much space between her new husband and herself as possible. Not that she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself.

  Her life at the school had been very sheltered. Their duties kept them busy and Madame Wigg kept a close watch over her fou
ndlings. There was no inappropriate behavior allowed under her roof. The old woman may have appeared frail, but Olivia knew she wielded that cane of hers with an iron fist.

  Olivia’s fingers itched to reach up and touch her swollen lips where Chance had kissed her so thoroughly. Her back to the man now sitting in the chair by the fire, she indulged in a moment to relive it before the memory drifted away. There would not be a repeat of that performance—as much as she wished there could be.

  “Miss Palmer, please forgive me. I’m not usually such a boorish beast. I don’t know what’s come over me. It seems everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours has knocked me completely off my feet and shaken my good sense.”

  His voice soothed her tattered nerves as much as his kiss excited them. She realized she would have to be very careful when it came to her new husband. He was a very experienced man where women were concerned and she had no experience at all. She would not be a casualty of his honed talents at seducing women. She absolutely would not.

  “Miss Palmer? Please.” She heard the creak of the chair as he stood. The last thing she needed right now was for him to come too close again. She wasn’t certain she could keep resisting if he continued to persist. Perhaps Grace Malone could help her gain footing in that department. She would ask her new friend about such matters the next time they met.

  Olivia spun on her heels and stopped the man in his tracks. “Please, sit down Mr. Garrison. We have a lot to talk about. And to be clear, I’m not some silly, starry-eyed debutante who has grand dreams of a happy ever after life. I was brought up by the hard knocks of life’s realities. Men come and go. Women are left behind to deal with the consequences. You and I will get no special exemptions from that sad tale, so it is up to us to exercise proper deportment—at all times.”