Cherished (Cutter's Creek Book 9)

by Vivi Holt

  He worked hard to hide the smile threatening to spread across his face. “Oh, that’s what this is about?”

  “What else would it be?” snarled Winston.

  “Well, you know, Camilla Brown is a woman – she makes up her own mind. You have to respect that.”

  “She was going to marry me, I know it! You did something or said something to make her change her mind, you damn Yankee!”

  “Calm down, Winston – you know better than that. She can’t help how she feels or who she feels it for. It’s best you just come to terms with that and let things be.”

  Winston’s eyes narrowed at Clifford before lowering his head with a quick nod. “You’re right. I don’t know what I could have done differently to make her love me. It doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve to be hit.”

  “Perhaps. But even so, you’re spending the night in the cell here. You can’t punch a sheriff like that, and you know it.” Winston scowled, but didn’t fight as Clifford led him into a cell, locking the door behind him. “I’ll be back soon with supper.” He turned Winston around to remove his handcuffs, then walked out the door to find Tilly.

  He had to see Camilla. There was nothing and no one standing in their way now, and he couldn’t wait to be with her. He let the smile he’d stifled creep across his face, and by the time he climbed onto Tilly’s back he was laughing out loud.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chickens scrambled for the coop, their wings flapping with glee. It was feeding time. Feathers flew and the noise of their cackles echoed over the valley.

  Camilla threw handfuls of grain across the floor of the coop, and they hurried to peck and scratch at it with clawed feet. She loved feeding the animals. Having grown up in England without any livestock of her own, she’d been nervous at first, but now it was her favorite chore. The horses, cattle, chickens and even Alley, the tabby cat that slunk around the barn, were her friends, and she enjoyed their company more than she’d have ever thought possible.

  She brushed her hands against her apron and carried the empty pail back into the barn to return it to its place beside the barrels of grain. A rat scurried from the open barrel and she quickly sealed it shut, wondering where Alley had gotten to. He was fat and sleek with so many rats to eat – maybe he couldn’t keep up. She filled the cat’s water bowl, then turned back to the house.

  The chill of night was invading the air. She shivered and pulled her shawl close around her, watching the sun dip out of sight to send the valley into darkness. Smoke wound its way skyward from the small kitchen chimney, and she saw the glow of lamplight through the front window. The house always looked cozy at this time of day.

  Inside, the squeals of hungry children met her the moment she opened the front door. Charlotte was in the kitchen preparing supper, and Johnny stood at her feet, hands clutching her skirts and his face screwed up as he howled. Anna, equally loud, squalled on a rug in the corner. Charlotte looked harassed and tired, but smiled at Camilla with her hands raised in defeat.

  “You finish supper – I’ll get Anna,” said Camilla, patting her on the arm and hurrying to pick up the screaming baby. “There, there, darling.” She rocked Anna back and forth, and the baby soon stilled, staring with wide blue eyes at her aunt’s face. She carried Anna into the kitchen and cut a piece of bread with her free hand to give to Johnny. He sucked on it, sitting down with a soft thump at Charlotte’s feet.

  “Thank you!” exclaimed Charlotte, looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

  “Don’t mention it,” said Camilla, still rocking Anna.

  “This time of night is the worst.”

  “Yes, it is. But don’t worry, it gets better,” said Camilla, remembering her own experiences raising her siblings back in England.

  “Goodness, I hope so. All right, I’ve finished with the soup, it just has to simmer. More bread is in the oven, and I’ll clean up after we eat. Mother was doing poorly the last time I looked in on her, I just want to run and check her again, if you don’t mind watching Johnny for me. I’ll take Anna in with me and feed her.”

  “Of course, I’m happy to watch him. You go – I’ll keep an eye on supper as well.”

  Charlotte kissed Camilla on the cheek and squeezed her arm. “Thank you – you’re wonderful.” She lifted Anna from Camilla’s arms and carried her down the hall toward the bedroom where Lady Cheryl had lain secluded since Thanksgiving.

