Patchwork Bride

by Jillian Hart

  Nothing? Again?

  “Thank you anyway.” She pushed away, feeling the first drop of disappointment fall and another. She had been waiting and waiting for a letter. She had to accept the fact none was coming.

  It wasn’t as if she were in love with him, just a harmless crush. She set her chin, blindly retracing her steps to the door. She knew full well Finn McKaslin did not feel that way for her. So why did the sun dim as she stepped onto the boardwalk? Why did her disappointment feel more like sorrow?

  He’s all wrong for you, she told herself. He’s four years older, he’s in prison and even if he wasn’t, he would not be the kind of man your parents would ever approve of.

  But he had so much goodness in him. She hated the possibility that all his goodness might be lost. She’d hoped she could make a difference. It was her Christian duty.

  That was what she told herself. And it was all truth. But there was a deeper truth she could not hide from. She had secretly hoped he had been charmed by her letter and would fall in love with her. Foolish and unrealistic, she knew, but a tiny part of her had hoped anyway.

  She hated to think that Meredith felt this way, too, crushed and hurting. It was what happened when the fairy tale did not come true. With a sigh, she hiked the strap of her book bag higher on her shoulder and set off down the boardwalk. She had better get moving. She still had Ma’s medicine to fetch before heading home.

  Every plod of Sweetie’s hoofs on the road home reminded Meredith of the man who was missing. It wasn’t Shane who sat silent in the seat in front of her, guiding the horse home. It wasn’t Shane who drew to a halt in front of the house and held out his hand to help her down. The shadowed depths of the barn did not hide him from her sight. She could not listen for the pad of his step on the walkway or hope for a glimpse of him through the windows as she went about her afternoon. Not even the envelope she clutched in her hand could drag her thoughts from what she had lost.

  He was false, she reminded herself. He was not what he’d seemed. But none of that could diminish her grief.

  “I’m gonna see if Cook has any cookies to spare.” Minnie dropped her things with a plop on the entry table. “Want some?”

  “Not today, cutie.” She pushed the dark feelings down and set her things by the front door. “You go on.”

  “Molasses cookies are my new favorite.” Minnie bounced away, skirts flouncing, china knickknacks tinkling on their glass shelves as she skipped by.

  “Wilhelmina!” Mama’s voice traveled through the reaches of the house. “How many times do I have to tell you? A lady does not run around like a herd of stampeding cattle.”

  “I’m not running.” Minnie bounded through the dining room and out of sight. “I’m skipping.”

  Poor Mama, working so hard to make ladies out of them, but it was an uphill battle. Meredith eyed the path to the kitchen, where sanctuary awaited her along with a cup of milk and a plate of cookies, but she was a young woman and nearly a high-school graduate. She would behave as one. Clutching her contract, she went in search of her mother.

  “Meredith, do come in.” In the sun-filled library, Mama looked up from the pages of her book. “The ladies of the club chose Mark Twain for our next meeting, but he’s entirely too outrageous. Hardly proper at all. I don’t know what the world is coming to.”

  “It is a wonder,” Meredith quipped, slipping into the overstuffed chair opposite her mother. Sunlight poured through the windows and winked in the pond outside, where ducks gathered and quacked, pleased that the trainers had gone from the nearby corral. Did everything have to remind her of Shane? She briefly squeezed her eyes shut, praying to forget him.

  “Do you have a headache, my dear girl?” Mama slapped her book closed and dropped it with a thud onto an end table. “I’ll have Sadie made a compress and some soothing tea.”

  “I’m troubled, Mama. That is all.” No poultice was going to help with that. She toyed with the edge of the envelope, gathering her courage. “Mr. Olaff offered me a teaching position today.”

  “And I assume you did not turn him down on the spot?”

  “No, this is the employment contract.” She ignored the horror on her mother’s face and tried to see the concern there. At least Shane had been right about that. She was blessed to have parents who fought so hard to protect her. “I’m asking for your blessing, Mama.”

