True Heart's Desire

by Caroline Fyffe

  Belle laughed, her face more sun kissed and freckled than when they’d arrived from Philadelphia. “You know I’m not backing out, Henry. Let the pianist know I’m ready to become Mrs. Blake Harding.” She hugged herself with happiness. “Thank you, Father, for bringing us back to Eden. We belong here.”

  Lavinia heaved a relieved, joyful sigh. How romantic. Belle and Blake. Her thoughts strayed to Rhett Laughlin. She’d never thought any man could be as handsome as Blake, but she’d just changed her mind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rhett had no intention of perpetuating the misconception of his identity past the wedding ceremony. As soon as that was over, the first person he spoke with, he’d right the wrong, whoever that person happened to be, and no matter about Miss Brinkman. But now wasn’t the time to upset the applecart. Not before the bride and all her sisters walked down the aisle.

  Noticing that the last polished-oak bench had some space, he settled next to an old fellow whose hair was slicked back, his tattered suit clean and pressed. Several parishioners turned Rhett’s way and eyed him with curiosity.

  “Howdy,” the old man whispered. “I’m Mr. Little. You new ta town?”

  He nodded, not feeling particularly friendly at the moment. All hell was going to break loose over the fact that he’d helped Miss Brinkman dress. He wondered if he’d been born under a dark star. “Rhetten Laughlin,” he responded. He nodded at a middle-aged woman halfway up the pews who’d glanced his way. She promptly turned away. Men outnumbered the women five to one. Just like Shawn thought. And this is only the beginning . . .

  “You come in on the stage?”

  “Yep.”

  The people filling this church were the customers he aimed to entice. The San Francisco Daily Call had run a series of human-interest stories about the death of the wealthy rancher John Brinkman and how he’d drawn his daughters back to Eden after eighteen years, turning them into extremely wealthy women in their own right. The articles had run three Sundays in a row. Readers had been spellbound, as had Shawn, waiting each week for the new installment. Rhett had to admit the stories were pretty entertaining.

  Shawn had come up with the plan right then. Five—now four—young, beautiful, and rich women would draw an abundance of men to this small, rustic Colorado town. They’d come rushing in, not for gold or silver but in hope of winning a Brinkman’s heart. Rhett smiled to himself. A gold rush of a different sort.

  And where there were men looking to settle down, women would follow. To Shawn’s way of thinking, only five men would be lucky enough to win the hand of a Brinkman. That would leave a good many bachelors in Eden. Spinsters, widows, women down on their luck, all looking to start fresh and in need of suitable mates, would flock to Eden—especially if the paper kept printing stories like the ones that had captured his brother’s attention. Eden was on the verge of a population explosion—and Shawn had been willing to bank on it.

  Now I am too. From the look of the male-dominated congregation, his brother’s calculations had been correct. Rhett aimed to capitalize on these men now, and the ones to come in the future, including the women, and feed their appetites. Everyone had to eat, especially if he was courting.

  And I’ll fulfill Shawn’s dream. That’s the least I can do to atone for my hand in his death.

  “I’m business partners with the bride-to-be,” the old man whispered with pride. He smelled of hair wax and peppermint. The comment garnered a chastising eyebrow from a woman across the way. “Ain’t started yet,” he grumbled back at her and she turned away.

  Rhett smiled but didn’t respond, hoping the old man would get the idea now wasn’t the time for conversation.

  “Plannin’ ta stay?”

  There was no hope for it. “If things work out,” he mumbled.

  The double doors opened, and a hush wrapped around the church. The pianist tipped her chin and began to play.

  “I used to run the local tannery,” Mr. Little went on as if nothing special was about to happen. “Before the place got blowed up last year. New one’s just finished, and we’re getting everything up and—”

  “Shhhhh.”

  Mr. Little snapped his mouth closed at the sound directed at them. Rhett’s face heated, and he focused his attention to the front in hopes the man beside him would stop talking.

  “That’s Blake, Belle’s intended.”

  Of course that was. The man he gestured to at the front of the church was flanked by four groomsmen.

