Patchwork Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “Only because it is my faith.”

  Was that a hint of humor warming the chill from her voice? She’d relaxed a little, he realized, as she trailed a hand down the banister and hopped off the last stair. They had entered a great room divided by several different sets of clustered chairs. In the far corner young children gathered around a kindly but harried-looking woman who must have been in charge of the little ones. In the center of the room milled the middle-grade children. The final group in their teens looked up to study the stranger in their midst. He recognized many faces from the school yard and noted a few men who looked to be close to his age, about twenty.

  “This is Fiona’s fiancé, Ian McPherson.” Meredith gestured toward a tall, quiet-looking man with a friendly manner. “He’s fairly new to our group.”

  “Good to meet you, Ian.” He held out his hand.

  “Good to meet you. We’re a small group here, but a friendly one.” Ian’s grip was firm and there was something about him Shane immediately liked. The two of them might have been friends, if time in this town wasn’t so limited. “I hear you have taken over Eli’s old job.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work north of town at the lumber mill.” Ian drew a dark-haired young woman dressed in gingham to his side. The couple radiated happiness. An engagement ring glittered on her left hand.

  A middle-aged woman clapped her hands. “School is about to start. Come and take your places.”

  Where had Meredith gone?

  “Hi, Shane.” Narcissa Bell again sauntered by and batted her lashes.

  He could feel Meredith’s glare of daggers from six chairs away. Poor Meredith was not having a good day. He stepped around Narcissa, hoping to sit with his chosen girl, but her friends surrounded her, taking all the nearby chairs. He noticed the class was segregated by gender—girls on one side, boys on the other, so he joined Ian and Eli Sims. He settled in, greeting Eli, but his attention remained on Meredith.

  She didn’t look happy with him. Was she truly worried about that Narcissa girl? Didn’t she know that her honest, wholesome beauty was far superior? A strange ache settled deep in his chest, one of admiration and respect, he insisted stubbornly, because it could not be anything else. He could not allow it to be.

  As the Sunday-school teacher opened her Bible, all he could focus on was the way Meredith sat straight and proper, her attention devout on the open volume she held on her lap. Was it his fault he noticed the vulnerable curve of her nape, the lovely line of her slender shoulder and the soft angle her arm made as she bent over her Bible?

  Lord, what are You trying to tell me? He pondered that question, fighting gentler emotion he did not dare acknowledge.

  “‘Strength and honor are her clothing,’” the teacher read from Proverbs, “‘and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. Favor is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.’”

  Meredith remained in his sight and in his thoughts all morning long, as did his gentle feelings for her.

  The image of seeing Narcissa hanging from Shane’s arm burned like a coal-hot brand. It stung all the way to her soul. The scorching did not abate through the lesson or Sunday service. Meredith fidgeted on the hard pew, frustrated. She didn’t know what strange emotion was troubling her, but it burrowed into her and would not let go. It was an unwelcome agony and she did not like it. This is what came from dealing with men, she decided. It was a good thing she had set her sights on teaching instead of settling for the first guy who would propose to her. If she got this agitated over a man she hardly liked, think of what it would be like when she did like one?

  She was starting to rethink her views on romance. Maybe being a spinster wasn’t such a bad idea.

  “Meredith! What’s wrong with you?” Mama hissed. “Stand up.”

  Right. The final prayer. She bobbed out of the pew, the last to stand. But were her thoughts contemplative on this morning of worship?

  Not a chance. She wished her gaze would not slip from the reverend at the pulpit, across the rows to where Shane sat. He certainly looked fine in a black muslin shirt and matching trousers. She rarely saw him without his hat, and the thick tumble of his dark hair became fascinating and so did the cowlick at the back of his head.

  Stop looking at him, she told herself. If she kept gaping at him, then people would mistakenly start to think that she liked him. She clasped her hands and bowed her head, determined to let only holy thoughts into her brain.

