Mail Order Bride: CLEAN Western Historical Romance: Denial of the Resistant Bride (Three Brides of Haines Press Book2)

by Faye Sonja

  Florence’s lavender eyes went wide before going back to their normal size. “You know, I’ve always thought that Joe should know who the real C.C. Reed was.”

  Clara’s eyes went wide. “No way. I can’t let people know that they’re reading my books.”

  Eve shook her head. “Joe is not people. Joe is your best friend. He’d keep your secret as I am sure he’s kept other secrets of yours.”

  Clara looked away. Joe was keeping some of her darkest secrets; mainly anything that pertained to her childhood. The subject of how Clara had been used and abused would have been gossip of the sweetest kind in Haines. The city didn’t have that much to gossip about, so anything that happened, automatically became big news and stuck around for a spell; like the stories about Florence’s mother. Florence’s mother had been dead for years, yet some people still tended to treat Florence like the black sheep of the town. Of course, dating Eddie didn’t help, but when the entire town was trying to steer their sons away from Florence and her alluring, deep purple eyes, the pickings were slim. Either way, Eve was right. Joe could keep a secret, but… “I don’t want him to know.”

  “Why?” Florence asked.

  “Because, if I tell him then he might not enjoy the books as much.”

  Eve blew out a breath. “Clara, everyone likes Jack Adams. Trust me. Joe might even love the series more, knowing that the author is his best friend.”

  “Or,” Clara began. “He could not.”

  Florence narrowed her eyes. “Joe’s opinion means that much to you?” She smiled.

  Clara drew her brows together. “Of course. Joe’s my friend. He reads the books to me, not knowing that I wrote them.”

  “Write him back, Clara,” Eve broke in. “Tell him how you feel or one day you’ll regret it.”

  Clara lifted a single black brow. “A year ago, you never would have suggested this.”

  Eve smiled. “A year ago, I was a single woman.” Her smile pulled up higher on her face as she spoke. “Now, I’m a woman who is married to a wonderful man.”

  Florence smiled. “Robert is great.” She put a hand on Eve’s lap, but then frowned. “If only he’d left his brother back in New York…”

  “Having trouble with Benjamin?” Clara asked.

  Florence stood. “He’s just so irritating, Clara.” She started to pace. “It’s like I breath and he shows up. I sit down at my desk and he’s over my shoulder. And he always has to give his opinion. He’s a perfectionist!” She threw her hands up in the air.

  Clara brought her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “A very handsome perfectionist.” She smiled.

  Florence looked away. “He looks like Robert.”

  Eve laid out on the loveseat; taking up the space Florence had freed. She was small enough to fit perfectly. She propped her arm up on an elbow. “That’s an understatement. They’re identical twins.”

  Florence took the Victorian chair that was closest to the fireplace. A Cheyenne tribal quilt lay behind her. She took it and wrapped it around her. “Well, trust me, Eve. You got the better of the two.”

  “Hmm,” was all Clara said.

  Florence narrowed her eyes. “I’m in love with Eddie and even if I wasn’t, I want nothing to do with Benjamin Manning.”

  Clara stood. “Let’s forget about men. They’re all bad news.”

  “Except Robert,” Eve said.

  “And Eddie,” Florence added.

  “Not Eddie,” Eve and Clara said in unison.

  They all laughed and the night only brought on more laughter and joking from there on. Time just flew by, but when the sun began to set, Florence and Eve went back to the reason that had brought them over; a letter for Joe. Clara had no idea what she would write him, but before they left, she promised that she would write something and have it done by the end of the week. Clara went to bed wondering if that promise had been a good idea.

