Problem was he’d given up on hope a long time ago, at least in terms of himself. For his daughters, that was another story. He had countless dreams for them. It was a real shame Ellie wanted a love match, while he only wanted friendship.
“Good morning, Caleb.”
“Good morning.” He stepped aside to let her enter his house. A blast of cold air followed in her wake.
He quickly shut the door. After a cursory glance over the main living area, then a peek in the kitchen, Ellie focused her blue-blue eyes on him. “Where are the girls?”
“Still asleep.” He hitched his chin toward the hallway behind her. “They were so excited about the prospect of spending the entire day with you that I had a hard time getting them settled last night.”
Her widening smile suggested this piece of information pleased her.
“Probably best to let them rest. I have big plans for us today. I even brought supplies.” She showed him the large carpetbag slung over her shoulder. “You won’t recognize your home when you return tonight.”
Curious, he leaned over and attempted to glimpse inside the large tote. “What do you have in there?”
“A little of this, a little of that, all of which will require eager hands and resourceful minds.”
“Sounds fun.”
“That’s the general idea.”
He laughed. She joined in, and for the first time in months Caleb’s chest felt less tight, his heart beat easier in his chest.
“How about giving me a quick introduction to your home?”
“Follow me.” He dedicated the next ten minutes to showing her around the house, pointing out various places of interest.
Lastly, he escorted her into the room off the kitchen where the family’s coats hung on pegs.
Tour complete, he reached for his hat. “I’ll try to come home before sunset.”
“You’re leaving? Now?” She circled her gaze around the kitchen, stopping at the stove tucked in the early morning shadows. “But you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”
“I’ll grab something at the Whistle Stop Inn.”
“Are you certain? I could make oatmeal.”
He was tempted, but decided to stick to his regular routine. No good would come from relying too much on Ellie, even for something as simple as an early morning meal.
“I need to get to the jail and relieve Deputy Kramer,” he said by way of excuse.
Two minutes later, dressed for the cold weather, Caleb trekked through the biting wind. His first stop was the livery stables three blocks south of where he lived.
Gideon greeted him with a toss of his regal head and a whinny that shook the rafters.
Caleb was just as pleased to see the horse.
The rest of the day went as expected. He ate a quick breakfast, checked on nearby ranches, then stopped in at each of the local businesses.
In the afternoon, he broke up a heated argument between the cooper and blacksmith that had begun over signage. Near the end of his shift, just as Prescott arrived to take over for him, Caleb dragged Skeeter Quinn, the town drunk, out of an empty horse trough, where the grizzled old man had decided to “take a little lie down”—Skeeter’s words.
Skeeter was far from pleased over his interrupted nap and proceeded to make his displeasure known at the top of his lungs.
His own temper turning dark, Caleb decided to lock up the blustering old coot in a jail cell to dry out. As expected, Skeeter turned even more belligerent the moment the door clanked shut. He continued ranting for a good five minutes then wore himself out and promptly passed out on the lone cot.
Caleb rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and studied the snoring form. Sprawled out on the cot, his head listing to port, Skeeter looked—and sounded—entirely too much like Caleb’s father in his final days.
“Keep an eye on Skeeter,” he told Prescott. “I’ll hunt down his son and send him over to collect him.”
“No problem, Sheriff.”
Skeeter snorted in his sleep, then took to mumbling over some incomprehensible grievance.
Caleb headed for the door.
“Hey, Sheriff,” Prescott called after him, a curious note in his voice. “I was wondering if you knew whether or not Ellie Wainwright had any plans for—”
“She’s unavailable.” To punctuate his point, Caleb turned and scowled at the deputy.
Prescott’s amused gaze held his. “How do you know?”
“I know.”
The deputy chuckled low in his throat. “You really aren’t going to introduce me to her?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Come on, Sheriff. I heard she’s sweet. Word around town is that no one’s officially courting her. Surely she would want to meet—”
Caleb slammed the door on the rest of whatever Prescott had to say.
His temper escalating yet again, he set out north of town where Skeeter’s son, Billie, lived. A block into his journey, he heard his name. “Sheriff Voss, Sheriff Voss, I have news.”
Glancing in the direction of the voice, he caught sight of Mrs. Jenson waving a letter high above her head.