  Camilla poured some milk from the pitcher on the kitchen bench into a bowl, and sliced a few more pieces of bread. She dipped the bread into the milk and carried both to the dining table. “Come, Johnny – I have more bread for you,” she sang.

  He stood unsteadily to his feet and toddled after her, still sucking on the piece she’d given him. His chubby cheeks were reddened by the cold air, his blue eyes still filled with tears. He looked so much like Harry, but with fairer hair and blue eyes instead of brown. She smiled and lifted him onto his chair, placing the bowl before him.

  She could hear Charlotte’s voice down the hall. It rose and fell, and she thought it sounded tearful. With Johnny settled, she tiptoed toward the room and stopped to listen.

  “Oh Mother, but what will I do without you?”

  “You will go on, my dear. And you will do fine.” Lady Cheryl’s voice cut off with a hacking cough. Then she spoke again. “I know it’s difficult for you to hear, but I’m ready. It’s my time. I’ve lived a good life, a happy life. And I’m glad to go now to be with my Lord. You’ll understand one day, my dear. I’m sorry to leave you and your darling family, and your father, of course. Be kind to him, Charlotte – I’m afraid he won’t know what to do with himself. He’ll need your help.”

  As Charlotte sobbed, Camilla found herself unable to walk away, even though she knew she should. Her eyes brimming with tears, she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I will, Mother, I promise I will. Only please don’t leave us.”

  “I’m afraid this is one thing I can’t bend to my will.” Camilla could hear the smile in Lady Cheryl’s words.

  “I’ll miss you so, Mother.”

  “I know, my dear. I’ll miss you too.”

  Camilla tiptoed to the dining table, her cheeks streaked with tears. It tore her heart out to hear Charlotte’s pain, and to know that Lady Cheryl didn’t have much longer. She knew how devastated her sister-in-law would be.

  “Cammie?” said a small voice.

  She looked down to see Johnny’s concerned face, his eyes fixed firmly on her tear-stained cheeks. She wiped them dry with the corner of her apron, and bent to smile at him. “Everythin’s just fine, Johnny. Aunty Cammie needed a little cry. But don’t you worry, everythin’ll be just fine –”

  A knock at the door interrupted her and she stood straight, running her hand over her auburn hair self-consciously. I wonder who that is? Heaven only knows what I look like after the day I’ve had.

  She walked to the door and opened it to see Clifford Brentwood standing there, hat in hand. His blue eyes sparkled at her. “Clifford, what on earth are you doing here at this time of night?”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s quite a greeting.”

  She felt her cheeks flush, “Sorry. I mean, it’s good to see you.”

  “I was hoping we could take a walk.”

  She blanched. “Surely you jest! I don’t think I’ll ever take another walk at night as long as I live.”

  He chuckled. “Good point. How about we walk to the barn and back? Do you think you could manage that?”

  She nodded, “Just a moment – let me see if Harry will watch Johnny.” She returned to the house and through the back door to find Harry sharpening a knife in the outside pantry. He followed her in to watch Johnny, and she joined Clifford outside, pulling her shawl around her shoulders, drawing a deep breath of frigid air into her lungs and hugging her arms to her chest.

  They fell in, side-by-side, and wandered together toward the barn. “I guess you told Winston you didn’t want to marry hi
m,” chuckled Clifford.

  Her eyes flew wide, “Oh dear, what did he say? Did he come to see you? Oh, I knew he would.”

  He laughed, turned and grasped her arms with his strong hands. “Yes, he did. And I have a bruise or two to show for it.” He pointed to the knot forming on the side of his mouth.

  Camilla lifted a hand to run her fingers gently over the mark. “Oh no! He hit you? I’m so sorry.”

  “Never mind. I’ve survived worse. Anyhow, he’s spending the night in lock-up to think it through.”

  “He is? Oh, this is terrible.”