  “Let us pray,” Reverend Hadly began. “Heavenly Father, we ask for Your loving guidance. As we go through our busy and demanding week, please help us to remember to put on a mantle of kindness.”

  Only holy thoughts, she reminded herself. But one broke through, and it wasn’t faith-centered. Shane drew nearer. She sensed him like the ripple of a breeze from the windows. Her eyes opened; she could not stop them. He padded soundlessly down the aisle, his wool coat clutched in hand and his Bible tucked into one of the pockets. He honestly was the most dashing man in the church, perhaps in the entire town. Maybe it was his classic good looks and his high cheekbones that made him irresistible. She rather thought it was his square jaw hinting at his good character that made it impossible to look away.

  This was not fair. Caring about him was not her fault. She was helpless to stop it. A girl did not have a chance around him. She had tried her best to dislike him and if she could not do it, then no one could.

  “Meredith!” Mama hissed again, nudging her arm.

  She snapped her eyes shut, but did the awareness of him end?

  Not a chance. She felt the touch of his gaze against her cheek as he came closer. His shoes whispered on the floorboards and the air around her shivered from his movements.

  Just ignore him, she told herself. Could she help it if the hair on her arms prickled as he passed? Perhaps it was a gust of wind blowing through the church and no possible reaction to him.

  Mama’s elbow bumped her sternly, more serious this time. Clearly her mother did not understand the consequences of being around a man like Shane. She sighed, forced her attention to the front and gave thanks that Shane was safely out of the church. She knew because her mind could focus on the last of the prayer.

  “As You have drawn us with loving kindness, help us to remember to see You in all we meet,” Reverend Hadly implored. “Amen.”

  A chorus of “Amens” rang out. The service was almost at an end.

  This was like torture. Meredith opened her eyes, feeling a little light-headed from her ordeal. Rustles echoed through the sanctuary as heads were raised, hands reached for hymnals and Mrs. Tilney at the organ began the first strains of “Amazing Grace.” Voices lifted with the melody, but all Meredith could think about was Shane out in the rain.

  “Meredith, I’ve decided to get a new beau.” Narcissa leaned across the aisle, not even bothering to sing. “Shane is so handsome. You can have Lorenzo if you want.”

  “I don’t want either of them.” It felt as if she were telling a lie, and she wasn’t. She didn’t want a beau. She certainly did not want Shane. She wanted to be an independent woman in complete control of her heart and her life. “Go ahead and set your cap for him. I don’t care.”

  “I’ll have him wrapped around my little finger in no time. Just you wait and see.” Narcissa’s nose went up in the air. Her face crinkled unpleasantly as she gave a disparaging grimace. “There’s a reason some girls can’t catch themselves a beau.”

  What she needed at this exact moment was the perfect comeback. Just this one time to really put Narcissa in her place. But could she think of a single word?

  No. Meredith bit her bottom lip. Her feelings simmered and yet her mind was as blank as a clean slate. Completely frustrating. Especially because she’d had no trouble doing the same to Shane the other day.

  “Meredith!” Mama nudged her with her elbow, leveled her with a warning loo
k and returned to singing the final chorus with great zest.

  “…was blind,” Meredith joined in, but she couldn’t properly concentrate on the song. Narcissa’s smugness kept floating across the aisle to her like a foul odor. Finally, the hymn was done and the service ended.

  “I don’t know what’s come over you, young lady,” Mama huffed, shaking her head severely. “You are in church.”

  “Yes, I realize that.” She doubted her mother would ever understand. She felt miserable, and not because Narcissa had declared her intentions for Shane—surely that could not be it.

  A hand settled on her shoulder, and there was no need for words. Meredith turned around and smiled at Lila, who was with her family.

  “Are you all right?” Lila whispered.

  A single nod was all she dared, with Mama listening in. Lila’s face wreathed with empathy. No doubt she had overheard Narcissa’s whispers across the aisle and was offering unspoken comfort. There was nothing like best friends. Lila’s kindness and solidarity was the perfect antidote to Narcissa’s declaration.