  “That tall fella, two in, is Clint Dawson, the sheriff of Eden. The colored fella, Blake’s best man, saved Blake’s life during the Civil War, when Blake was just a kid. They’s more like brothers than friends. Third fella is Trevor Hill, one of the ranch hands. And Henry Glass, who’ll be escorting Belle down the aisle, is the local lawyer. If you need legal advice, he’s the one to see.”

  Rhett nodded, not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to encourage him either. Mr. Little must be hard of hearing, because he wasn’t all that quiet.

  The woman on the piano changed her tune as the first bridesmaid appeared.

  “That’s Katie, the baby,” Mr. Little said, his whisper only low to himself. “She sure is a pretty little thing.”

  The old man chuckled and held a gnarled hand over his mouth, leaning toward Rhett as if he had a secret. “And here comes Lavinia. Lookie at that thing on her head. She’s fond of making head ornaments of all kinds, but being a pirate at her own sister’s wedding is taking her obsession a bit far. That looks downright silly.”

  Rhett shrugged. He wouldn’t say a word, share the story, or expound on anything that had happened behind the hotel door to anyone, least of all his companion. He wanted to live down his part as soon as he could. Still, seeing Miss Brinkman brought an unbidden memory of her long, stocking-clad legs. The creamy, soft skin on the back of her neck that he’d accidentally brushed in the process of buttoning her gown. Angry, he jerked his gaze away and looked out the window and up into the clouds. He’d not gone looking for such a compromising situation with a local young woman the moment he stepped off the stage. He was disappointed trouble had found him so quickly, especially with the sorrow he’d left back in San Francisco. His chance to begin anew was before him. His reckless days were over.

  Mr. Little straightened, going serious. “But I’ll not laugh at her pot roast. It’s as good as any I ever ate. She’s done her father proud with that restaurant she inherited. It’s a plumb pleasure to eat there. Now here’s Emma. The sight of her purty, rose-colored hair always makes me feel like spring. She’s a rascal, though, and a tease, but bakes me cookies almost every week.” His face pinked up.

  He gestured with his chin to the tall, slim young woman standing in the alcove ready to walk down the aisle. “That’s Mavis. Quite a distinguished woman.” Her calm demeanor mixed with a dash of authority easily marked her as the oldest. The articles had mentioned her several times, noting that she was a new widow. Her face was pretty, but not like the heart shape of her sister Lavinia. That young woman had caught his eye, and why not? He’d more than gazed into the depths of her eyes long enough.

  Once Mavis was away, the bride stepped forward on the arm of Henry Glass, the attorney with whom he’d corresponded. Rhett had jumped his schedule by a few weeks and hoped that wouldn’t make a difference in the purchase of the deserted building across from the hotel. He’d caught a glimpse of the place when he’d stepped off the stage, and again when he’d agreed to escort Lavinia to the church, and now he couldn’t wait to get back and take a tour. See if there was anything worth saving.

  The beauty of the bride was undeniable.

  Again, Mr. Little leaned over. “Don’t let her fool ya. Belle’s taken to ranching like she was born on a horse. She might look purty, but she can shoot a fly off a post a hundred yards away.”

  People watched with rapt wonder. Weddings were a time of joy and hope. But Rhett didn’t feel their excitement. All he could think about was atoning for Shawn’s death. And maybe
, once he’d done that, he’d discover whether he deserved a second chance at happiness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Before Lavinia had a chance to relax, the brief ceremony was over and she was marching back down the aisle on Trevor Hill’s arm. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about her eye, but as she glanced around she realized it felt a thousand times better. The church floors, walls, and windows had been buffed to a high sheen and never looked better.

  Simplicity was what Belle and Blake had wanted after the lavish autumn housewarming the unofficial partners of the Five Sisters Ranch had thrown, during which Blake had proposed to Belle. Then, in late December, since the big snows had yet to fall, they’d had the idea to throw a Christmas party that would be rivaled by none. Henry had agreed, thinking their first Christmas back was something wonderful to celebrate. Blake and the ranch hands had gone in hunt of a Christmas tree befitting the festive mood. They’d set out to accomplish a daring feat, and they hadn’t disappointed. Getting the monster into the house and firmly anchored took every ranch hand and still had been a struggle. The tree rose from the first-floor open living room almost to the second-story ceiling.

