RNWMP: Bride for Preston (Mail Order Mounties Book 6)

by Kay P. Dawson

  "She's here. I left her at the room above the store where we are staying. She was afraid you and I might come to blows when I showed up unannounced again and she didn't want any part of it she said."

  Rolling his eyes slightly, Preston stepped back to finally let his father inside. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Somehow I knew you’d both be showing up on my doorstep. I just didn't think it would be quite this soon." He'd honestly hoped he could have had the time to get to know Maryanne more, and let her know about his mixed blood on his own time. Truthfully, he'd thought perhaps if she'd grown to care for him enough, it wouldn't matter to her.

  But his father stayed on the other side of the door. He smiled down at Maryanne. "No, I'm not coming in. I just wanted to let you know we were in Moose Lick. I'd say you and your wife will need some time alone before I bring your mother by in the morning to meet her."

  Shame washed over him as he realized how it had to make his father feel knowing he'd hidden his Indian blood from his new wife. Preston knew he'd been hurt knowing his son hadn't told Lizzy the truth all those months ago, and then been even more upset after seeing how she'd reacted.

  Swallowing hard, he nodded at his father. "I'll see you both in the morning."

  His father met his eyes and Preston saw the strength of the man looking back at him. He'd always wished he could be as strong as his father, but he'd always fallen short.

  And now, knowing he'd managed to hurt him as well as his wife, he felt like the weakest man alive.

  Chapter 12

  "Why didn't you just tell me the truth? I've never kept anything from you. I've told you things about my sister's accident I've never told anyone."

  Preston clenched his teeth together as he looked past Maryanne where she sat at the table. The new coat she'd been so happy to receive only moments ago now hung on the hook, forgotten within the hurt he could see in her eyes. Thrusting his fingers through his thick hair, he tried to come up with the words to explain.

  "It's not that simple, Maryanne. I'm not ashamed of my Indian blood, it's just that it's easier sometimes to keep it to myself. All my life, I've been the part-Indian boy who didn't quite fit in with the other boys in my tribe, and the part-white boy who would never fit in there either. My mother's family disowned her and never acknowledged me. My father's family were kind to me, but I know I was never completely accepted by them."

  He waited for her to shout, to say how she couldn't remain married to a man with Indian blood. Anything. But she was just sitting across the table looking at him in confusion, not saying a word.

  "I was going to tell you, but I just didn't think it mattered." He knew that wasn't entirely the truth. Looking down at his hands as they clenched together on the table, he wished he'd just told her from the beginning. At least then, he wouldn't have started to care for her, knowing how hard it would be when she looked at him with loathing in her eyes like he'd seen in Lizzy's.

  "It doesn't matter to me, Preston. But it's a part of who you are, so you should have told me."

  He whipped his eyes up to hers.

  "I'm your wife, so we need to be able to trust each other and learn to be open about everything. I know we haven't known each other long, but I'd hope that we could share our lives together without any secrets. Your Indian blood is something you should be proud of, not something you should be hiding from anyone."

  He didn't know what to say.

  "It just became easier to not mention it. When you spend your life not knowing where you truly fit in, and seeing the scorn and even fear in people's eyes when they learn about my Indian blood…" His voice trailed off as he remembered the times he'd seen the white mothers pull their kids away from him when he'd try to play with their children. And how the Indian boys would tease him and tell him he wouldn't be able to fight or hunt like them.

  He'd managed to block those memories from his mind, but now as he sat across from Maryanne, with her eyes watching him with no fear or distaste, he found himself wanting to tell her everything. He stood and walked over to her chair, crouching down beside her and taking her hand in his.

  "You're one of the only people who hasn't looked at me with judgment when finding out the truth. I don't know what I did to deserve you for a wife, but I guess I need to track down that crazy old woman who sent you to me and thank her."

  "I sometimes think Miss Hazel isn't really as crazy as everyone believes. I think maybe she's much smarter than we know." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

  She was right, they were married and if they wanted to have a life together, they couldn't have any more secrets. He wanted to tell her about Lizzy, but before he could, she stood up, pulling her up with her. She put her arms around his shoulders and reached up to tenderly place her lips on his.

  He was lost.

  He promised himself he'd tell her soon.

  "Well, I don't want his money."

  Maryanne stood by the stove listening to Preston's parents speaking to him at the table. They'd told him that his grandfather had passed away, leaving him as the sole heir.

  She walked over and set the bacon on the table, then went to stand by Preston. "I know you say he never acknowledged you, Preston, but surely he must have had some affection for you to have left you everything in his will. What harm would it do to you to let him give you this gift? I'm sure he couldn't have had enough money to make it worth such a fuss."

  Daniel raised his eyebrow toward his son again. "Did you not mention to Maryanne how rich your grandfather was?"

  Preston shook his head and sat back in his chair. "It doesn't matter, so no, I never thought it needed mentioning." He looked at Maryanne. "My grandfather was one of the wealthiest businessmen in Vancouver. He was one of the first investors in some of the gold mines up near Dawson City. Before everyone else even flocked up to the Yukon to find their riches, he was already well established. But while he might have had a lot of money, he was lacking in many other areas of his life. He might have believed giving me all his money would make up for him not wanting his daughter or his grandson in his life, but it's too late for that."

