Mistletoe Mommy

by Danica Favorite

  Another smile lit up Nellie’s face. “I would be delighted,” she said.

  * * *

  Had Nellie really just accepted a proposal of marriage? It shouldn’t be a surprise; after all, that was why she’d come. But it seemed almost too good to be true to have a husband fall into her lap.

  “I cannot countenance such a thing,” Mrs. Heatherington said. “My matches come from careful consideration and selection. This could ruin my business.”

  Nellie turned and looked at the older woman. “I do apologize. Fortunately for you, your business had nothing to do with this match. You’d already told Mr. Jeffries that you can’t help him. I hadn’t yet put in my application with you. Therefore, you aren’t liable for anything that happens between us. We are merely two parties who happened to meet at your place of business and came to an agreement on our own. Thank you for allowing us to have this conversation in your parlor. We shan’t trouble you further. Good day to you, Mrs. Heatherington. I appreciate your thoughtful contributions to this matter.”

  “You would really marry a stranger?” Mrs. Heatherington looked shocked, like she’d never heard such a thing.

  “How is this any different from what you do?” Nellie stared at the woman for a moment.

  Mrs. Heatherington met her gaze. “I have a long questionnaire that I use to determine whether or not a couple is suited for one another. I compare their likes, interests, temperament and values, and bring together compatible people to share each other’s lives. But you’re right. You made this decision on your own. As long as you do not hold me responsible, then I suppose I have nothing more to say on the matter.”

  Mr. Jeffries stepped forward. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Heatherington. I greatly appreciate the careful thought and consideration you gave to my situation. I can see that you care deeply for doing right by your clients, and even by strangers. It’s commendable, and though we did not use your services, I will always speak very highly of you and your business.”

  Then Mr. Jeffries held his hand out to Nellie. “I believe there is a restaurant down the street. Will you join me for an early supper so we can discuss the terms of our marriage?”

  Leaving Mrs. Heatherington looking rather like she’d been through a terrible, unexpected storm, Nellie took his arm and exited the building.

  The air was crisp, and the scent of burning wood from people’s fireplaces, along with the unmistakable heavy clouds in the distance, told her that deep winter would soon be upon them. All the better to have this matter settled so quickly and easily, then. A few more weeks, days even, and the weather might have made things more difficult.

  Once they’d gotten about halfway down the block, Nellie looked up at Mr. Jeffries. The previous scene echoed in her mind like a strange dream. And though it seemed completely out of place, Nellie chuckled softly.

  Mr. Jeffries stared at her. “What’s so funny?”

  “Did you see the look on Mrs. Heatherington’s face? I thought she was going to die of apoplexy. What kind of person marries a complete stranger?”

  She shook her head, marveling at herself. Nellie wasn’t normally so quick in her decisions, but as she’d heard Mr. Jeffries pleading his case with the woman, she knew she had to help him. Who could refuse a man who needed that kind of help?

  Besides, she needed his help, as well.

  “Us, I suppose.” Then Mr. Jeffries frowned, making him look considerably older than he seemed to be. His blond hair held no flecks of gray, and his face was unmarred by wrinkles. A young man, bearing the burden of a much older one. “That seems incredibly irresponsible, doesn’t it?” Then he sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s been so hard since my wife died, and I’m out of options. I’ve been told I have good instincts for people, and I feel like I can trust you. Plus, it seems as though we are of similar mind, which seems the same as the shared values Mrs. Heatherington spoke of. I must admit, though, what interested me the most in you was your happiness about the children. You don’t mind not having children of your own?”

  There was no judgment in Mr. Jeffries’s words. Too many people saw Nellie’s childless state and treated her as though she had some kind of defect.

  “I cannot have children,” she said quietly. Shame ate at the pit of her stomach at the admission. Her lack of fertility was one of the reasons Ernest had been disappointed in her as a wife. She hadn’t been able to give him the son he’d wanted, and for that he’d made sure she was punished.

  Mr. Jeffries slipped his hand into hers. “Then you shall gain three,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Ruby is ten, Amos is seven, and Maeve is two.”

  Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. Mr. Jeffries hadn’t hesitated when she admitted her infertility. Though she had spent her whole life wanting nothing more than to be someone’s mother, she’d always considered it a blessing that she and Ernest had never had children. She couldn’t imagine submitting a child to his cruelty.

  Some might think her foolish for wanting another husband, considering how Ernest had treated her, but Nellie had to hope that this time she had chosen better. When she’d married Ernest, she hadn’t yet learned to recognize the cruel glint of a man’s eyes that said he cared only for himself. She hadn’t known the reddish tinge to the end of a man’s nose and the sour smell that came with the overfondness of drink. Back then, Nellie loved the flowery phrases used to beguile because she thought them romantic, not realizing that poetry held little truth and deception was easily hidden behind pretty words.

  There was comfort in Mr. Jeffries’s frank speech. He held no air of pretense, and there was no sign in him of the kind of man she’d learned to fear. She’d been honest when she’d told Mrs. Heatherington that a woman like her could not get by without the protection of a husband.

