Groom by Arrangement

by Rhonda Gibson

  “I’ve heard that, too.” Jackson continued walking. “But, like I said before, it doesn’t concern you.”

  Eve ran along beside him. “It does. She’s my sister.”

  Jackson stopped. “Yes, I’ve been told that, too. Sister or no sister, I am not answering your questions. Talk to Eliza about it if you must. But I am not airing our business with you or anyone else.” He dismissed her by walking away.

  After several steps, he released the breath from his lungs. There were no sounds of her following for which he was very grateful. The two sisters did have something in common besides their looks. Both wouldn’t let a subject go until they had all the answers they thought they deserved.

  He entered his cozy room and plopped down into the chair. Jackson hoped Eliza had better luck answering her sister’s questions then he had, because truth be told there was nothing he could do about the rumors and speculations.

  Eliza Kelly was the only one who could change the way things were, and Jackson knew that if she accepted his proposal, both their lives would be changed.

  Forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eliza watched them from her bedroom window. Her sister’s hand rested on Jackson’s forearm, and there was just enough sunlight left that she could tell Eve was looking up at him.

  Jackson leaned down and said something to her. Eve dropped her hand but her gaze into his face never wavered. Whatever they were saying to each other seemed to aggravate her sister.

  “Ma, I’m ready for my story.” Peter stood behind her in the doorway.

  She dropped the curtain. “All right, what shall we read tonight?” Eliza didn’t feel like reading him a Bible story, but it was something that she’d vowed to do as long as Peter lived with her.

  He ran down the hall and returned a few moments later with the big family Bible that Charlie had bought shortly after they were married. Peter handed it to her. “How about that fishing story again?”

  Eliza smiled at him. “There are lots of fishing stories in the Bible, which one?”

  His green eyes grew even bigger in his small face. “That one where the fish ate that man.” Peter climbed into the overstuffed chair by her bed and waited for her to join him.

  “Jonah and the big fish?” Eliza asked as she sat down beside him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I still have trouble believing that the fish ate him and then got sick and spit him out. That is so wonderful.”

  “That is horrible.” Disgust filled Eve’s voice.

  Eliza looked up to find her sister standing in the doorway. “Yes, it is repulsive, but it also shows what Jonah had to endure for not obeying God. Would you like to stay for the story, Eve?”

  “No thanks. I just stopped by to say good-night and that I’m heading over to Mrs. Miller’s.” Eve looked at her and offered a small smile. “We need to sit down and talk tomorrow morning, say, midmorning.”

  Eliza still didn’t know what her sister wanted from her. She guessed she’d find out tomorrow. “All right.”

  Eve smiled. “If you supply the tea, I’ll bring shortbread cookies.”

  An old-fashioned tea party. Whatever Eve planned on talking to her about must be serious. As little girls, when they wanted to have a serious talk, they’d ask the cook to make tea and shortbread cookies. “I’ll put the kettle on at ten.”

  “Good night, Eliza.” Eve started to turn away.

  Her heart went out to Eve. Could they go back to being real sisters? Before they became teenagers they’d been close. “’Night.”

  Peter’s young voice reminded them he was in the room. “Good night, Miss Eve.”

  Eve walked into the room. She knelt in front of Peter and cupped his face in her hands. “If Eliza is Ma, then I want to be Aunt Eve. Can you call me that?”

  His little face lit up. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She kissed his forehead and then said, “Good night, Peter.”

  Eliza noticed the tears in Eve’s eyes as she stood to leave.

  “Good night, Aunt Eve,” Peter said as she walked out the door.

  Eliza listened as her sister left the house. A glance out the window showed that it was dusky dark. Eve would be fine walking back to the Millers’ store.

  “Your sister is different, isn’t she?” Peter asked. He wiggled next to her and looked down at the Bible in her lap.

  “Yes, she is, but I love her.” Eliza knew the words were true. No matter what Eve might have done in the past, Eliza could forgive her because she loved her.

  Half an hour later, she had Peter tucked into bed and was sipping a hot cup of tea at the kitchen table. Her thoughts were in turmoil. Should she marry Jackson? Would that really stop the wagging tongues? Or would it make it worse?

  And then there was her business to consider. She’d been to the bank earlier in the day and been told that because she was single they couldn’t give her a small-business loan. But if she were to marry, then they would be happy to extend her the money.

  Eve came to mind as a possible source of financing, but Eliza quickly rejected that idea. She still didn’t know why Eve was here and she didn’t feel she could trust her. Earlier she’d realized she loved her sister, but that didn’t mean Eve could be trusted.

  She stood and rinsed out her cup. Over the past few days she’d gotten to know Jackson a little better but not much. Eliza knew he felt guilty for the gossip that was circulating about them. Did she want to marry a man because he felt guilty?

  But if she did marry him, the bank would give her the money she needed to start work on her store and home. After a year, Jackson would move to Silverton and she’d be free to carry on as before.

  That would be a great plan if they didn’t have Peter to consider. She wouldn’t want the little boy moving to Silverton. Would Jackson be willing to let him stay with her? And if he did, would Peter feel as if he’d been abandoned by another pa?

