"Two weeks?" Cora groaned. She wasn't exactly fond of the idea of making the long trip back to Boston so quickly after arriving, but neither did she wish to stay in the same town as Matthew.
"Unfortunately, that is the best we can do." Ivan looked apologetic.
"Thank you for your offer," Cora said. "It looks like I might have to take you and your wife up on it."
Ivan smiled at her. "Oh good, my wife will love the company. I will take you to her right away. Where are your bags?" he asked.
"At the saloon, I think. The coachman said he would drop them off."
"Well, don't worry dear. I will track them down," he said confidently. "And I am very sorry that no one was here to greet you upon your arrival, it seems that the letter with your acceptance was in the same coach that brought you here."
Ivan directed Cora down the street and toward the little store that he and his wife owned. He chatted aimlessly about the history of the town, all while avoiding any topic that might involve Matthew Carmichael. Cora was grateful.
As he opened the door a pretty, slightly plump woman stood to great them. "Who have you brought with you?" she asked Ivan curiously.
"This is Mr. Carmi —" he broke off suddenly as he realized of whom he was about to speak. "This is Ms. Constance Morgan," he amended. "She had made the trip all the way from Boston and needs a place to stay before she can return in two weeks," he explained.
Picking up on something in her husband's expression, Mrs. Johnson didn't push the subject, and greeted Cora with a big smile. "Welcome dear! How about I show you to the guest bedroom and we can get you all set up," she motioned for Cora to follow her.
Cora nodded, she felt safe and comfortable in Johnsons' care. It was only now that she realized just how exhausted she was. Today had been full of disappointments.
Chapter Six:
Matthew felt like a cad. Constance — no, he remembered, she goes by Cora — Morgan was the last person he would have thought would reply to his ad for a bride. Despite his surprise, he knew she did not deserve the poor treatment he had given her.
He had sobered up pretty quickly once he realized who she was and why she was here.
She must hate him, he thought. He needed to go and explain to her what had happened — the whole mail-order bride scheme — and why she couldn't be his bride. It wasn't that she wasn't desirable — when he had first seen her walk in, he had been mesmerized by the beautiful, elegant, bright eyed woman that had strolled into the saloon — but that there was no way he could tell his mother he was married to a Morgan girl.
Ivan had told him she was staying with him and his wife in the interim, so he figured he could start by first making a formal apology.
He made his way over to Ivan's store, but the moment he walked in he could feel the scowl from Miriam, Ivan's wife.
"How dare you show your face here," she scolded him. "That poor girl made the long trip all the way here for you, and you couldn't even give her the welcome she deserved." She spat in disgust.
"Miriam, let me explain," he started.
Miriam cut him off. "It is not me that you should be doing the explaining to," she scowled, which was rare for the usually cheerful Mrs. Johnson.
"Where is she?" he asked cautiously.
"In her room," she sniffed.
"May I talk to her?" he inquired.
"I will ask," she said hotly. She quickly turned on her heels and left him alone in the store.
Matthew waited.
Miriam returned shortly. "She does not wish to speak with you at the moment, Mr. Carmichael."
"When may I talk to her?" he asked.
"Well," Miriam thought for a moment, "she said something about 'never,' but I'm sure she will eventually wish to speak with you before she goes home on the next coach."
"She is going home?" Matthew groaned. He felt awful that it had come to this. "Thank you for your time, Miriam" he said politely.
Miriam turned up her nose and gave a little snort of disdain.
Matthew turned to leave, but as he did so, he noticed Miriam had momentarily been distracted by something behind the desk. Matthew figured this was his only opportunity. He whirled around and sped past the shocked Mrs. Johnson and up the back stairs to the rooms above the store.
"Ms. Morgan?" he called out but got no reply.
He approached the first closed door. He could hear Miriam coming up the stairs after him; he didn't have much time. He quickly pushed open the door.