  Lavinia sucked in a deep, cleansing breath at the memory. Life had been good here—not just with her sisters, but with the café and helping at the orphanage. Still, she found herself feeling invisible and a bit dissatisfied with her lot. Had she given up too much by leaving Philadelphia? She’d worked in a tailor’s shop there, but just before coming to Eden, she’d secured a coveted apprenticeship with a well-known milliner—her true heart’s desire. The opportunity was scheduled to begin in the summer, giving her time to stay in Eden until the conditions of their father’s will had been met. But last week a letter had arrived, delayed months by the snowy mountain passes. Mr. Hansberry’s plans had changed. She was summoned to return immediately if she was still interested in apprenticing with him. Heat stung the back of her eyes. She’d missed her chance and hadn’t even known. And yet, how could she contemplate leaving Eden? If she were truthful with herself, that was exactly what she wanted.

  Almost to the end of the aisle, Trevor glanced down and squeezed her hand. “We’re all glad you made it, Lavinia,” he whispered. “The day wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

  The sight of his warm, endearing smile was accompanied by something else that made her blink and look away. The tall, handsome, broad-shouldered twenty-nine-year-old ranch hand, whom she considered a dear friend, had never made such calf eyes at her before. Perhaps Blake getting married had spurred these feelings—or maybe she was imagining things.

  “Thank you, Trevor. I wouldn’t have arrived in time if the new doctor hadn’t shown up when I needed him.” Her gaze sought out Rhett Laughlin in the back of the church. Finding him next to Mr. Little, their gazes met and held for one second before she skimmed across the crowd.

  Again Trevor pressed her hand, nestled in the bend of his arm. “Then I’m glad,” he whispered, his head inclined to hers. “How’s your eye feel now?”

  She gave a brief smile. “Much better, thank you.”

  The second they hit the entry, Lavinia pulled the sash from her head and relinquished the material into Karen’s hand as she and Trevor passed by.

  All around, people streamed out of the church and began tossing handfuls of rice—representing a rain of good fortune, the blessing of children, and a long and happy life—at the new couple, who stood laughing and smiling on the top step of the small church. Belle had sent away for the costly item last year, as soon as she and Blake had decided to marry. Lavinia extricated her arm from Trevor’s and moved to find a safe spot to stand. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to spot Dr. Laughlin. More than his handsome face, she’d been daydreaming about the man himself during the ceremony. His gentle hands and calming voice were seared into her thoughts.

  “There’s the doctor now,” Trevor said, gesturing to Mr. Laughlin, head and shoulders above most of the rest. She’d forgotten Trevor was standing behind her. “Should we go say hello?”

  “Surely not,” she said.

  Trevor tipped his head.

  She hadn’t meant to give such a strong reaction.

  “I just want to thank him for getting you to the church on time.”

  Again the calf eyes. When on earth had this begun? She thought back, trying to remember if she’d given the man the wrong impression. He always shared a silly joke or two when he came into the café to eat or when she saw him at the ranch, but that was all—she’d thought.

  She nodded at Elizabeth Smith and took two handfuls of rice, joining in the excitement that bubbled through the crowd. On the steps of the church, Blake swooped Belle into a dramatic embrace and kissed her long and passionately.

  Cheers went up! They were Eden’s darling couple.

  Drawing back, the newly married couple gazed into each other’s eyes for only a moment and then kissed again, this one not for show, but a promise of undying love for all eternity.

  Shivers ran through Lavinia. Such love, such passion. A sight that was rarely seen, but a bond that was special and to be cherished. Belle had found her man and her future. Everything for them would be smooth sailing from now on. And Lavinia was happy for both.

  With a tingle of apprehension, she glanced over her shoulder to find Rhett Laughlin looking at her. He pulled his gaze away immediately, but not before she saw something in his face.