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  5

  Chapter FIVE

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  “ Joe wasn’t waiting for a good woman. He

  wasn’t waiting for anyone, but Clara Cain. ”

  Joe watched Clara walk down the aisle of the theatre and smiled. She had a bag in her hand. Joe and some other men were on the stage holding up one of the backdrops for some of the artists to make a few final changes. The backdrop was from the first scene; painted and dressed up to look like a city street. It was a beautiful backdrop, but nothing could turn his eyes from the gorgeous girl that was walking towards him. Clara was wearing a black dress. It had a lace upper part and went down her arms to make sleeves. It matched the perfect jet black of her hair and the lashes that surrounded her striking eyes. She caught his eyes and a smile parted her pale lips. Her beauty outshined the red chairs and bronze walls of the theatre.

  The theatre wasn’t a really grand place, but it was big enough to host most of Haines’ city hall meetings. The room sat about six hundred people, which meant the play would have to do encores in order for most of the people in town, and its outside visitors, to get a chance to see it. Right now there were people shouting to one another from the balcony. Some of the actors were pacing through the pews; going over their lines, one after the other. Joe stood still until he got the okay to move. The backdrop was finally tied up and in place at the rafters, and would slide in and out when necessary. No one was a professional in theatre, but the town came together to create quality entertainment.

  He met Clara right before she touched the stage. He hadn’t seen her in a few days and had been worried about her, but seeing her now, he felt excited. He had so much he wanted to share with her. So much had happened in the last few days.

  Clara held the bag out for him. “Lily wanted me to make sure you had your lunch.”

  Joe took the bag. “C.C. Reed wrote me.”

  Clara smiled. “That’s nice.”

  Joe frowned. “Don’t you want to know what she said?”

  Clara’s eyes went wide. “Oh, she’s a she, is she?”

  Joe nodded and then leaned over to whisper to Clara. “But I’m only allowed to tell you; no one else.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes. “Really? Why do you think that is?”

  Joe shrugged. “Maybe she thinks people won’t read her books if they knew she was a woman.”

  Clara nodded. “Sounds like a good reason to me. I say you should definitely keep her secret.”

  Joe looked off. He smiled. “Definitely.”

  Clara gave a single nod. “Good.”

  Joe smiled. “I’m going to write her again.”

  Clara frowned. “Why?”

  Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to know more about her, I guess.” The letter C.C. Reed had written back hadn’t said much, but it had been enough to peak Joe’s curiosity. He couldn’t believe that Jack Adams had been created in the mind of a women. Though a hero, Jack lived in a very lonely world. “She interests me.”

  Clara’s frown grew. “She does?”

  Joe’s smile got even wider. He swept a finger over Clara’s nose. “What’s that face for?”

  Clara’s eyes went wide. “What face?”

  Joe narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know. A face of disapproval?”

  Clara crossed her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joe Dawson. You can do whatever you want.”

  Joe looked into his bag. “I will.” He looked at Clara. “There’s enough here for two. Did you eat?”

  Clara shook her head. “No.”

  Joe nodded. “Come on.” He led her to the front of the hall and into the spacious lobby area. There were others milling about; eating and carrying on. The first rehearsal was scheduled for this afternoon, and the nervousness was thick in the air. Joe leaned against a wall on the side of the room and slid down to the floor; keeping his knees up. Clara joined him. He pulled out sandwiches. Clara took one. Joe was biting into his
own when he finally said, “What do you think she’s like?”

  Clara held the sandwich by her mouth. “Who?”

  “C.C. Reed.” Joe looked straight ahead, watching the people in their various groups. He turned towards Clara, realizing she hadn’t answered him. “Clara, did you hear me?”

  Clara was sitting straight-legged. The sandwich sat on her lap; barely touched. She was staring at him now. Joe waved a hand in her face. He frowned. “Clara?” Clara’s eyes fluttered. “Yeah?”

  “What do you think C.C. Reed is like?”

  Clara shrugged. “Old and wrinkly.”

  Joe laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

  Clara’s eyes went wide. “You do?”

  Joe nodded. “I mean, only someone with a little bit of age and wisdom could write books like this.”

  Clara frowned. “So, nobody who was twenty or thirty could pull this off?”

  Joe shook his head. “Definitely not.”

  Clara shook her head. “First, you say she can’t be a woman. Now you say that if she is a woman, she must be old.”