  Before she’d come to Colorado, she’d found more than her share of challenges simply because she was a woman alone. People wanted to deal with her husband or her father, not a young widow. Marriage offered her the chance to live without having to continually justify her situation.

  But as she looked up at Mr. Jeffries and his gentle gaze, she wondered if he’d have much sympathy if he knew her full story. Knew the horror her marriage had been the last few months, and what Ernest had done. One would think that his death would have brought her freedom, but...

  Nellie shook her head. She was free now. In a new part of the country, with a new last name, thanks to her soon-to-be husband, they wouldn’t be able to find her. A man’s debts weren’t supposed to pass on to his wife. Then again, most men didn’t sell their wives to cover their debts. Slavery might have been abolished, but it didn’t stop men from making backroom deals to hand over their wives for financial compensation.

  Married to a man who’d had no part in the arrangement, Nellie would be protected from them coming after her. She’d run away when Ernest died, but they’d found her at her sister’s and dragged her back to the horrible place they’d been keeping her.

  Where she’d seen cruelty in the faces of other men, she saw a kindness in Mr. Jeffries, a gentleness, and a deep sadness at having lost his wife. She didn’t expect him to love her in that way, but knowing that this man had a heart made it seem safer somehow to trust him. Even though there was still so much to learn about him.

  Glancing up at Mr. Jeffries, she smiled. “Since we’re to be married, might I trouble you for your name? I heard Mrs. Heatherington refer to you as Mr. Jeffries, but we should discuss what I am to call you.”

  “Luke.” He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand. “And I hope you will allow me to call you Nellie.”

  “Of course.” She returned his smile, though part of her wished she hadn’t made the effort. Luke had a pleasantness of manner, and the way he looked at her almost made her feel like a schoolgirl.

  But she’d long ago lost any of those schoolgirl dreams.

  N
ellie hated the thought that she needed a man. But the police only shook their heads pityingly and told her they couldn’t help her when she’d gone to them to escape the men who’d bought her.

  “Go to your husband or father,” they’d said. What was a woman without either to do? Especially since one of the men Ernest sold her to had claimed he was her father, and at that point no one would listen to her story. A father had the right to do what he wanted with his errant daughter. A husband could force his wife into unspeakable things, and no one would lift a hand to help her. Nellie’s only chance was to find a good man who would give her the protection of his name.

  As they crossed the street and headed toward the restaurant Nellie remembered passing on the way here, she stole a glance at Luke. He didn’t seem the sort to hurt a woman. Though Mrs. Heatherington’s words might have provoked a lesser man, he’d remained calm and polite, and Nellie hadn’t seen any signs of a temper.

  Still, when she found herself seated across from Luke at a table, she had to wonder whether she could really trust him. He’d been a man looking to get what he wanted; therefore, he’d shown only his most pleasing side.

  When the waiter came and poured her a cup of tea, Nellie couldn’t help herself.

  “What do you think of the roast beef?” she asked, pointing at the menu but leaning forward enough to spill the tea. All over Luke.

  “Oh!” He jumped, but his gaze immediately went to Nellie. “You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”

  She stared at him for a moment. She’d spilled the tea on him. On purpose. Well, not so he would know she’d done it on purpose. But when she’d accidentally spilled things at home, Ernest would yell at her, call her obscene names, and sometimes...

  Nellie shook her head. “No. I’m terribly sorry. I was so engrossed in the menu, I’d forgotten the tea was there. I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

  Kind eyes looked back at her. “Accidents happen. You’ll find, in a house full of children, we have our share of spills.” He dabbed at the mess with his napkin. “And it’s only tea. Easy enough to get out in the wash.”

  The waiter rushed over with more tea and napkins.

  “I do apologize,” Nellie told him. “I’m usually not so clumsy.”

  With a smile, the waiter said, “It’s all right, miss. Happens all the time.”

  “That’s just what I was telling her.” Luke sent another warm look her way. “I believe she’s a little nervous, as she’s just accepted my proposal of marriage.”

  A broad smile lit up the waiter’s face. “Congratulations to you both.”

  “Thank you,” Nellie said, feeling some of the heaviness leave her chest.

  As soon as the waiter left, Luke leaned in. “I hope it’s all right that I said that. It occurred to me that you might be nervous about marrying me, which accounts for your accident. I know we’re strangers, but I hope that over the next couple of days, you can get to know me and feel more comfortable with your decision.”

  His words already made her feel better about marrying him. After all, Ernest had wooed her with sweet words about her beauty and how much he loved her. Luke was more focused on making her feel at ease with him and the situation. Nellie couldn’t recall a time when Ernest had done the same. Even in public, he would have said something to belittle her.

  “I appreciate that,” she said, smiling. “I hope I can do the same for you.”

  He nodded slowly. “I just need to know you’ll be good to my children. Love them like your own. Keep the household running smoothly.”

  Luke paused, looking around the room before bringing his attention back to her. “And I hope it’s not too much to ask, but I would dearly love a clean house. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Diana was not much of a housekeeper.”

