by Stella Clark
She wore a grimace as she straightened, and concern came over him as he watched her limp away from the train doors. She looked up and time stood still as their gazes fused. She smiled, and his heart did somersaults in his body. Then, to his utter amazement, she limped her way towards him.
“Mr. Linch?”
How did she know his name? “Yes?”
“My name is Clara Slater,” she said and smiled expectantly.
Nate’s jaw fell open and he froze. It couldn’t be! She couldn’t be his mail order bride. She could not have worked in a hotel with her delicate features! He shook his head in denial, and yet she had introduced herself as Clara Slater.
When the shock lifted, anger flooded him. She had lied to him! He took a step back, and her smile disappeared.
“I think there must be a mistake,” he finally said. “I explained how difficult life here in the West is. I need a strong wife, someone who can help in the fields and at home.”
“I realize that, and I can do that. I’m stronger than I look,” she said.
His gaze dropped to her lame leg. “You have a bad leg,” he pointed out.
Tears filled her eyes. A painful ache formed in his throat. He longed to gather her in his arms and protect her. But this was not the time to let feelings get in the way of his dreams. No matter how pretty she was or how attracted he was to her, the farm was more important.
She would be a burden rather than the help he had envisioned.
“My leg doesn’t stop me from working. It never has.”
He sighed deeply. It wasn’t just the leg. She was petite and delicate looking. She could not work in a farm. Whatever she had done in the hotel must have been light work. What a fool he had been not to inquire further.
“I’m sorry,” he finally murmured and looked away, unable to meet her teary glance. His mind worked fast. It wasn’t fair to send her back home when she had come all this way to get married. An idea popped into his brain. “This is the West; there are far fewer women than men. I’m sure you’ll soon get someone to marry you. A banker or a doctor perhaps.”
He snuck a glance. She was looking at him as though he had suggested something entirely inappropriate. Still, he understood her position. She had come to get married to him and now she had found herself without a husband. His resolve hardened. He was not going to marry her from sympathy.
“Where shall I live?” she asked, her voice trembling.
It felt as though an invisible hand had dipped into his chest and was squeezing his heart. He had never felt this drawn to a woman. His eyes took in her sweet round face framed by curly blonde hair and he felt on the verge of saying yes, he would marry her.
Instead, he turned his mind over the current predicament. The answer stared right at him. She could stay at his sister Helen’s boarding house. All he had to do was convince Helen. Now he wished that he had confided in his sister that he had advertised for a mail order bride.
He loved his sister, but she was a busybody. Had he told her, she would have discouraged him. She believed in true love and had been lucky to marry a man who loved her. Unfortunately, he had passed on a couple of years back.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Clara said, jolting him back to the present.
He turned his gaze to her and was struck anew by her beauty. “My sister owns and runs a boarding house. I’m sure she’ll be happy to take you on.”
He had expected a refusal and had braced for it, but none came. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her shoes and studied them as if seeing them for the first time. It took all his willpower not to cave in at that moment when she looked so vulnerable.
“What do you say, Clara?” Her name sounded good as it rolled off his tongue.
She nodded and sighed loudly. “Whatever you say.”
“Let’s take your luggage then from the car, shall we?” He should have been pleased to win the battle, but all he felt was a bitter taste in his mouth. He reasoned with himself that she wouldn’t do him much good in the farm, and the success he envisioned would not occur with Clara as his wife.
She was better off in the boarding house where there was a chance of meeting a suitable husband. Why did he feel miserable at that thought?
Chapter Five
Clara’s leg ached as she sat in the bouncing wagon. They were now on Main Street and she wanted to burst into tears from the pain and the humiliation of Nate’s words. She could feel Nate’s eyes on her when she rubbed her leg, but there was nothing to be done.
She had wanted so much to impress him. Sitting for so long in the train had made her leg numb and painful and by the time she got to Kansas, the pain had been almost unbearable.
Sitting down had eased the pain somewhat, but the shaking of the wagon brought sharp pains. The only thing that would give her respite was to rest the leg completely. What a fool she had been to think that anyone would want to marry her! The image of his shocked expression when she introduced herself kept popping in her mind.
The humiliation had been more than she could stand, but worse than that was the thought of going back home. Rejection hurt, but she swallowed it, together with her pride, and allowed Nate to take her to his sister’s boarding house. She imagined the insults that her father would rain on her if she returned.
The boarding house was at the end of Main Street, a two-story frame building with a long wide porch and wooden chairs arranged along it.
Nate pulled the reins to a stop. “My sister is a nice lady and you’ll be comfortable here,” he said.
Clara kept her gaze downcast. She had so many questions but feared voicing them. The last thing she wanted was to anger Nate and find herself on a train headed back east. Now she knew without any doubt that nobody would give her a job with a bad leg.
He jumped down and then reached up, gripped her waist, and easily lowered her to the ground. Her body shook from the contact. What was the matter with her? He had rejected her; why would she react to his touch?