  “I simply cannot give it. A daughter of mine working? It’s nonsense. You have everything you need right here.” She drew herself up, a general in charge of the battle she had resolved to win. “I forbid it. What will Leticia Bell say? Or the Wolfs? Or the Davises? It is not seemly. A young lady does not hire herself out like a teamster’s horse for wages. I refuse to allow it.”

  “Mama, don’t you see? I need your approval.” She set the envelope aside and took her mother’s hand. “I’m no longer a little girl. I’m all grown up. You’ve done your job.”

  “It’s not done until you are suitably married, young lady.” Mama’s grip strengthened, holding on, her chin up, her tone nearly shrill, clinging so very tightly to what was past.

  Falling in love with Shane had changed her. She could see that now. She understood something she’d never been able to fathom in her mother’s overprotective, rigid ways. How very much Mama treasured being a mother, raising her little girls and all the happy times they’d shared. How hard it must be to let that go, as time demands by rolling forward, changing little girls to young women.

  “You need to allow me to do this, Mama.” She did not bother to hide the abiding affection she had and always would have for her mother. “It’s time to let me take the love and the lessons you have given me and make my own way. I promise you, wherever I go it will always lead me back to you.”

  “I do not think I can bear it.” Her mother’s lower lip trembled, a rare show of emotion. “You will stay right here where I can take care of you. I demand it.”

  “I promise to come home for Sunday dinner as often as I can.” Her vision blurred. Those pesky tears had returned. She blinked hard, but they fell anyway, one by one rolling down her cheek. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you, my precious Meredith.” A single tear betrayed her. “Whatever will I do without you? We will need to get you a sensible horse, one that will not shy at the slightest thing. Perhaps you should take my Miss Bradshaw, she is a very respectable mare. We shall have your father order you your own buggy straight away.”

  “Thank you.” Her throat closed, overwhelmed with gratitude and emotions too powerful to dare speak of.

  “I just wish you had more traditional ambitions.” Her mother sniffled, swiped at her eyes and sat up straight, in control again. “Are you sure there is no way you can forgive the Connelly boy?”

  “You can’t help yourself, can you?” Meredith ignored the cannon blast of grief at the sound of Shane’s name, fighting not to let it show. “You only liked him when you found out about his family.”

  “Yes, because that’s when I knew he was good enough for my girl.”

  “Because he is rich.” She did not know that man—the wealthy senator’s son from Virginia. Her gaze drifted to the window and the empty corral beyond. When she thought of Shane, she remembered his dependable goodness, the gentle notes of his baritone, the kind way he treated all manner of animals and people. She loved the country boy who’d won her heart. She missed him with all the depth of her being.

  “You decided Mr. Connelly was not good enough because he was rich.” Mama didn’t bother to hide her smile as she reached for her book. “You might think I’m prejudiced, but you are, too, my dear.”

  “I am not,” she denied, too fast and too vehemently.

  “Then there’s always Lorenzo Davis,” her mother suggested.

  What if Shane was more like her than she’d imagined, and his stories and his confessions were true? What if the pieces he had left out of the stories he’d told her had nothing to do with rebellion against his controlling family and everything t
o do with finding his own path? Just as he’d said. He may come from an influential family, but he did not rely on that influence.

  It was his social position that had upset her. The notion that he was a rich man, not a man who trained horses. That he would want a life in society and a wife to go with it, and not a girl who loved the country and wanted to teach small children to read. She had been the one. She had misjudged Shane, and there was no one to blame but herself. Ashamed, she opened the envelope and removed her contract. The carefully scribed pages offered her one dream, but she had lost another—the best one of all.

  I have been honest about who I am and what I want. Shane’s words came back to her, words she refused to believe were sincere at the time. I am my own man. Nothing is going to change that.

  She could see the truth. She’d been so afraid of getting hurt, she had closed her heart to him. Now he was gone. There was no way to fix the mistake she’d made. Her grief darkened and deepened, as if to steal all the sunlight and warmth from the summery day—from every summer day to come.