  For a moment, Nellie looked at him, unsure what to make of the twinkle in his blue eyes. “What do you mean by not much of a housekeeper? My late husband was most particular, and I—”

  Nellie gave an involuntary shudder, hating the memories that came to her, unbidden.

  Luke leaned forward and placed his hands over hers. “We’ll come to an agreement, don’t you worry. I learned to do the dishes Diana left in the sink because she’d gotten carried away with visiting her friends, and I imagine if you can’t do things to my liking, I can do it myself. That’s what marriage is about. Finding ways to compromise and figuring out what’s most important.”

  He gave her hands a squeeze, then leaned back in his chair. “The world didn’t end because the dishes didn’t get done in a timely manner. And now that Diana’s gone, I’m grateful her friends got that extra time with her. When you lose someone you love, you figure out that the battle you thought worth fighting shouldn’t have been fought at all. I’d do the dishes every single day if it meant having her back.”

  With a slight shake of his head, Luke continued. “No disrespect to you, of course. I’m just saying that you don’t have to bend over backward to please me. All I ask is you do your best, and I promise to do the same for you.”

  Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. She’d thought herself immune to a man’s sweet words. But these words held a different kind of sweetness—the hope that not all men were monsters. And perhaps even an answer to all the prayers she’d said on this journey. That she’d find someone who would be kind to her.

  Chapter Two

  When they’d finished their meal, Luke escorted Nellie across town to the hotel where she’d been staying. Because she was a woman traveling alone, the respectable establishments had turned her away. Too many women of ill repute came under the guise of being a widow. Luke glanced at Nellie as she avoided a puddle. He couldn’t imagine anyone thinking so poorly of her, a genteel woman who’d clearly hit on hard times. The place she’d found was not in the best part of town, and Luke would feel better having her in his own hotel—in separate rooms, of course.

  Though their conversation over dinner had turned to easier topics, Luke couldn’t get Nellie’s earlier reactions out of his head. She acted almost afraid, like she thought he might hurt her. He’d answered her questions about the house and the children, his expectations thereof. Almost like a job interview. But not.

  Underlying it all was the tension of knowing he would be married to this woman, sharing his life with her. He and Diana had not spoken of these things prior to marriage. They’d flirted, talked about the weather, and when her parents weren’t looking, stolen a few kisses.

  In his head, he’d firmly told himself he would not be kissing Nellie McClain. But every once in a while, he found his mind drifting.

  Like now. Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I got distracted.”

  “I was asking how you discipline the children.”

  Luke followed her gaze to the entrance of a store, where a mother stood, scolding her child harshly. Even at a distance, Luke could see the fury in the woman’s eyes, her face red, as the child practically cowered before her. The little boy looked to be slightly older than his youngest, Maeve, and he seemed too young to have done anything so terrible.

  Luke took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t given his expectations of discipline much thought, but now that Nellie was asking, he realized he should have. How could he have thought to bring a woman into their lives without knowing how she’d treat them?

  “I know conventional wisdom is that to spare the rod is to spoil the child, but I don’t believe in striking a child. I don’t know what that child did, and it’s not my place to judge, so perhaps I shouldn’t say anything, but I prefer to use other methods with my own children.” He glanced in the direction of the mother and child as they continued on their way.

  Nellie nodded. “I agree with you on that. Corporal punishment only serves to create fear, and I wish for the children to learn about love.”

  Clearly the
y agreed on parenting, but the tone in Nellie’s voice made Luke wonder if there wasn’t more to her words than what she was saying. Once again, Luke found himself wanting to ask Nellie more personal questions, to learn about this fear that seemed to be lurking underneath. Because she was afraid. What had her husband been like? Something deep inside Luke told him that he’d hurt her. Badly.

  “You never said—how did your husband die?”

  He watched as Nellie drew in a breath that caused her shoulders to shake slightly. How easily he’d strayed to a personal subject, even though he’d been doing his best not to.

  “I’m sorry,” Luke said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  She shook her head. “It’s all right. If we’re to be married, we should be able to answer one another’s questions.”

  Looking as though she had to steel herself for the topic, Nellie straightened. “He was shot in a saloon for cheating at cards.”

  What kind of man would do that to his wife? Luke’s stomach churned. “That must have been difficult for you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I’m not,” Nellie said quietly. “I didn’t approve of his lifestyle, and it caused me nothing but grief. Which is why I apologize if any of my questions seem impertinent, but had I known certain things about Ernest beforehand, I would have never married him.”

  None of the reasons Luke previously had for wanting to marry Nellie seemed to matter now. Next to him was a deeply wounded woman, and his heart cried out for her. He wanted to help her. To heal her. He couldn’t give her his love, no, that would be too much for him. But he would show her that the things she hinted at, the things that lay beneath the surface of every line on her face, they were not true of every man.

  “You can ask me all you want. I promise to give honest answers.” Luke sighed. “Though I suppose if your late husband cheated at cards, you probably have no reason to believe me.”