She followed Nate up the steps to the porch. He knocked on the door and moments later, it swung open. A female version of Nate stepped out, with sandy hair held back in a ponytail, green eyes, and a wide smile.
“Nate!” the woman cried and took Nate’s hands into hers. “You really do keep yourself hidden on that farm of yours,” she said and then noticed Clara.
“Nice to see you too, Helen,” Nate said in a teasing voice. “This is Miss Clara Slater.”
Clara stuck her hand out, and Helen took it and shook it vigorously.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Please come in. This is my favorite time of the day, when it’s quiet and everyone is busy with their own activities.”
They followed her into a square parlor with comfortable-looking furniture. A gray-haired woman looked up from her sewing, nodded at Nate, and continued with her work.
“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Helen said.
The kitchen was a large warm room with all manner of pots and pans hanging from nails on the walls. A delicious smell came from a pot in the stove, reminding Clara how little she had eaten.
“Please have a seat,” Helen said.
“I’d like to have a private word with you,” Nate said as he placed Clara’s bags on the floor.
They went through the back door and stood at a distance where Clara could see them conversing. Nate did all the talking, and she imagined him telling his sister her sorry tale. How she had failed to mention that she had a bad leg and he was not going to marry a lame woman.
Helen spoke and gestured with the hands, and the siblings seemed to be arguing. With a soft cry, Clara turned away and collapsed on the chair. The tears came then and she covered her mouth to muffle the sobs. Familiar emotions of feeling unwanted came over her.
She got her crying under control just as Nate and his sister returned to the house.
“Clara, Helen has agreed that you can stay here while we think of what to do next,” Nate said.
Clara nodded and mumbl
ed her thanks.
“Take Clara’s bags to the second floor, room twelve. It’s at the very end of the hallway. I hope the stairs won’t be too much for you, Clara?”
Her heart constricted in embarrassment. “No, I’ll be fine,” she said and forced a smile. No matter what had happened between her and Nate, his sister had shown her nothing but kindness.
Nate left the kitchen with her bags. An awkward silence descended in the kitchen before Helen pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Clara. She took Clara’s hand.
“I’m sorry about what has happened between you and Nate, but everything will be just fine. You’ll be safe here with us.”
Her kindness undid Clara and tears fell from her eyes. Self-pity engulfed her. She had no one at all in the world and was at the mercy of kindly strangers.
“I’m sorry,” Clara finally said and mopped her face with a handkerchief. “I’m not usually so emotional.”
“It’s perfectly understandable; you’ve been through a lot today.”
Nate chose that moment to return to the kitchen. “I’ll be on my way now.”
“Make sure to pass by soon,” Helen said.
Clara could not bear to pretend to be cheerful. She could not help but feel resentful. Nate had judged her by a disability. He had not given her a chance.
“My brother’s not the smartest man when it comes to women,” Helen said. “But that’s his loss. I bet you’re starving.”
Clara smiled. “I could eat.”
Helen pushed her chair back. “I’ve got plenty of food.”
Clara sat back in her chair and fought to keep her eyes open. Emotionally drained, she had no more energy to worry about her future or think about Nate’s rejection. All she wanted was food in her belly and a warm, comfortable place to sleep.
“There you are,” Helen said moments later. “I’ll have someone put the tin bath in your room and you can wash away the grime of the journey.”
It should have been Nate treating her with such kindness, not his sister. Clara tried to smile. “I can’t tell you how grateful—”
“You’re welcome. And the less said of that the better,” Helen said briskly.
Chapter Six
Nate stared at the black and white cow that had just been delivered to the farm and didn’t know whether to feel pleased or sad. He had hoped to surprise his new wife with a cow so that they would have milk every day.
Now what was he to do with all the milk? His mind went to Clara. It had been four days since he had taken her to his sister’s boarding house and he had thought of her every single day. He wondered how she was faring. Had the frightened expression left her face?
It was none of his business now, Nate reminded himself. He grabbed the rope around the cow’s neck and led it into the newly built shed. Since it was evening, he would test out the truth of the farmer’s claim. He went into the house and returned to the shed moments later with a bucket.
“You behave yourself now, miss,” Nate said to the cow.
She did not respond and he took that as a go ahead to milk her. He squatted next to her udder and as soon as he touched her teats, she kicked suddenly, catching him squarely on the knee. He yelped in pain and jumped to his feet.
Grimacing in pain, Nate went out in search of a reed that he could use to tie the cow’s legs. He found just what he was looking for hanging over the well and, pleased, he returned to the shed.
“Let’s see you kick now,” he said to the cow after he firmly tied her legs together.
He proceeded to milk her and grinned as the bucket filled up. An idea came to him then. He needed very little milk for himself and usually went without unless he bought some in town.
Helen would appreciate the milk, he thought, carrying it into the house. His heart leaped at the thought of seeing Clara again. He placed the milk on the kitchen table and went into his chambers to clean up. It wouldn’t do to go there in his work clothes.