  Thoughts continued to swirl round and round in her tired brain. After a year Jackson planned to leave, would the town gossips start wagging their tongues again? If they had the marriage annulled, she’d be a divorcée. If they stayed married, would the gossips say he’d run out on her and little Peter?

  What was she going to do? Time passes quickly. A year would pass fast and then the Tuckers would be back. Without enough money, she could still be homeless. Even so, they wouldn’t want her to continue to live here. Opening the shop would supply her with a steady income, but if the wealthier women continued to ignore her business, she would not make enough to rebuild.

  Did she really want their business? She could move away. She’d mentioned the idea to Rebecca and Seth and they’d both said they’d rather see her stay. Seth had also pointed out that if she moved away, Peter would have to stay in Cottonwood Springs. Seth still held on to the thought that Peter’s father might yet return for him.

  Eliza knew she couldn’t leave Peter. He’d attached himself to her and Jackson. Jackson wasn’t sticking around, so she felt the responsibility of taking care of Peter. Besides, having Peter for a son would fill the void of not being able to have children of her own.

  Another sigh escaped her lips. What good would it do to move? She might be able to escape the gossips of this town, but she didn’t have enough money in the bank to move and restart her business. Besides, every town had gossips.

  Several hours later, Eliza stumbled into the bedroom and fell across the quilted mattress. She was no closer to having any answers than she’d been the night before and now her head hurt.

  Marrying Jackson seemed to be the only reasonable answer to her problem. Any woman would be happy to marry him, so why wasn’t she?

  * * *

  The next morning, Mr. Sayer stood on the porch. A large piece of wood leaned against the end of the steps. He tipped his hat and smiled. His top two
front teeth were missing and he spoke with a lisp. “Mrs. Kelly, I thought I’d deliver your sign myself this morning.” His gaze roved over her like he was looking at a new wagon.

  Eliza stood a little taller and tried to ignore the queasy feelings that were evoked by his look. “Thank you, Mr. Sayer. If it isn’t too much trouble, please take it over to the smithy. Mr. Jackson is going to burn the store name into it.”

  She turned to enter the house but his voice stopped her.

  “We haven’t discussed payment.”

  She frowned. “Of course we did. You agreed that I could pay you next month.” Her gaze ran over the fine scrollwork he’d done around the edges of the sign. He really was a talented man.

  “Well, I was thinking we could come to another arrangement.” Again he openly ran his gaze over her.

  A shiver crept up her spine and into her hair. Was this the way men thought about her now? Eliza shuddered at the thought. She opened her mouth to deliver a stinging put-down, then spied Jackson coming toward them.

  The set of his jaw as he approached assured her Jackson was coming to her rescue and she smiled. He was proving to be her personal protector, and Eliza realized she enjoyed the attention.

  * * *

  Jackson marched across the remainder of the front yard. What was wrong with the man? Propositioning a respectable lady like that? His boots stomped across the porch as red flashed before his eyes. With one easy lift, he removed Carl Sayer from the Tucker’s porch.

  He heard rather than saw Eliza gasp.

  He followed Mr. Sayer down the steps and helped the man up by lifting him by his shirtfront. Lowering his voice to a growl, Jackson announced, “From now on, Sayer, all your business arrangements with my fiancée will come through me. Understand?” He lowered Mr. Sayer to the ground but held on to him until he nodded.

  “N-next month will be fine, Mrs. Kelly.” Mr. Sayer nodded to Jackson and then hurried back toward the sawmill.

  Jackson walked back up the stairs. “I’m sorry about that, Eliza. That man just made me so angry, I’m afraid I let my temper get the best of me,” he apologized.

  She laid a soft hand on his arm. Warmth spread from her palm into his muscles. “Thank you.” Eliza looked up at him with brown eyes that reminded him of molten chocolate. He noticed the dark circles under them before she turned away and opened the front door. “Come on inside. Would you like to stay for breakfast? I’m afraid Peter and I are getting a slow start this morning.”

  “I’d love some breakfast and I really think you and I need to discuss what happened back there.”

  She sighed. “I agree.”

  Peter slid around the corner in his stocking feet. His little body slammed into Jackson’s legs. “Mornin’, Pa!”

  “Whoooa.” Jackson steadied the little boy’s shoulders. “Are you running in the house?” He held the little boy’s shoulders and looked into his eyes.

  Peter nodded. “Yes, sir. But Ma never said I couldn’t.” He raised his chin and looked Jackson square in the face.

  Eliza continued into the kitchen. Jackson watched her go and felt a moment of sorrow. She carried so much on her slender shoulders.

  He returned his focus to Peter. Jackson leaned forward and whispered, “Fair enough, but if I can talk your ma into marrying me, you’ll have to live by my rules and one of them is that we don’t run indoors.”

  A big smile broke out over Peter’s face. “You gonna ask Ma to marry you again?” he whispered back in a joyful voice.

  “Yep, I sure am. So after breakfast, why don’t you head on over to the smithy and start sweeping up?” He released the boy and stood.

  Eliza called from the kitchen, “Breakfast is ready.”

  “I won’t let on I know,” Peter whispered. He squared his little shoulders and walked to the kitchen with a bigger-than-life smile planted on his face.