"Cora?" he called. He used the childhood name she went by; he didn't know how he had remembered it after all these years. He had always been intrigued by the spunky Morgan sisters and had sorely missed their presence when their families had parted ways.
"Matthew!?" Cora gasped. She was standing in the center of the room in her undergarments; she clutched a blanket to her chest for modesty. A shocked expression played out on her delicate features.
"Oh!" Matthew stopped short and froze, a mixture of embarrassment and surprise spread across his face. Cora was wearing only a flimsy blouse and ankle length bloomers. He could make out her delicate curves through the thin, white fabric and he blushed in response.
"Matthew," Cora prodded. "How about you close the door," she suggested.
"Right," he said, flustered. He came closer and moved to shut the door behind them.
"Matthew!" Cora exclaimed. "With you on the outside!"
She giggled as Matthew felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. What was he thinking? He had almost destroyed propriety by closing the door behind him with both of them inside.
"Um, right," he reached around for the door, opened it, and quickly left. He could hear Cora laughing from inside. As he shut the door behind him, Mrs. Johnson greeted him.
"Mr. Carmichael!" she exclaimed angrily. "Hurry away from there." She grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him away and down the stairs. "It isn't decent," she scolded. It was obvious that in the hour she had known Cora, she had already grown fiercely protective of her.
Matthew remained silent, too embarrassed to try and defend himself.
Chapter Seven:
Cora descended the stairs. Miriam had said she had told Matthew to go away, but he had insisted on waiting for her. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready to speak to him, but after the incident where he had walked in on her half-dressed, she no longer felt so intimidated by him. He had looked so embarrassed by his mistake. She giggled as she remembered how flustered he had become at the sight of her in her undergarments.
"Cora, dear?" Miriam stopped her at the foot of the stairs. "You don't have to do this. I can tell him to go away."
Cora smiled at her protective new friend. "Don't worry Miriam, I can handle this," she said.
"Well, I will be right here if you need me," she insisted.
"That won't be necessary. I think it would be best if we talked in private." Cora wasn't sure she was ready to actually speak to Matthew. She had dreamed of this moment for what seemed like a small eternity, yet once she had that opportunity, she didn't feel half as excited as she had imagined she would be.
"Whatever you wish," Miriam said with genuine kindness.
Cora felt fortified enough to approach Matthew now. She knew that whatever happened, Miriam would be there to defend her. She had already made up her mind on returning home, so she really had nothing left to lose.
"I'll show you into the office. You won't be disturbed there," Miriam explained.
She guided Cora to a small but tidy office space in the back of the store. She left her there while she went and retrieved Matthew. Cora could feel her insides turn and twist with the anticipation of being alone with Matthew Carmichael. She wrung her hands nervously as she waited.
She looked up the moment she sensed him walk through the door. He looked tired and wore the expression of a man that was dreading the conversation to come. She watched him intently as he closed the door behind him. Matthew took a seat across from her and she hesitantly raised her eye
s to meet his.
"Cora," he said in a strained, husky voice.
"Yes?" she said softly.
"Where do I even begin?" He ran his fingers absently through his thick, light brown hair as he spoke.
"Well, you could start with telling me if you were the one who placed the ad for the mail-order bride," she offered. She gave him a light smile.
He caught the gesture and his eyes softened and his body relaxed. "Yes, it was me," he verified.
"Ok," Cora mused. "Then why did you change your mind the moment you saw that it was me?" She held her breath, afraid she might not like the answer.
"It wasn't you Cora," he sighed heavily.
He leaned forward and took her hands into his. Cora jumped the moment their skin touched. She wished she didn't like the feeling of his rough, large hands holding hers. She knew that this whole thing would be easier if she hadn't spent the last eleven years of her life fantasizing about the man before her.
"Then what was it?" she pressed for more information.
He let out a guttural groan. "It's my mother."
"Your what?!" Cora suddenly pulled her hands back from his warm, comforting hold. "You don't like me because of your mother?" She could hear her voice rising, but she didn't care if the whole town heard her. "Your mother is back in Boston!"