  She rose from the chair, clutching her contract and left the room. There was no spring in her step, no joy in her heart. She feared there would never be again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I hate that this party has to end.” Meredith gave Fiona a final hug, looking so beautiful in her white muslin gown, simple but sweet. “It was such a beautiful wedding, I doubt any of us could top it.”

  “It was nothing fancy.” Fiona’s dark curls bounced as she shook her head, a vision of loveliness, lustrous with happiness. “Just Ian’s grandmother and my best friends. Everyone who matters to me.”

  “It was our honor to have witnessed it.” Meredith meant every word. Reverend Hadly had performed the ceremony after the Sunday service, and they’d had a small luncheon party at the little rental, where Ian and Fiona were to make their home together. It was simple to imagine the newlyweds’ laughter filling the house like summer breezes.

  “You are now a wife.” It was Lila’s turn to hug Fiona next. “Remember you used to tell us this day would never happen?”

  “I do. I vowed never to marry and look at me, I’m the first one of us to be a bride.” Fiona hugged Lila back. “Thank you all for being there with me today. As if marrying Ian wasn’t enough, having my best friends with me made it a day I will cherish always.”

  “I wonder who will be the next of us to marry?” Scarlet asked, arms out. She drew Fiona into a quick hug.

  “It will be Lila,” Earlee guessed. It was her turn to embrace the new bride.

  “Yes. Lila will be tallying up the purchases of all the men who come into the mercantile,” Kate agreed. “She is bound to catch someone’s eye.”

  “While I’m stuck on the farm all summer. There will be no romance for me.” Earlee didn’t seem to mind her fate in life, caring for her brothers and sisters and her ill mother. “I do, however, need to live vicariously through all of you.”

  “I need to do that, too,” Ruby announced, hugging Fiona in turn. “I’ll be out on the homestead all summer, just me, the pigs and the chickens.”

  “And I’ll be up in the woods where there are no handsome men, just homely ones.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Why can’t lumberjacks be cute?”

  “There must be a law against it,” Meredith quipped, leading the way toward the awaiting horses and her new buggy. “Only horsemen seem to be handsome.”

  “And Lorenzo,” Scarlet pointed out.

  Lorenzo. Meredith untethered Miss Bradshaw from the hitching post. She could only pray that her mother would not start trying to fix her up with Lorenzo. There was only one man who could fill the void in her soul, only one who was her perfect match and her beloved in every way.

  “Goodbye!” Ruby called out from the back of an old bay gelding. The horse plodded off in the direction of the open prairie.

  “I’ll see you in church next week!” Kate slid onto the seat of a homemade cart and gathered her mustang’s reins.

  “Goodbye!” Meredith called out as she directed Miss Bradshaw down the driveway. On the seat beside her, Earlee, Lila and Scarlet leaned over the sides to wave at Fiona, arm in arm with her husband.

  “She is a beautiful bride.” Lila sighed wistfully. “Doesn’t she look so happy?”

  “Exultant.” Meredith caught one last sight of the couple. What a picture they made. Ian brushed a curl from Fiona’s eyes, carefully hooking it behind her ear. The act was more loving and tender than Meredith had ever seen. “They are going to live happily-ever-after beyond all doubt.”

  “I think so, too,” Scarlet agreed.

  “Me, too,” Earlee chimed in.

  “Me, three,” Lila added.

  Soon they were in town, Lila left in front of her family’s store. Scarlet was next, dropped off in front of her home on Third Street. Earlee climbed out at the first crossroads south of town, leaving Meredith alone with a cheery wave. Miss Bradshaw kept her sensible pace as a runaway cow bolted into sight before dashing off into another field. A jackrabbit bursting out of the grasses did not so much as make the mare blink. Meredith wasn’t sure when the musical clanking began to accompany the horse’s gait until Miss Bradshaw drew up short and tossed her head, clearly deciding it was not prudent to go any farther.

  “What’s the matter, girl?” Meredith set the brake before clinging out to investigate. Puffs of dust rose up with each step. Temperate winds played with the hem of her skirt as she swished over to the mare.