  Joe looked at her, resting his arms on the tops of his knees. “You said she was old first.”

  Clara opened her mouth and then closed it. She opened it again. “But I believe that there is an equally likely chance that she is a young woman as well.”

  Joe sighed. “Okay, Clara,” he mocked.

  Clara narrowed her eyes. “I think she’s young.”

  Joe shrugged. “I’ll ask her.”

  Clara went back to her sandwich. “You do that.”

  “I will.” Joe sighed. “I have to get back in there.”

  “How’s it coming along?”

  “Fine, but I’ll be happy once Jimmy is well.”

  Clara wiped her hands and mouth with the napkin that Joe offered. “You don’t like helping with the play?”

  Joe wiped his own hands. “It’s not my favorite thing.”

  Clara frowned. “Then why did you say you’d do it?”

  He shrugged. “Because I could.”

  Clara shook her head. “You let people use you too much, Joe.”

  Joe met Clara’s eyes. “You think so?”

  Clara nodded. “You should start saying no more often.”

  Joe shook his head. “When someone needs help, if you can say ‘yes’, then the answer should be ‘yes’.”

  Clara smiled, sadly. “You have such a good heart. My father would have scammed you one hundred times over, Joe Dawson.”

  Joe sighed. “Or, his daughter could have shot me.”

  Clara rolled her eyes upward. She laughed. “Will you ever let that go?”

  Joe smiled. “Nope.” He stood up and then helped Clara up. They were still holding hands when Amy came into the room. She took one look at them and paused. She then started over to them. Joe tried to drop his hands, but Clara held on to them tightly. Joe looked at Clara and wondered what she was up to, but couldn’t tell from her face. Clara’s face looked completely neutral; almost pleasant, though without a smile.

  Amy looked at their hands and then at Joe. Her face turned red. “Joe, I hope you aren’t planning on leaving just yet. We still need you.”

  Joe tried once again to take his hands back, but Clara held on to them. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Amy nodded and then looked at their held hands. She visibly swallowed and then fled the room. Once she was gone, Clara dropped Joe’s hands. Joe frowned. “Why’d you do that?”

  Her striking pair of turquoise eyes looked up at him. She shrugged. “I don’t know, because I could?”

  Joe crossed his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Clara shrugged again; but kept her eyes on Joe. “It means that I wanted to drive Amy mad, so I did. I always want to upset her, but I usually don’t. However, today I decided to feed on my impulse to say, ‘yes’ to my inner voice.” She smiled a very cynical smile.

  Joe narrowed his eyes. “Well, your sudden impulses to upset people for no good reason should seriously be ignored.”

  “Why?”

  Joe’s eyes roamed over Clara’s delicate face. They touched her eyes, travelled down the bridge of her dainty nose, and stopped at her lips. Clara’s lips parted. Her eyes widened. Joe took a step towards her. Clara scrambled backwards until she hit the wall. Joe took another step, bringing himself closer, looming over her. Clara’s chest began to lift and fall quickly. Her hands went to the wall. “Joe?” she whispered. She looked around the room before looking back at him. Joe leaned his face towards Clara and then stopped a few inches from her face. Clara paused. Joe smiled. “You see? Good people ignore bad impulses.”

  Clara shook her head; her cheeks red. “No, good people are never tempted to do such things.”

  Joe widened his eyes. “You think good people don’t want to do bad things?”

  Clara nodded. Joe shook his head. “Even Jesus was tempted, Clara.”

  Clara frowned. “You watch your mouth, Joe Dawson.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “Jesus was a good person. The devil failed to tempt him.”

  “Yes, but the devil did tempt him. Could you really tempt someone with things that they don’t already desire? Jesus was hungry. Did he not want bread? Jesus had great power. Was it not a temptation then to take control of the Earth or prove Himself Lord by jumping from a cliff?”

  Clara looked away. “I don’t understand.”