Matthew rose with her. "Not exactly," he ran his fingers through his hair, again. "It seems that I told a little lie about being married, and now, well," he started and stopped again. "Well it turns out she has decided to pay me a visit. So I put an ad out for a bride so I could impress her," he explained in a rush.
"Wait," Cora hesitated. "Are you saying that you put out an ad for some girl to travel thousands of miles just to pretend to be your bride while your mother visited?" She was practically fuming at this point.
"Yes, wait I mean no?" He shook his head as he heard the lunacy in his own scheme. "I didn't mean it like that, but yes I did. I'm sorry," he added desperately.
"Well then, since I am already here, I might as well help you along with your scheme," she said with a sigh.
"That's just it, you can't," he interjected.
Cora's eyes blazed red. "What do you mean I can't? I can do anything I put my mind to. I came all the way out here, didn't I?"
"No. I mean, because you're a Morgan and our parents don't get a long," Matthew said.
Cora rolled her eyes at Matthew. "So you are telling me that you, a grown man, are still so afraid of your mother that you can't determine for yourself who you will marry?"
As she opened the door, Miriam and Ivan, who had been pressing their ears up against the door in an effort to hear the conversation, stumbled in.
"Miriam!" Cora announced as she tossed a smug look over her shoulder at Matthew. "I never want to see Mr. Carmichael again."
"Cora?" he began.
"Never!" she interrupted. She interlaced her arm with Miriam's and they proceeded to walk away from the two gaping men.
Chapter Eight:
Matthew was stunned by the turn of events. Forget his mother's impending arrival, he would tell her he lived in a pigpen for all he cared at the moment.
Instead, all his thoughts were focused on Cora. He felt horrible that he had been the catalyst that caused her to uproot her life for the fake promise of a new one. Ivan had suggested he could easily find her a new husband, but the thought of that made Matthew's blood curdle. He already felt fiercely protective of her, despite the fact that he was the one who had dashed her hopes.
When Cora had called him out on his ridiculous scheme, a part of him had admired her gumption. She had made a long and arduous journey to meet him, and when he failed to deliver on the promise, she had the bravery to call him out on it. She was strong, resilient, and had a mind of her own, which he liked.
He also liked the way her full lips curved into a half-smile when she giggled; the way her blue eyes flared wide and fierce when she was angry, the melodious way she said his name and how it sent shivers down his spine. He thought she was stunning. And even though he was a confirmed bachelor, he didn't want to give her up to some man who just wanted a wife to cook him three meals a day and would never be able to appreciate her beauty and subtle quirks.
He smiled as he thought of how she had boldly declared she never wished to see him again. Not if I have my way, he thought to himself.
He knew he should be focusing on his new job as ranch manager, but he couldn't help but think of how he might impress Cora and, hopefully, win her forgiveness.
Over the next week, he stopped by the Johnsons' store every day to inquire after Cora. Each time Miriam turned him away telling him to go stick his head in a hole. With every visit, he brought her something new. At first it was flowers, then a pie, then a kitten from a local litter. With each gift he left her, he added a note asking for her forgiveness. He had yet to hear her reply. Despite her lack of acknowledgement, he continued to be persistent in hopes of winning her over.
He neither heard nor saw anything of the elusive Cora for almost two weeks, until he saw her walking down the street on the ninth day.
He was astride one of the horses from the ranch, and upon seeing the vision that was her golden blonde curls, he kicked his horse into a gallop.
"Cora," called her name as he leapt down from the magnificent beast.
Cora shot him a surprised look, but upon seeing that it was Matthew, replaced it with a scowl. "Go away Matthew," she said forcefully.
"Look, Cora, I'm so sorry." He came up to her and as he did, he noticed a small bundle of fur in her arms — the kitten he had brought her a few days earlier. So she had been accepting his gifts. He was pleased.