After washing his face and changing his clothes, Nate peered at the small mirror on the dresser. Satisfied with his appearance, he whistled as he made his way back to the kitchen. Helen was a good cook and he looked forward to eating a good home-cooked dinner.
His good mood had nothing to do with seeing Clara, Nate told himself, but it wouldn’t hurt to see for himself how she was doing. He packed the milk in a bottle and went out through the back to the barn and hitched the horse to the wagon.
***
Ten minutes later, he was driving the wagon down the road that led into town. Clara’s pretty face sprang to mind and he wondered if she had found a suitor. The thought should have pleased him; after all, if she got someone to court her, his guilt would ease.
He felt pleased for no particular reason, but he couldn’t remember feeling so light in mood. He approached the boarding house from the back and caught sight of Clara hanging over the well, pumping water. His first notion was that she would injure herself, and then he laughed off the thought.
She was a grown woman, not a child, and besides, she was not his responsibility. The rattle of the wagon alerted her to his approach, and she straightened up and their gazes met. He brought the wagon to a halt and sat staring at her. She was even prettier than he remembered.
How would it feel like to wake up to such beauty every single morning? Nate shook his head to free it of the disturbing image of Clara’s mass of blonde hair spread on his pillow. He watched in fascination as color spread to her cheeks. What was she thinking about?
“Clara?” he said.
She nodded and pushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “Hello. Helen has nipped out for a bit. She’s gone to get something from the mercantile.”
“That’s all right,” Nate said. “I’m in no rush.” He jumped from the wagon and landed next to her.
Close up, he inhaled her scent of soap and spices. Then he remembered her limp and took a step back. “How’s your leg?”
His question wiped away the friendly look on her face. Now she contemplated him, stony-faced. “It’s fine.”
What had he done to offend her? Surely asking after her leg, which had clearly been causing her pain the last time, was a gentlemanly thing to do. It seemed that was not the case in Clara’s books.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said stiffly and made for the back door.
He shrugged and proceeded to hitch his horse to a tree while observing Clara. The limp was not as pronounced as it had been, but the right leg looked weaker than the left. It had less muscle and was a little shorter.
He had been right to say no to a marriage. Clara was a pretty face and that was all. He needed more than that, a stubborn part of him insisted. But the part that felt attracted to Clara refused to let go of the thought of her belonging to him.
Chapter Seven
Why did she keep sneaking glances at him? He was a despicable man and she wished he would finish up his dinner and leave. Except when she looked at him speaking gently with his nieces and nephew, her heart melted. Another side of Nate came out when he spoke with the children.
He gave them his complete attention as they told him about their day. The family sat at one end of the long table in the dining room and the boarders on the other. Helen had insisted from the first day that Clara should always join them, and it made her feel wanted and welcome.
She brought her attention to what Nate was saying. The children and Helen listened with rapt attention as he told them how he had come about having a cow.
“You bought it from the Millers?” Helen asked and then turned to Clara. “They sold everything and returned east when they lost their crop.”
Clara made sympathetic noises.
“That’s odd. Why did you want a cow if you had nowhere to take the milk?” Helen said, and then quickly added, “Not that we’re not grateful. In fact we’d be happy to take any excess milk off you any time.”
They all laughed. Nate had a deep rumble of a laugh which surprised Clara when she heard it. She had not seen him laugh
that first day, but there was hardly anything amusing about changing one’s mind about a mail order bride. His face smoothed and relaxed when he laughed, and it made him handsome.
Her eyes darted about, afraid that someone had read her thoughts. They would think she was a fool, and she probably was.
“I thought we’d need a steady supply of milk …” Nate said before his voice trailed off.
His words hit her like a sword to her chest. He had bought the cow in preparation for her arrival. A feeling of acute loss came over her and she felt tears jump to her eyes. Silence fell over their end of the table.
“Clara, do you mind helping me clear these dishes away?” Helen said, and Clara gratefully shot to her feet.
She gathered the boarders’ empty plates, accepting their thanks with curt nods. In the kitchen, she dropped the plates into the wooden sink and gripped the sides. The pain came in waves. Knowing the details of what she had lost made it ten times worse. Images of her waking up early to help with the milking or prepare breakfast popped into her mind.
“I’m sorry, Clara,” a voice said, making her jump.
Helen draped an arm around her shoulders. “Men are foolish, aren’t they? You’re a lovely woman, and one day, Nate will regret losing you.”
Of what use would his regret be? Clara’s mind screamed. She did not voice her thoughts. Helen was doing her very best, and she had acted as a friend more than anybody ever had in Clara’s life.
“You can stay here while I serve dessert,” Helen said.
Clara straightened her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face. “I’d like to help.” She was not going to hide away in the kitchen when she had done nothing wrong.
Helen beamed. “Good on you.”
Despite her brave talk, she kept her glance lowered as they ate the pound cake Clara had prepared that afternoon. She was glad of her cooking skills. It meant that she could help Helen with the cooking.
“Shall I tell you what happened when I tried to milk the cow the first time?” Nate said to his nieces and nephew.