  “Everyone is tempted, Clara, but Jesus set an example of how to overcome those temptations. Being tempted is natural, giving into them is what we’re taught to avoid.” Joe waited for Clara to meet his eyes again before he continued. “Everyone has a choice. You can do bad or you can do good. I do good.” Joe stepped back. “It stops me from doing bad.”

  Clara’s face was red. “I don’t know who you are, Joe Dawson.”

  Joe frowned. “Yes, you do. You always have, Clara.”

  Clara shook her head. “No. My friend Joe would never try to kiss me.”

  Joe lifted a brow. “I didn’t try to kiss you, Clara. I could have kissed you if I wanted to. What I was doing was making a point.”

  “And what point was that?”

  “Don’t play with me again.”

  Clara frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Clara crossed her arms. “No, I don’t.”

  Joe crossed his own. “Oh no? Holding my hand in front of Amy? What did you want her to believe about us?”

  Clara looked away. Joe shook his head. “It wasn’t nice to do that to Amy, and it wasn’t nice for you to do that to me, either.”

  Clara turned back towards him. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Clara tilted her head, giving him a hard look. “If I did, I wouldn’t ask.”

  Joe narrowed his eyes. He sighed. “You know how I feel about you, Clara.”

  They were quiet for awhile. Clara sighed. “Joe, let’s not do this again.”

  Joe nodded. “Okay, that’s fair, so long as you never do what you just did to Amy again.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes. “Do you like her?”

  “What if I do like her?”

  Clara scoffed. “Well, what if I just like to drive her crazy?”

  “Well, the next time you use me to do it, I’ll kiss you.”

  Clara’s eyes widened. Joe struggled to keep his face neutral. “Would kissing me pain you that much?”

  Clara started for the door. “I’m not doing this today, Joe.” She walked around Joe and the impulse to stop her almost made him move, but he stopped himself for many reasons: the first one being that Clara had had an awful past. He wouldn’t touch her like that. He’d never touch her like that, but again, the temptation was there. The second reason was more selfish. He wanted her to go; he needed her to leave. Ten years and she skirted away from his every touch. They’d finally gotten somewhere a few years back, when Clara had started to voluntarily touch him; a hand hold here, a touch of a fing
er there. They’d been simply gestures, but for a woman like Clara, they’d been a lot. She didn’t touch people; ever. She’d made an exception for Eve and Florence, but even that had taken years. Joe thought he’d made progress with her too, but Clara’s anger just proved that he hadn’t. She didn’t want his touch and had told him that the thought of it made her sick. Well, fine. If she didn’t want it, then he wouldn’t give it. Joe shook his head. He loved Clara; probably always would, but they’d just be friends and it was time for Joe to move on, finally.

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  6

  Chapter SIX

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  “ Joe wasn’t waiting for a good woman. He

  wasn’t waiting for anyone, but Clara Cain. ”

  Clara walked quickly down the street to Haines Press. She saw nothing and talked to no one on her way. Once inside, she paused and turned, looking at her book that was still on display. Tears threatened to break from their place in her eyes. A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped. It was Eve. Eve held up her hands. “What are you doing here, Clara? What’s wrong?” Clara shook her head, but didn’t back away when Eve touched her again. Eve started towards the back of the building. “Let’s go to my office.” They’d just closed the door behind them when the first tear slid down Clara’s cheek. She hadn’t cried in years and here she was, crying for the second time in less than a week. She wiped at the tear, wondering why her life was what it was.

  Florence came through the door, closing it behind her. She went to Clara. “I saw you come in. Are you alright?”

  Eve helped Clara into a chair that sat in front of her desk. The office was small, and outside of the plaques that hung from the walls, it was dull, even more so to Clara’s eyes. The room needed more color.

  Florence came to kneel in front of Clara’s chair. “What happened?”

  Eve knelt on the other side, but didn’t speak. Eve wasn’t a woman of many words unless she was fighting a man. Clara choked on a laugh. Eve barely did that anymore; fight men. Robert made Eve happy to the point that Eve was barely Eve anymore. “Joe tried to kiss me,” Clara said.