Cora stood her ground, eyeing him and his horse suspiciously.
Matthew saw the trepidation in her eye. "Have you ever ridden a horse before?" he asked.
Cora shook her head and clutched her kitten closer. "No I haven't, but that's beside the point." She waved her free hand at him in a shooing motion, "I would appreciate it if you didn't talk to me and would stop delivering those ridiculous gifts."
Matthew raised an eyebrow as his gaze fell on the kitten in her arms. "All the gifts?" he asked teasingly.
"Well," Cora hesitated. She looked down at the soft calico kitten asleep in her arms. "Perhaps not all," she said reluctantly.
Matthew could see the hint of a smile curl the edges of her lips. He decided to go for it while he had the chance. "One of the mares recently had her foal, would you like to see it?" he figured he had a good shot of getting her to follow him if he tempted her with baby animals.
"Well..." Cora said.
Matthew could see she was struggling with her decision. He knew the moment he had won.
"But I am only coming to see the foal," she insisted. "After I have seen it, I want you to return me back to the store," she emphasized.
"Yes ma'am," he said with a little bow. He swung himself back on to the horse and offered his hand to assist her. "Climb aboard," he said teasingly.
"What about Bartholomew?" she motioned to the kitten in her arms.
"Here, hand him up." He took the kitten and placed him securely in his front shirt pocket. "Now you," he added.
With only a momentary hesitation, she grasped his hand and allowed him to help pull her up behind him on the horse.
Matthew liked the sensation of having her behind him; the way she wrapped her delicate arms around his waist. He was glad they had a ways to go until they made it back to the ranch.
"Hold on," he told her as he clicked his tongue and spurred the horse into a gallop.
He heard Cora gasp behind him, and as they took off, her arms gripped him tighter.
"How are you liking it?" he asked after they had ridden for a few minutes.
"It's," she paused as if searching for the right word, "incredible." Her voice teased a smile.
"I'm glad," he laughed joyfully.
"Can this thing go faster?" she asked wildly.
"For you, of course," he
pushed the horse faster. Matthew could feel her grip loosen as she leaned back into the wind. Matthew wished he could look back and watch her as her loose curls whipped around her beautiful face. He imagined she looked carefree, happy, and peaceful. He didn't want to interrupt her moment.
"Incredible!" she shouted into the wind as she brought herself forward and tightly against Matthew's back. "The town looks so small," she shouted over the sound of the pounding hooves.
Matthew chuckled. "Just wait until we get to the ranch," he said with renewed excitement.
"Really?" she asked enthusiastically. "An actual ranch, with cattle and horses and —"
"Yes," he laughed.
"I've always wanted to see a real Texas ranch," she spoke. "I was afraid I would end up returning to Boston and never have had the opportunity," she confessed.
Matthew's stomach knotted at the mentioning of her impending return. He knew it was because of him that she had no reason to stay, but a part of him didn't want her to go. If only he could offer her something more.
No, he shook the thought from his head. He was a bartender at the local bit house and part-time manager for someone else's ranch. He had nothing and Cora deserved the world and then some.
Chapter Nine:
Cora squealed with delight as she spotted the foal hiding behind his mother. It appeared the little one was shy around strangers.
"Incredible," she said for what must have been the umpteenth time that day.
"I agree," Matthew murmured.
Cora turned to look at him, but he wasn't looking at the foal. He was watching her with a smoldering gaze, his mouth turned up in a satisfactory smirk. She blushed at his attention. "I was talking about the foal," she added shyly.
He brought his hand around to catch her by the waist in a swift motion. Cora gasped as he brought their bodies closer. "I wasn't," he said with heated intensity.
Cora wondered if he would kiss her; part of her hoped he would.
His grip tightened as his lips came forwards to meet hers and then stopped abruptly.
"Cora?" he spoke in a deep, husky voice.
Regency Romance: Fallen Duchess (A Historical Victorian Murder Mystery Love Regency Romance) Page 35
