The Matchmaker of Fairfield: (Clean Historical Western Romance)

by Marie O'Keanan

  Besides being a few years older, Bridget was much taller than Ivy. Indeed, she was taller than most women Ivy knew. She also had a stocky build and a sharp angular face that made her quite the intimidating presence.

  Beyond even that, Bridget never seemed afraid of anything or anyone. She always seemed to speak her mind and was unable to understand why others did not do the same.

  With such a strong personality, it would have been easy for her to lord over Ivy. And, for all Ivy knew, that’s what she was doing.

  But, Ivy had been lorded over and dominated before and she didn’t feel that way in Bridget’s company. Unlike her horrible Aunt and Uncle who had always made her feel less than human back home, Bridget truly seemed to want to help Ivy.

  And, besides that, Ivy had told the truth when she said she did not at all mind taking the bar instead of tables. There were times when food serving became too much for Ivy. She became stressed easily and had no head for sums. She could handle the small amounts men paid for drinks at the bar. But the menu required a slightly more complex knowledge bank. Besides, the men seemed to like that someone was always at the bar when they needed another drink. Now, they didn’t have to stumble through tables of paying dinner customers to find a waitress.

  Mr. Bracken didn’t seem to realize this. His only response to the change so far had been annoyance, which, in turn, annoyed Bridget.

  “I don’t understand why he is being so difficult,” Bridget said as she fiercely began dusting the tables, readying them for the few customers that would soon visit the tavern.

  “It’s hard for him to accept change, I suppose,” Ivy said, moving behind the bar and placing clean glasses on it in place of the dirty ones.

  “Well, clearly, the way he was running the place before I arrived wasn’t working,” Bridget said defensively. “Why wouldn’t he want to change it?”

  Ivy simply shrugged. She knew it was useless to try and argue Mr. Bracken’s position to Bridget. Every time Ivy tried to get her to see things from his point of view; every time she brought up the fact that the tavern had been in the Bracken family for years; that Mr. Bracken’s mother still lived in the apartment above it; that Asa couldn’t stand the idea of anyone taking control of it beside him; Bridget had simply brushed the idea aside.

  In Bridget’s mind, Asa Bracken was a stubborn fool with no vision and that was all he would ever be. And, it was certainly no use pointing out that Bridget could be every bit as stubborn as Asa.

  Ivy took out the rag that sat in a small pail of soapy water behind the bar, lifted it and began to wipe the bar down slowly. When she looked up, she saw Bridget dusting the large table by the front window.

  That was Elijah Bellows table.

  Without meaning to, Ivy felt a small, secret smile creep across her face. She knew Elijah would come in today. Of course, he came in nearly every day. He would always order a drink and then ask Ivy to show him out back so they could check on “their girl”.

  The girl Elijah Bellows referred to as “theirs” was Rosie. The little black collie now a little over one year old.

  The poor pup had only been a few months old when Elijah had brought her into the tavern. Ivy still remembered it clearly. That was the first day she truly met Elijah Bellows.

  Of course, as she’d been working at the tavern for several weeks, she had seen him before. She knew his name. But, she had never talked to him, not really.

  That Thursday afternoon, it was raining. At around three o’clock the tavern was empty between the lunch and dinner service. Ivy was alone when Elijah burst in carrying a small bundle in his arms.

  She remembered jumping at the loud thud of the door and looking up to see Elijah, brown hair matted against his face, broad shoulders slumped and normally sparkling eyes wide with fear.

  “I need help,” he said immediately, moving quickly to the bar where Ivy was standing. “I think it’s hurt. I couldn’t find her mother.”

  He set the bundle on top of the bar and unfolded the towel to reveal a soaking wet ball of fur curled in on itself and making a high pitched whimpering sound.

  Ivy blinked twice before she realized the little ball of fur was, in fact, a puppy. She looked up at him as she felt her own eyes widen.

  “Where did you find it?” she asked.