  That’s ridiculous. I mustn’t let my imagination sweep me away. I have plans, even if they’ve been disrupted for now. When the letter from Mr. Hansberry had arrived, she’d immediately sent a telegram explaining why she was responding so late, and that she couldn’t leave Eden until the six-month stay had elapsed—their father’s requirement to ensure that they made a commitment to the town before they’d be allowed to inherit the ranch. She felt her lips wobble. She hadn’t heard back, and she probably never would. She’d need to figure out a new way to achieve her aspirations, and not forgo them altogether.

  “They look pretty darned happy,” Trevor whispered at her side. “I didn’t think Belle would be the settlin’ type the first time we met, but now I see different. I guess the right man will bring out the woman in—a—woman . . . ,” he finished rather awkwardly. His face darkened as he looked down into her eyes.

  Heavens.

  She lifted one shoulder offhandedly. “We need to go inside and take the photograph now.” She chanced one more quick glance over her shoulder, only to find Rhett Laughlin gone. That was all right. She’d have a chance to speak with him again at Mademoiselle de Sells. With a lightened step and a smile for Trevor, she hurried back inside the church and toward the altar.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Beaming, Henry Glass ushered the wedding guests into Mademoiselle de Sells as if he were the father of the bride. And why not? He and John had been so much more than business associates. Henry had been at his side for years, and during his last month, practically every minute. He still had private papers and instructions John had given him concerning his children and the ranch that not even Blake knew about, nor any of John’s daughters.

  Being guardian over the sisters was a heavy responsibility, but over these past months, the burden had lightened. The girls had agreed to stay in Eden, at least for the time allotted in the will, and Belle and Blake had fallen in love. They’re man and wife! Henry knew John would be overjoyed. I wish you could have seen her, old friend. She looked so beautiful. And Blake, well, there’s not much I can say except that he’s never been happier. Rest assured, your plans played out just like you’d hoped. I only wish you were alive today to celebrate with us.

  Finished with the few group photographs at the church, Henry had arrived at the restaurant ahead of the others to a cluster of excited faces ready to be treated to the sumptuous fare of Jean-Luc Boucher and his younger sister, Amorette. “Go on in while we wait for the guests of honor,” he repeated over and over as the line passed him through the door. “Belle and Blake will arrive shortly.
The courtyard is open today as well. There will be plenty of room for everyone. Enjoy.”

  A soft wind, warm for this time in March, lifted the hems of the ladies’ dresses and ruffled the men’s hair. Elizabeth Smith was already inside helping put out the food. Henry stifled an affectionate smile thinking of her. She’d come to town claiming that her son, Johnny, was really John Brinkman’s illegitimate son. Though her claim had been a lie born out of desperation, he’d come to see her as an incredible woman—and a devoted mother. How my life has changed since I’ve met Elizabeth. At the moment, he was trying to be patient and give her time to settle into Eden before he sprang his feelings on her—feelings he hoped she reciprocated. He’d tell her he wanted to make her his wife and build her a home, a real home, and take her out of the boardinghouse where she now lived. That there was no one else on earth he wanted to spend his life with besides her and little Johnny.

  As if his affection had conjured him, four-year-old Johnny appeared in the doorway and wiggled around several women to get outside.

  “Johnny, hello.” Henry smiled at the boy. Johnny’s brown corduroy pants and neatly tucked-in white shirt were still surprisingly clean. A miniature black string tie rested below his chin and looked as cute as a button. Such a good boy. I’d be lucky to call him my son. “Is everything inside to your mother’s liking?”

  The youngster nodded.

  “Is the food out on the table?”

  “Sure is, but Jean-Luc—I mean, Mr. Boucher,” he quickly corrected, “said no one is to eat from the main table until the bride and groom arrive. My ma’s hopping around like a grasshopper. Miss Amorette too.” He let out a hearty laugh. “I’m supposed to get out from under their feet, so I came out to help you.” His gaze flew around, his cheeks bright red with excitement. He was tall for his age and had his mother’s striking blue eyes.

  “Is that right?” Henry ruffled Johnny’s sandy-blond hair. “That’s good. I can use the help. Did you like the ceremony? Your mother told me today was the first wedding you’ve attended.”