  Rustles and voices filled the sanctuary. Worshippers began filing into the aisle, ready to head home. Meredith gathered her Bible and her wraps. She waited until Mama was occupied with Minnie and slipped into the aisle.

  “Some people have all the nerve.” Fiona fell in beside her. “I heard what she said. Do you really think she’s going after Shane?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me.” There was that feeling again, that she was telling a fib. It was the truth—Shane’s love life was none of her business. She didn’t want him. Correction. She didn’t want to want him.

  “You would think Narcissa would be happy trying to torture us all with how close she is to Lorenzo.” Lila slipped into stride with them. “Lorenzo has never beaued her anywhere. Not even to church.”

  “You would notice,” Kate added, peeling away from her family to join them. “How long have you had a crush on Lorenzo?”

  “Since I was seven. It’s a romance that is never meant to be.” Lila shrugged.

  “Meredith,” Scarlet stepped in to say, “you know Narcissa’s interested in your driver guy only because she thinks you are.”

  “Then maybe I should pretend to like Luken so she would throw herself at him and leave poor Shane alone.” An extreme plan at the very least, but it sounded very tempting.

  “If I were writing the story,” Earlee began as she squeezed into line with them, “Narcissa would be the villain who would try to steal the hero away from the heroine, but she would get her just reward in the end.”

  “What reward?” Scarlet wanted to know.

  “Well, that’s the fun about being a writer.” When Earlee smiled, the whole world brightened. “She could trip, roll down a muddy hillside and land in very thorny brambles. But I would hate to do physical harm.”

  “It’s not terribly Christian,” Kate admitted, gesturing around at the stained-glass windows and the crucifix on the wall.

  “No physical pain, then.” Lila paused, considering. “Maybe the hero could see her for what she truly was, turn his back to her and marry the heroine.”

  “You aren’t saying I’m the heroine, right?” Meredith interjected.

  “It’s a story,” Earlee assured her.

  “Based on actual events,” Lila went on to say. “I think you should have the mean things she does come back around to her.”

  “Great idea.” Earlee nodded. “And the hero and heroine live happily ever after.”

  “I don’t believe in fairy tales.” Meredith broke through the doorway and lifted her face to the sky. A fine gray mist drizzled from leaden clouds, but May’s touch was in the greening trees, the spears of daffodils poking up in the border beds and the robins taking flight from the lawn.

  The promise of summer was everywhere. And Shane was waiting for her, watching for her, and lifted his hand. Too bad he looked exactly like her idea of a perfect hero. They were a fairy tale that could never be.

  Chapter Ten

  Shane closed the gelding’s stall gate, taking time to double-check the latch. The big Arabian nickered, poking his nose over the half door to make sure there was no grain to be found in Shane’s hand.

  “Sorry, buddy. You already had your share.” He rubbed the animal’s nose, laughing as the velvet lips nibbled at his gloves, which very well might have smelled of grain. “I’ll be back with your supper later, big guy.”

  The gelding shook his head, as if he understood perfectly, and nickered to his next-door neighbor, as if to start a horsey discussion. Shane grabbed the empty bucket and damp towels, the curry comb and the hoof pick and headed down the aisle.

  “Shane?” Her voice welcomed him, as refreshing as first dawn’s touch on a waiting world. She’d changed out of her Sunday best into a simple cotton dress, adorned with dainty touches of lace and silk. She carried a small basket in hand. “I know you are supposed to fend for yourself on Sundays, but since you drove us to church because Papa was busy, we ought to at least provide you with lunch.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” His stomach rumbled in agreement as he shouldered open the tack-room door to lay down his load. “That fried chicken smells mighty tasty.”

  “I made it myself, because Cook has the day off.”

  “You cook?” He poked his head around the door.

  “Don’t look so surprised.” Her laughter rang like the sweetest music. “Cook taught Tilly and me. Things are different in Montana Territory than St. Louis.”