  “Beside the Milliner's shop just across the street,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know where else to take him. The doctor is out visiting a patient. And I can’t take him to the mill. My brother’s deathly allergic to dogs. Besides, I’m not sure a logging mill is the best place for a pup. I thought...I thought you might be able to help.”

  He looked up at her and that was the first time Elijah Bellows caused her heart to turn over inside her chest.

  Trying her best to set the sensation aside, she looked back down at the little bundle. Thinking quickly, she took it in her arms.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  She led Elijah into the kitchen. Empty now. The chef wouldn’t return until four o’clock to begin prepping for the dinner service. She set the pup on the floor and kneeled down beside it. Elijah, likewise, kneeled beside her.

  “Do you think she’ll be ok?” he asked anxiously.

  She looked over at him slightly surprised by his concern. From the little she’d seen of him, he never seemed to take anything too seriously. He was always smiling and laughing or flirting with some of the girls.

  He looked different now that he wasn’t doing any of that. He looked more...genuine, she supposed would be the best word.

  She looked from him down the the small pup. She touched its skin gently in various places. The pup let out no squeal or sound of protest. Just continued to shake and whimper.

  “I think she’s just cold. Probably hungry too,” Ivy said finally, “Here.”

  She lifted herself from the seat and went over to the pan beside the oven. The cook, Mr. Crawl, always kept leftover scraps of chicken beside the oven. He usually threw them out after a day or so. She put a few of these on a plate and set them down in front of the pup.

  After a moment or so, the whimpering stopped. A wet nose came out of the ball and tentatively sniffed the plate in front of her. Slowly, the little black pup’s head popped up and her dark eyes seemed to light up at the promise of food.

  A moment later, the collie stood on her much too thin legs and began eating the chicken hungrily.

  Elijah’s smile returned and he let out what sounded like a laugh of relief.

  “I suppose there was nothing wrong that couldn’t be cured by a good meal, huh girl?”

  He scratched the dog behind her ears though, she gave no response as she was still too busy munching the chicken meat.

  “I don’t suppose we can just let her go back to the street after this,” Ivy said.

  “I wouldn’t want to,” Elijah answered. “It’s hard for a pup out there. Especially without a mother.”

  “I know that all too well,” Ivy said quietly. Her heart thudded as she tried her best not to remember the day her own mother had left her. The day that horrible flu took her away from Ivy.

  She looked back up at Elijah and tried to smile at him. But, when she did, she was surprised to find that he was looking at her thoughtfully.

  “I know it too,” he said finally. “I was four when my mother died. Rose was her name.”

  “My mother’s name was Anne,” Ivy said. She looked away from Elijah and began instead to stroke the puppies ears.

  “How old were you?” he asked.

  She looked up at him and saw that same intense look on his face. She couldn’t truly describe it except to say that it was something like hunger. As though he was saying something he’d wanted to say for a long time but, until now, had no one to say it to.

  “I was eight,” she admitted. “My father died before I was born. After my mother passed, I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle.”

  “At least you had family,” he said slightly derisively. She gave an ironic smile as she shook
her head.

  “I would hardly call my aunt and uncle family,” she said. “If you met them you would understand.

  They both looked down at the pup for a long moment. The little thing had finished her supper and turned to lick Ivy’s fingers. Ivy laughed and, when she looked up, she saw Elijah smile at her. Once again, she felt her heart perform a flip in her chest. He pursed his lips before speaking again.

  “We...my brother and I had our father but, he didn’t see us much after mama passed. We were mostly raised by nannies and governesses.”

  He looked up at her with a kind of haunted expression in his sparkling blue eyes. She felt a sudden urge to put her hand on his, or to put her arms around him and embrace him. If she did, at that moment, she was certain he would have welcomed it.

  But, she knew what that would mean both for a girl like her and a man like him. Poor girls simply did not embrace rich boys. It was not done.

  So, instead, she looked down at the pup and put on as care free a smile as she could muster when she turned her eyes back to Elijah.

  “Well, this little thing needs a name,” she said. “What do you think?”