  Jackson followed. Peter’s smile alone would give him away but he didn’t care. The moment he’d called Eliza his fiancée, it had felt right. He didn’t know what he was going to do in a year when he’d be leaving town.

  But he did know God would have to intervene for him to stay in this small community of gossips.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jackson took a deep breath as the front door slammed, announcing Peter’s departure for the smithy. He turned his attention to Eliza. She stood at the washbasin, scrubbing their plates. “Eliza, can I talk to you for just a few moments?”

  He’d noticed that over breakfast she’d yawned and been fairly silent throughout the meal.

  She twisted the water out of her washcloth and laid it on the edge of the dishpan. Eliza turned and looked at him. She kept her hands folded and hanging before her apron. “I know what you are going to say, Jackson, and you are right. We do need to get married.”

  Jackson didn’t know what to make of this statement. He’d thought he would have to convince her that it was a necessity for them to marry. He wanted to ask her a million questions about what had brought her to the same conclusion, but Eliza held her hand up to stop him from speaking.

  “Thanks to Mr. Sayer, I now have a good idea of what the men in this town think of me. It’s not safe or respectable and it’s no wonder the women have been gossiping about me. But if I marry you, Jackson Hart, it has to be a marriage of convenience. I can’t be the kind of wife that will keep you warm at night. But I will make sure that no one else knows what our marriage is really like. You will be treated as a true husband, just not in there.” Her brown eyes looked down the hall and she pointed a shaking finger in her bedroom’s direction.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him once again with her quick tongue. “You can move in here as soon as we stand before Reverend Griffin and say our vows. But even Peter can’t know it’s not a real marriage. He’s just a little boy and he might give us away. Then I’d be back in that awkward position I found myself in this morning.”

  A marriage of convenience to a mail-order bride. Jackson had never thought he’d be getting married at all. This woman was a smorgasbord of emotions. One moment she was confident and sure about what she was saying and the next she was shaking like a leaf on a cool autumn morning.

  She walked over to the table and sunk into one of the chairs. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t fair to you, but I don’t know what else to do.” A catch in her voice alerted him that she was close to tears.

  Jackson reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Now see here, Eliza Kelly. I’m the one who suggested marriage. Don’t you be feeling bad for me. We’ll make this work, you’ll see.”

  Tear-filled eyes stared back at him. She cleared her throat before asking, “Are you sure? I mean, if you have changed your mind, I’ll understand.”

  Jackson dropped down on one knee. He gently reached up and brushed the hair from over her eyes. Eyes that shone with unshed tears pulled at his soul like no other woman’s ever had. In a soft, husky voice he asked, “Eliza Kelly, will you marry me?”

  * * *

  Eliza felt a tear slip down her cheek. She should feel happy. Most women did when a man asked them to marry them, especially a handsome man with big strong shoulders and beautiful blue eyes. Any woman would be thrilled to hear those words cross his lips. But she wasn’t. He didn’t love her and she didn’t love him.

  “I will.” The words came from her mouth but not her heart.

  He leaned forward and gave her a light kiss on the lips. It was a simple touch, but something in her responded. Jackson leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

  The sweet scent of coffee and his sincerity washed over her. Eliza hugged him and giggled. “I should be thanking you.”

  Jackson pulled back just a bit. She saw the teasing in his eyes when he said, “Yes, you should, but I’ll settle for a simple wedding. If you can arran
ge that, it will be enough for me.”

  “Very simple,” Eliza agreed, looking into his blue eyes and wondering if she might lose her heart to this caring man after all. She found the cleft in his chin adorable and thought about reaching out to touch it.

  He stood. “Good. Then I better get to the smithy and tell Peter we are getting married.” Jackson’s boots made a clopping noise as he walked across the hardwood floors.

  Eliza missed him immediately. She got up to finish the dishes. A knock on the front door had her changing directions. As she passed the grandfather clock in the hallway she glanced at the time. A little after seven. Maybe this was her first customer of the day.

  When she got to the door, Eliza’s breath caught in her throat. A man’s shadow danced upon the floor of the living room. Don’t be a ninny, she scolded herself as she reached for the handle. Mr. Sayer wouldn’t dare show his face again so soon after Jackson’s warning. She opened the door.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Kelly.” Josiah Miller stood in front of her with a smile on his face. “Ma asked me to come over and see if you got her note yesterday.”

  Her note? Eliza stared at him for several long moments. For the life of her Eliza didn’t remember receiving a note from Mary Miller.

  “She said she gave it to Miss Eve to give to you,” he explained.

  “Oh, that note. I’d completely forgotten about it, Josiah. Tell your mother I’m sorry. Do I need to read it now and give you an answer?”

  The boy shrugged and scraped the toe of his boot across the wooden planks. “I don’t rightly know, but Ma probably wouldn’t have sent me if she didn’t want an answer right away.” He continued to stare at the porch floor.

  “You’re right. Let me go get it and I’ll see what it says. Would you like to come inside?” She held the door open for him.

  “No, thanks. I’ll just soak up some of this sunshine while I have the chance.” Dimples dotted his cheeks as he grinned at her.