  "Preston, you know how hard it was for me all these years, knowing my father had disowned me. I never cared about the money or being cut from his inheritance. All I ever wanted was for him to approve of my marriage to Daniel, and to accept you. It never happened while he was alive, but he was still my father. I would like to believe maybe deep down, he wanted to make amends. I think he was still a good man, he just couldn't accept what I'd done. If he'd ever met you, I know he would have loved you."

  Rosaline Hawking was a stunning woman, with hair the color of honey and the brightest blue eyes Maryanne had ever seen. As she spoke to her son, she reached out and took his hand in hers, and Maryanne could see she was fighting back tears. She couldn't imagine the heartbreak the woman had endured over the years, knowing her own father didn't want anything more to do with her or her son, all because of the blood that flowed through her husband's veins.

  No wonder Preston had struggled to find where he belonged.

  "He should have left it to you. I don't want it." Preston had his arms crossed in front of him as he shook his head. "Giving his money to me won't make anything right with me. You can have it."

  Daniel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him exactly like his son had. They stared each other down while Maryanne watched in awe at how much the men looked alike. And by the way they were sitting, she could see they were both just about as stubborn as the other too.

  "Preston, you know I never liked what Rosaline's father did to her. Because of my blood, he disowned the only family he had. But even if you don't want the money for yourself, you should take it. He owes you that much."

  Preston squinted at his father. "Would you?"

  The room fell silent as all eyes fell on Daniel Hawking. Preston's grandfather had hated him, and had hurt the woman he loved more than anything in the world.

  "I would. But not for me. I'd do
it for your mother." Maryanne hadn't expected to hear those words. She'd thought for sure Daniel would be the type to turn his back on the money.

  "Sometimes, you need to be the bigger man and not let your pride get in the way. Your mother only wanted one thing, and that was for her father to love you. He may not have had that chance while he was alive, but this is something he was willing to give once he was gone. I'd say you should think about your answer before throwing it all away."

  Maryanne still stood by the table, scared to interrupt. Preston turned his head to look at her. She could see the battle he was fighting inside, reflected in his eyes.

  He wanted to hope that his grandfather might have cared, even a small bit. But he also didn't want to take anything from the man who'd never wanted to know him while he'd been alive. Once again, she pictured that little boy who was struggling to see where he fitted in.

  She knew in that moment she didn't care what he decided. She was going to spend the rest of her life showing him he belonged with her.

  Chapter 13

  "I have another blanket to leave with you today, but I also wanted to have the chance to say thank you so much for the wonderful coat you made for me. It's going to keep me warm over the winter, and I know I've never held anything so beautiful in my life." Maryanne smiled at the women who were gathered around the clothesline hanging their laundry. Some of them couldn't speak English well, so Laurel had to help them to understand. She knew as soon as they started to nod and smile at her they knew what she'd said.

  "They say you are good woman for Mountie Preston. And they can see how much he loves you."

  Maryanne gasped when she heard what the women were telling Laurel to say to her. Shaking her head, she quickly interrupted, "No, we’re married, but we haven't known each other long. Ours wasn't a marriage out of love."

  Laurel looked her up and down and shook her head. "So you don't love your Mountie?"

  Her heart racing, Maryanne struggled to figure out what to say. "It's not that, it's just complicated. We were strangers when we married, and I'm not sure what Preston really wants."

  Her words sounded feeble even to her ears. Laurel was telling the other women, who all were staring at her like she'd suddenly grown a horn from her head.

  "But you do love him."

  Laurel said the words as a statement, not a question.

  Maryanne tried to think what to say as the words all raced in her head. Suddenly, she was speaking before she even knew what she was doing.

  "I think I do."

  Where had those words come from? She'd only known him a short time, and while she knew she cared for him, she was still unsure of what those feelings were. He'd never said anything about how he felt about her either, which made things even more complicated for her. What would happen if he could never return her feelings?

  "You don't sound like you believe it." The women were all listening to her intently, and Laurel would translate everything to those who couldn't understand.

  She held her arms tightly around the basket she carried, letting the warmth of her new coat wrap around her. She was thankful there was a bit of a wind today that could conceal the redness she knew would be in her cheeks.

  "I do. I'm just unsure how he feels. I'm not the kind of woman a man falls in love with. Especially not one like Preston."

  The women looked at her in confusion. She wasn't getting her words out right and they were all going to think she was unstable if she didn't explain herself better.

  "Preston is a very good-looking man. He has a great deal to offer a woman, and in truth could have likely had his choice of women to marry. I'm still not quite sure why he was willing to marry a complete stranger and not even care what she looked like or what kind of person she was. I'm not sure I would have been the kind of woman he'd have chosen if he'd met me first."

  She hadn't realized how much of her insecurity she was still holding onto. Preston had never given her any reason to think she wasn't good enough for him, but then again, he'd never really said anything to make her think otherwise either.