  He looked from the little pup, who was now trying her best to crawl into Ivy’s lap and having little success, back to Ivy. He gave a small, sad smile when his eyes met hers.

  “I think we should call her Roseanne. In memory of the mother’s we’ve lost.”

  Ivy felt her heart perform another flip, this one, unlike the other’s was tinged with sadness. Once again, she forced it away and smiled back up at Elijah.

  “We’ll call her Rosie for short,” she said. He smiled at her in turn. This smile made his eyes brighten and caused Ivy’s heart to thud loudly inside her chest.

  Elijah stayed a bit after that to make up a small bed of old towels and grass under a covered portion of the tavern’s back porch.

  The next day, he came in to have a drink and check on Roseanne. And, he’d done so nearly every day since.

  Though they rarely talked as openly as they had that first time, Elijah was always friendly, always funny and always kind.

  Wednesday afternoons for lunch was the only time he came to eat and the only time he did not come alone. On Wednesdays he always came with his little brother, Mark or his friends from the mill.

  His was the one table that Bridget was, somehow, never able to serve. And, beginning last week, Ivy thought she suspected a pattern.

  “It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?” she heard Bridget ask.

  “Yes,” Ivy answered tentatively, thinking that she knew what was coming next.

  “That means Elijah Bellows will be in,” Bridget said.

  “I suppose so,” Ivy answered. As she did, she tried her best to sound nonchalant. All the same, she heard her voice shake just a bit with anticipation. She felt a blush line her cheeks. When she looked up, she saw Bridget giving her a secret smile.

  “Don’t start,” Ivy said in a warning tone.

  “Start what?” Bridget asked, innocently. “All, though, while you’re practicing telling people what you truly want, you could try speaking to Elijah Bellows today.”

  “I speak to him every time he comes in,” Ivy answered, again, trying to make her voice sound as light as possible. “I even take him outside to see Rosie.”

  “You know what I mean,” Bridget said. “Talking about a dog together is not the same as actually talking.”

  Ivy did not answer but looked down again at the rag and began to move it back and forth along the bar. She felt Bridget’s eyes on her a moment longer before she heard the girl heave a defeated sigh.

  Ivy’s shoulders relaxed a bit in relief.

  She knew what Bridget wanted Ivy to do. She wanted Ivy to tell Elijah Bellows what she’d already confessed to Bridget in the safety of their shared bedroom.

  She wanted Ivy to tell Elijah that she had fancied him ever since the first moment he sauntered into the tavern with his blue eyes and confident swagger.

  But, Ivy knew to make such an admission, she would only be setting herself up for embarrassment. It was true, Elijah did seem to enjoy flirting with her. And, once or twice, Ivy fancied that she’d seen real care for her in his eyes.

  But, if the rumors in town were to be believed, Elijah enjoyed flirting with a great many girls. And, what’s more, he’d even managed to convince several that he truly cared for them. Only to leave them for another at the earliest opportunity.

  Ivy would rather remain in the state of unspoken adoration than be used and tossed aside by yet another man. Lord knows she’d had her fill of that already.

  She had told all of this to Bridget. Ivy had tried, very hard to make her friend understand that confessing her affection for Elijah Bellows was simply not practical. Bridget, once again, brushed Ivy’s fears aside and continued to press her to reveal her feelings.

  When Ivy had refused, the older girl had reverted to stealth tactics. As Ivy glanced up at Bridget who had stopped wiping beside the far table, she had a feeling Bridget was about to employ these tactics once again.

  “Goodness,” Bridget said loudly. “My head is throbbing.”

  “Perhaps it’s due to lack of water,” Ivy ventured. Though she knew this wasn’t the case.

  “No,” Bridget said. “I think it maybe all the direct sunlight from the window. I’m not sure I can take much more of it.”

  Ivy braced herself for what she knew was coming.

  “Ivy, you wouldn’t mind serving the Bellows table again today, would you?” Bridget asked. “It’s so near the window, I don’t think my head could take it.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t mind,” Ivy said with a resigned sigh.