  Not one to withhold her opinion, Miss Bradshaw lifted her back left hoof and gave it a shake to emphasize the problem. A shoe had come quite loose and dangled by all but one little nail.

  “Good afternoon, miss.” A rumbling baritone startled her from behind. “Looks like you have a problem.”

  No, it couldn’t be. She went icy-cold at the shocking idea. I’m making it up, she thought. I want to see him so desperately, I’m imagining the sound of his voice. She fisted her hands, doing her best to stay calm. It could not possibly be him. She had spurned him and sent him away. A man would not come back after such rejection.

  “Looks like your horse threw a shoe. I can take care of that, miss. No problem.” He strolled to her side. His shadow tumbled over her, tall and as substantial as the man.

  Shane. She opened her mouth, but nothing happened. No words, not a sound, not even air. Her entire mind erased, as if she had forgotten the English language. She stared, captivated by him—his steadfastness, his determination, his love for her shining in the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

  He towered beside her, mighty, rugged and trail-dusty. Her horseman with a black Stetson shading his face, as real as could be. What did this mean? All the terrible things she’d said, the way she’d spurned him and the assumptions she’d made horrified her now. Surely he had not come back for her, could he? Everything inside her yearned for him to say those words.

  She knew it could not be true. No doubt he had returned to Angel Falls for another reason. She had her chance, and she had failed him.

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve assisted a pretty country miss on this road.” He knuckled back his hat, revealing the striking planes of his face. No dimples, no smile, no hint of softness gentled the hard unforgiving contours. Was he remembering, too, the moment they’d first met? Instant awareness had crashed through her hard enough to wobble her knees.

  “This will only take a moment.” As if he had no recollection of that day, as if she were a stranger he did not know, he approached the horse. The low notes of his baritone made the horse swivel her ears, eager to tune in. He laid a reassuring hand on the mare’s flank. “Good to see you again, Miss Bradshaw. I hope you’ve been well.”

  The mare gave a very proper, distinguished nicker and shook her hind hoof impatiently. Clearly she did not appreciate having to wait for a solution to her problem.

  “Shane, what are you doing here? Why have you come?” The words came out more strained than she intended. The wind caught them, stealing th
em away. She watched the impeccable line of his shoulders stiffen.

  “Had a few loose ends to tie up.” He sounded strained, too. He knelt, took a pair of pliers from his back denim pocket and gently cradled Miss Bradshaw’s hoof.

  “What loose ends? I wasn’t aware you knew that many people in town.”

  “I don’t.” He gave the nail a twist and removed the horseshoe. “I got as far as Great Falls before I had to turn back.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I quit.” He lowered the mare’s hoof gently to the ground. He rose to his full height and patted her on the neck. “There you go, Miss Bradshaw. You are a good girl.”

  As if that were irrefutable, the mare nodded with great dignity.

  “You quit? The job you were so devoted to?” A gold curl tumbled from beneath her sunbonnet, bouncing along the edge of her face, making him remember all the times he’d used it as an excuse to touch her.

  “It was time for me to move on.” He braced his feet, steeled his resolve. It wasn’t easy to face her. She hadn’t given him one hint he had a chance with her. With the way she glared at him over this piece of news, it made him leery about offering his heart to her again.

  “I suppose it’s time to go back to your predetermined life.” Her chin shot up a notch. All strength, his Meredith, and spirit. He saw her spirit as clearly as the road at his feet, as the grasses dancing in the wind, as the vulnerability in her gray-blue eyes.

  “That’s right. Back to you.” He strolled toward her, palms sweating, pulse racing as if he’d been fighting a mountain lion. Oh, but it felt good to gaze upon her. To see again the roses in her cheeks, the dear little cleft in her chin, her beauty that sustained him. This was the moment of truth. He could not lose her. He did not know how to win her back. He’d come all this way, given up his apprenticeship, rehearsing what he would say to her with every passing mile.

  None of it came to mind. Practiced phrases couldn’t help him. Only one thing could.