  “That’s where you’re from?”

  “Yes. Both Matilda and I are not looking for the socially advantageous marriage our parents think we should have.” She untied her hood and shoved it out of the way, revealing her rosy cheeks and sparkling spirit. “Mama is stubbornly holding on to hope, but society seems less important here. Maybe because there are so few families who are rich.”

  “Is that why you have the friends you do?” He thought he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips, to see the measure of her not just to know it.

  “You mean because I had no other choice, so I settled for whoever I could find in this small town?” She looked at him as if he were an idiot. “Really. That’s what you think of me?”

  “I’ve sat in the front seat of the buggy driving you around. I think I have a notion of who you are.” He was close enough to brush one of the many stray curls out of her eyes, of her endless blue eyes a man could fall right into and become lost forever.

  “Then you know I love my friends as if they were my own family.” She held out the basket to him, blindly, as her gaze was held by his and she was helpless to look away. Maybe she did not want to. “When I moved to this town, my circle of friends welcomed me without question. I remember standing in the basement of the church, feeling unsure and surrounded by strangers. Mrs. Hadly had split up my sisters by age group, and this girl with red hair patted the empty seat beside her and smiled at me. After class Scarlet introduced me to the rest of the gang and when I started school the next day, they greeted me like old friends.”

  “They welcomed you without question.” He tucked the basket in one arm, riveted by her, unblinking. The way his gaze remained locked on hers felt as if a deeper bond, a greater connection was forged. “I’ve known that feeling before.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “Unconditional acceptance and love. The best kind of friendship there is.” His stomach rumbled again, breaking the moment. He looked away, as if a hint embarrassed. “I’m obviously starving. Would you want to stay with me while I eat? I’d offer to share, but I’m sure you already ate your dinner. We could keep talking.”

  “I would like that.” She glanced around and spied the ladder ascending to the loft. “How about the haymow?”

  “My favorite place.”

  “Mine, too.” Rain tapped lightly on the roof, serenading her as she seized both sides of the ladder and hiked her foot onto the bottom rung. “That’s another blessing living
in Montana. There are so many opportunities to do different things. Back in the city, we had a small stable for our carriage horses, but that was all. Here we have barns and horses and land to roam.”

  “And your mother allows this?”

  “There are so many of us, Mama can’t keep us all in check at the same time.” She hoisted herself up to the next rung, carefully moving her hands one at a time. “You’ll see when my other sisters come home from boarding school. It’s a madhouse when we’re all together.”

  “If I’m still here, that is.” He waited patiently on the ground below, with his back turned to her. He seemed smaller from so high up, but not diminished. “Braden says we’re making fast progress with the horses’ training.”

  “Yes, I suppose you always have to keep on eye on your next job.” Sadness hitched in her throat. Odd, because of course she knew he wouldn’t be staying in Angel Falls. She raised her foot onto the next narrow rung and pulled her weight over the lip of the loft and onto the hay-strewn boards. “I’m up. You can look now. Next time I’ll borrow a pair of trousers.”

  “I can’t imagine what your mother would think of that.”

  “She would have an apoplexy for sure. Although Kate wears her brother’s trousers when she rides her horse, and Earlee does the same when she helps with the barn work.” My, but he could climb quickly. She backed up as he hopped onto the mow, basket and all. She wandered around, looking for the best place to sit. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Mine?” His forehead furrowed as he carried the basket, hay crackling beneath his boots.

  “Your turn to talk.” There was already a horse blanket spread on the hay. She watched as he set the basket down on a corner of it.

  Light spilled through the cracks in the wall boards and the spaces between the walls and the eaves. This close to the roof, the rain whispered and sluiced with the cadence of a sonnet, rising and falling in the most pleasant way. She spied a small writing desk on the corner of the blanket. This must be Shane’s own hideaway place, where he spends his spare time. Curious.