  Now she was embarrassed to have shared all of her worries with these women.

  One of the elder women came over and patted her on the arm, nodding her head happily. She said something to her that Maryanne couldn't understand. Looking to Laurel, she waited to hear what she'd said.

  "Nasnan says you don't give Mountie good enough chance. You're good woman. He knows."

  Maryanne appreciated the older woman's words, but she also knew that things were more complicated than the Indian woman could understand. Smiling, she said thank you to her and got ready to walk back to her cabin. The wind was picking up, so she pulled her jacket up around her chin and headed for Lisa's. She wanted to check in on her friend like she did most days, and see if she needed any help. Maryanne knew she'd been struggling with the cold weather affecting her.

  Noticing Preston standing outside the station talking to Wesley, she waved and smiled in his direction. Now that she'd said the words out loud to the Indian women, she blushed, knowing that she truly did love this man. Seeing him standing in his red serge jacket, holding the reins of his black horse, sent her heart racing. Maybe she could get the courage to tell him soon, and perhaps knowing she loved him, he could learn to love her too someday.

  But for now, just being with him and sharing the moments she did was enough. She couldn't remember when she had been this happy before.

  When he waved back, sending her a smile that curled her toes, she knew even if he couldn't love her, she could love him enough for both of them.

  "How long will you be gone?"

  He hated knowing he'd be leaving her here alone, especially when the weather was growing colder every day. But he also knew how strong she was. He'd watched her go over to Lisa's every day, checking to see what she could do for her friend. When Lisa was having a bad day, he knew Maryanne helped out, cooking meals or doing some cleaning. She never mentioned it to him, obviously just doing it because that was the kind of person she was, but Wesley had told him a few times how much Lisa appreciated the help.

  She was also busy crocheting blankets, along with Lisa, and taking them to the Indian women who needed them in the village. Every night after she'd cleaned up from their meal, and taken care of the chores around the house, she'd sit by the fire and work on the warm blankets. He'd had to make another rocking chair to set by the fire so he could sit across from her while she worked. Sometimes he would draw, telling Maryanne he was doing paperwork. He knew that if she was aware he was drawing her, she wouldn't sit naturally. He wanted to be able to draw her exactly how he saw her.

  "No more than a few days. My grandfather's lawyer is coming to Whitehorse to meet with me, so at least I won't have to go all the way down to Vancouver."

  He'd decided he would take the money his grandfather had left him, but he didn't plan to keep it all for himself. He had a few things in mind to do with it, including giving some to his mother. Preston still couldn't believe her father would be so heartless to cut her out entirely, but he figured if his grandfather was as stubborn as his mother had always talked about, it made sense. He wouldn't have wanted to go back on his word of cutting her from his will if she married Daniel Hawking, so he couldn't leave it to her. Maybe he hoped Preston would do the right thing and make sure she got some of the money.

  He was trying to give the old man the benefit of the doubt, as Maryanne had been telling him to do. But Preston figured her heart was maybe a little less jaded than his own.

  "Wesley has promised to check in on you and make sure you're taken care of. And he says you're welcome to come over any time and take your meals with them. He knows you've been helping out there a lot, so it would be his way of thanking you."

  She looked up from the blanket she was working on and smiled over at him. The flickering light of the fireplace beside her reflected off the whiteness of her skin. Her green eyes sparkled, and her hair hung down loosely around her shoulders, held back from
her face with small clips near her ears.

  "Lisa and I have already gotten our meals planned for the next few days, and we even plan to sit and crochet together each evening. Wesley might be wishing he hadn't made the offer. Especially since I'm sure he'll have to walk me back home after dark."

  "I'll be insisting he does that." Preston knew Wesley would take care of Maryanne, but it still didn't help to ease his worry about her. The nights here were long, with darkness working its way in by mid-afternoon now that it was the beginning of December. And she would be here all by herself. He'd thought about taking her with him, but he wouldn't be able to travel as fast with her and with the weather being so unpredictable up here, he didn't want to risk having her out in it.

  Seeing her sitting here by the fire, smiling at him as she worked, he wanted nothing more than to never have to leave the warmth of this cabin. He couldn't believe how much having Maryanne here had changed his life. He couldn't even picture what Lizzy looked like anymore, and he shuddered as he imagined what his life could have been if he'd ended up with her. She would have turned her nose up at the fur jacket made so lovingly by the Indian women of the village. Although now that he knew the kind of person Lizzy truly was, he had no doubt that she'd never have agreed to come live up here among the Indians anyway.

  And she certainly wouldn't have been content living in the small village, sitting around a fire crocheting blankets, with nothing else to do.

  What had he been thinking when he thought he loved Lizzy? She was never the kind of woman who would have made him happy. He'd have had to hide who he was for the rest of his life.

  She could never have been like Maryanne was.

  The thought struck him like a lightning bolt that he'd somehow moved past the pain Lizzy had caused him. And the part that shocked him the most, was that he'd somehow managed to fall in love with his wife.