  He slipped his hands behind her waist and pulled her toward him, a look of hunger in his eyes. “Let’s not talk about Winston any longer. I have other things I’d like to discuss with you.”

  She slanted her face towards his and felt she might explode with pleasure when his lips found hers. This time they were urgent and full of desire as they tugged at hers. Nibbling, tasting and pressing against his mouth, she explored it in new ways. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe, her body swamped with desire, and she moaned.

  After an eternity he pulled away, his eyes still closed, and tugged her hands from his neck to place them in his. She looked at him, eyebrows arched in question.

  Then he knelt before her, and she gasped and giggled with delight. “My darling Cammie, my life has been changed because of you. I can never go back to the lonely life I was leading before I met you. I want to spend all my days with you by my side. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Her heart thudded in her chest and she felt a wave of joy sweep over her as she looked at his upturned face. His eyes were full of love, his bearded face parted by a wide grin. His strong hands covered hers, and she turned hers over to stroke his fingers as tears filled her eyes. “Yes, I will. I can’t imagine wantin’ anythin’ more than I do you.”

  He leaped to his feet and took her back into his arms to kiss her again. When they parted, they linked hands, fingers intertwined. “And I don’t want to wait,” Clifford added, his eyes gleaming. “I think we should do it soon.”

  “I agree,” said Camilla, surprising herself. Where was the panic? Shouldn’t she get to know him better first? But now there was nothing holding her back. She wanted to marry him, and felt nothing but excitement at the prospect.

  “Let’s tell everyone,” said Clifford, pulling her toward the house.

  Camilla paused. After the exchange she’d heard minutes earlier between Charlotte and her mother, she wasn’t sure it was the best time to share their good news. Then she remembered what Charlotte had told her – that any good news could bring a small joy to Lady Cheryl. “Yes, lets,” she agreed, following him inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  For Camilla, the church service in the little red chapel that Sunday was torturous. With Clifford by her side, she could think of nothing but his touch, his kisses, his body against hers. Rev. Latsch’s sermon floated over her head, and the worship that usually made her heart soar slipped by – she was unable to remember a single note they sang. “How will I ever gather my thoughts to concentrate on a single thing again if you’re to be my husband?” she whispered in his ear with a giggle as they rose to sing the final hymn.

  He grinned and his hand brushed against hers, sending a thrill up her arm that made her flesh goose-pimple.

  Afterward, she hurried to the front of the chapel to see her friend Willow Carlson. Jack Carlson, Jr. had arrived two weeks earlier and was cradled in her arms. Camilla bent over the tiny baby to watch him blink and coo. She smiled and stroked his face with her fingertips. “Oh Willow, he’s gorgeous. And getting so big already.”

  “How are you, Cammie?” asked Willow with a sigh. She looked tired, with dark circles beneath her eyes.

  “I’m wonderful, thank you. I’m engaged!”

  “Oh, how lovely – I’m so happy for you. Winston finally popped the question?”

  “Ahh … not exactly. Sheriff Brentwood did.” Camilla waited for Willow’s reaction. She knew the news would be a surprise to the townsfolk, and hoped someone else might spread the word for her. How Willow reacted would give her some indication of how others would receive it. As beloved in the community as she was, if Willow approved of the union, the town would accept it as well. Camilla was concerned that the town’s sympathy would lie with Winston, and they’d be shocked by her engagement to Clifford.

  “Clifford? Really? Goodness gracious, whatever happened to Winston?” asked Willow, her eyebrows cocked in surprise.

  “Well, I ended things with Winston. He did ask for my hand, but I couldn’t agree to marry him when my heart belonged to another.”

  Willow smiled and gave Camilla a one-armed hug, with the baby nestled in the other. “Good for you, Cammie. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

  “Thank you, Willow. Your blessin’ means a lot to me.”

  People were milling around the chapel and wandering out into the frozen landscape through the wide-open double doors. Camilla looked up as Harry ran into the church. He scanned the congregation frantically until he spotted her, then beckoned her over.