  “Oh, thank you so much,” Bridget said with a bright smile. “It will be a great help to me.”

  Almost as soon as Bridget said this, Ivy heard a very familiar, buoyant laugh sound from the other side of the tavern door. She felt her heart leap in her chest, as it always did when Elijah Bellows opened the front door and strode confidently into the tavern.

  He looked every bit as handsome as usual with his clean shaven face, short, curly blonde hair and those sparkling blue eyes.

  He was accompanied today, only by his younger brother, Mark. Mark was every bit as unremarkable as Elijah was striking. He was small, with nondescript brown hair, small brown eyes and slight stubble along his cheek.

  Even so, Ivy knew several girls who tried their best to win him over. Though, unlike Elijah, Mark hardly seemed interested in the attentions of the girls in town.

  As they sat at their usual table, Ivy felt her smile returning as she hurried towards them with the water pitcher and two glasses.

  “Ivy!” Elijah said jovially as soon as she reached them. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

  Ivy felt herself blush as she turned to smile at Elijah.

  “You see me every week,” she said. “My being here can hardly come as a surprise.”

  Elijah gave her that slightly cocky, flirty smile she’d become so familiar with. The one that was so different from the one he’d given her the day he brought her Rosie. Even so, Ivy felt her heart jump inside her chest at the sight of it.

  “Don’t worry about Elijah, Ivy,” he said. “To him, every girl in town is a sight for sore eyes.”

  “That’s not true,” Elijah said rolling his eyes at his brother. He turned back to Ivy with that same smile that made her heart beat quicker in her chest.

  “Only the pretty ones,” he finished with a wink at her.

  Ivy tried her best to stop her heart from beating too quickly. She swallowed hard and gave Elijah, what she hoped, looked like a natural smile in return.

  “And how is our girl?” he asked.

  “I’ll bet that dog is no worse off than when you saw her yesterday,” Mark said. “Honestly, I wish you would pay as much attention to the work at the mill as you do to that many pup.”

  “Rosie is not mangy,” Elijah said. Unlike the playful tone he’d used with his brother before
, Elijah sounded much more defensive now. He always did when his brother, who had never particularly cared for animals, took a jab at his dog.

  “Rosie’s fine, Elijah,” Ivy said hoping to avoid witnessing a confrontation between Elijah and his brother. She hated those as much as she hated the arguments between Bridget and Asa. “She just finished a full plate of chicken.”

  “Good to know,” Elijah said giving her a smile. This one, she knew, was his genuine smile. The one that he had shown her that first day she truly met him. This smile always made Ivy’s heart begin to beat madly inside her chest.

  “Would you boys like your usual?” Ivy asked in, what she hoped, was a neutral manner. Elijah and Mark both confirmed their order.

  “I’ll let the cook know,” Ivy said turning to leave.

  “Hurry back,” Elijah called to her. “I’ll be waiting.”

  She looked back over her shoulder at him and could not help but smile as he sent another wink her way. She felt heat race into her cheeks once more as she ducked back into the kitchen.

  She gave Mr. Crawl the Bellow’s order then left the kitchen only to stand against the wall just outside of it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in order to steel herself to go back into that dining room.

  This was why she both loved and dreaded serving Elijah Bellows. He always flirted with her, winked at her. He’d even brushed his hand against hers several times in a way that made her shiver just to think about.

  But, she knew none of it meant anything at all to him. Elijah Bellows had pretty girls throwing themselves at his feet every day. And, he flirted with all of them. She had seen him do it. Exactly the same way he flirted with Ivy.

  That was why Ivy could not allow herself to be taken in by him. She had to remain...friendly, certainly. But in a professional way. She had to be sure not to give any hint of herself away to him. But, that was difficult to remember when his laughing blue eyes were looking straight into hers, causing her heart to leap inside her chest.

  “Things seem to be going well.”

  Ivy jumped and gasped at the sudden voice. She had apparently been so lost in herself that she hadn’t noticed Bridget enter the room.