  She hurried to greet him. “Harry, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Lady Cheryl – Charlotte asked that you come quickly!”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll just find Clifford to let him know.”

  ***

  They rode back to Harry and Charlotte’s house in silence. When they walked into the house and made their way to the bedroom where Lady Cheryl lay, the somber atmosphere washed over them like a tidal wave. Camilla felt a lump form in her throat as she remembered all the times as a young girl she’d watched through wide blue eyes Lady Cheryl riding through Greyburn in a barouche or strolling between stalls at the markets, her glamorous gowns and fashionable hairstyles leaving everyone in awe.

  She’d wondered what kind of life the lady of Beaufort Manor must lead. Her imagination conjured up lavish balls, sumptuous feasts and people bowing low to her wherever she went. Of course, she’d never seen any of these things herself, so the details were fuzzy, but regardless, she’d always admired her.

  They entered the room to see Charlotte seated on one side of the bed and Lord Edward pacing back and forth on the other, his face ashen and his eyes red. Charlotte sobbed and held her mother’s limp hand between hers, bending her head over the bony fingers. Johnny played quietly in the corner with a steam engine whittled from timber. He pushed it up and down the length of his arm and over the floor, making the whooshing and clacking noises no doubt relayed to him by his grandfather, who’d taken the train west to see them.

  Camilla’s heart fell at the sight of the emaciated, still form of Lady Cheryl. The life was going out of her, only lingering around the edges. She was unrecognizable as the enchanting lady of the manor from Camilla’s childhood days. She rushed to Charlotte’s side, and knelt to embrace her friend. “Charlotte, Lord Edward – how are you holdin’ up?”

  “Cammie, thank you for coming,” said Charlotte through her tears. “It won’t be long now.”

  “Can I get you anythin’, do anythin’ at all to help?”

  “No thank you. Just sit here with me a while if you will.”

  “Of course.”

  “Lord Edward, how is she?” asked Harry in a hushed voice.

  “I’m afraid it is just a matter of time. Dr. Potter was here earlier and said she’d be unlikely to last the night. What will I do without her?” He fell against the bed in anguish and grasped hold of his wife’s hand to cry against it. “Oh, what will I do without you, my love?!”

  Everyone fell silent, even Johnny. Camilla’s heart felt heavy in her chest, and the lump in her throat seemed about to choke her. A sob escaped, and she fought to compose herself. It wouldn’t do Lord Edward or Charlotte any good to see her cry. She must be strong for them.

  “Mother!” cried Charlotte, leaning over the bed.

  Lady Cheryl’s eyes had opened, and she gazed around the roo
m with a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “M’darling,” she whispered, lifting a hand to graze Charlotte’s wet cheek.

  Lord Edward, bent over her other hand, lifted his tear-streaked face to meet her gaze. “Cherie, I’m here,” he said. She smiled, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead and stroke her face. “Everything is just fine. I’m here with you always, just as I promised all those years ago.”

  “You’ll take care of them?” she asked with a glimpse of fear behind her eyes.

  “Yes, my darling. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He choked back a sob.

  “I can rest then.”

  “Yes, you rest. I will see you again, my love.” He kissed her again.

  Her face looked peaceful as she closed her eyes and took her final breath. Charlotte burst into a howl and lay her head on the bed beside her mother. Lord Edward kissed Lady Cheryl’s hand and stood up in silence, watching his wife drift away for her final journey. Then he turned and strode from the room, his face stony.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “What do you mean, it’s broken?” cried Camilla, eying the wagon’s rails in dismay.

  “Sorry, sis – I’m doin’ my best.” Harry stood and wiped his grease-covered hands on a rag slung over his shoulder.

  “Will it be done in time?”

  “Hmmm … hope so.” He grinned and winked at her. “If all else fails, we can just go on horseback.”

  “You must be jokin’!” Camilla stamped her foot in consternation. “I’m not ridin’ on horseback to my wedding, Harry Brown!”