Trepidation marched along his spine. Nevertheless, Caleb crossed the street with clipped strides and greeted the woman with a tentative smile.
Short, scarecrow thin, with gray-streaked black hair twisted in a knot at the nape of her neck, she wore too many ruffles, layers upon layers of lace and a self-satisfied smile.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Jenson. You’re looking rather…” He searched for the proper adjective. “Gleeful.”
“That’s because this arrived in the post today.” She lowered her hand and proceeded to wave the small stack of papers beneath Caleb’s nose. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve found your bride.”
This was the exact information he’d been waiting for, yet Caleb couldn’t drum up any real enthusiasm.
His silence didn’t seem to deter the woman. “Her name is Sadie Taylor.”
He didn’t know what to say. But the look of expectancy on Mrs. Jenson’s face suggested she was waiting for him to respond. “That’s a…ah, nice name?”
This earned him a nod of approval. “Isn’t it?
“According to her letter…” The older woman skimmed the front page a moment. “She’s twenty-two years old, recently widowed, with no children of her own. She lives in Blue Springs, Missouri, and is a schoolteacher.”
Caleb’s mind went straight to another schoolteacher, the one back at his house taking care of his daughters and providing them a “Christmas with all the trappings, one they won’t soon forget.”
“There’s only one concern.” Mrs. Jenson’s tone filled with distress. “Mrs. Taylor won’t be able to make the journey to Thunder Ridge until after the school year is complete.”
Caleb couldn’t tell if the hitch in his breath was disappointment or relief. Probably a little of both. “I’d hoped to marry before then.”
“Yes, I know, dear.” Mrs. Jenson patted his forearm. “But I warned you these things take time.”
He frowned.
“Now, now, my boy, there’s no cause for despair. Of all the letters I’ve received in response to my advertisement, Mrs. Taylor is the most suitable and has agreed to your stipulation of a marriage in name only.”
Caleb considered this vital piece of information. Sadie Taylor of Blue Springs, Missouri, sounded perfect for his future bride.
Where was the relief? The pleasure?
“And here’s a bit of heartening news.” Mrs. Jenson looked up from the letter. “Mrs. Taylor’s father is a preacher in their small town.”
What were the odds?
The woman who supposedly suited him best was a twenty-two-year-old schoolteacher whose father was a preacher. Sounded exactly like someone else Caleb knew, save for one glaring difference. Ellie wanted more than a marriage of convenience.
“Well, then.” Mrs. Jenson folded the letter in half. “Shall I continue my search? Or should I tell Mrs. Taylor to make the jou
rney to Thunder Ridge?”
Caleb thought of his daughters, of the disorder they’d suffered most of their lives. Hannah and Grace needed a mother. Sadie Taylor fit his requirements.
Under the circumstances, there was only one answer to Mrs. Jenson’s question. “Tell her to come as soon as possible.”
Chapter Seven
Later that afternoon, Ellie knew the exact moment Caleb entered the house through the back door. Her awareness had nothing to do with the amount of noise he made banging snow off his boots. The very air in the kitchen changed.
“Papa’s home, Papa’s home,” Grace announced at the top of her lungs.
Hannah repeated the mantra, her voice pitched an entire octave higher than her sister’s.
The urge to join the girls in their happy, squealing enthusiasm came alive inside Ellie. She resisted, barely.
Setting aside the spoon in her hand, Ellie looked over her shoulder. In walked Caleb, dressed in black from head to toe, his face red from the cold, his hair attractively mussed from a recent finger-combing.
Ellie’s heart raced. Her palms went damp. Her brain emptied of thought. Oh, my.
Bouncing on their toes, Grace and Hannah vied for their father’s attention, each attempting to tell him about their day.
Caleb divided his attention between both girls. He even made comments and asked questions, somehow able to discern their fast chatter.
As Ellie watched him interact with his daughters, she fell a little in love with him. He was such a good man, a devoted father. Her knees wobbled. They actually wobbled.
Would she ever grow used to that handsome face, that tall, lean frame, that bronze, sun-kissed hair? Surely, in time, the sight of him would become familiar enough that her stomach would no longer roll and dip whenever he was near.
Caleb’s gaze shifted from his daughters to Ellie, his fatherly attentiveness replaced with something far more adult, something solely for her.
Oh, my.
Pulse roaring in her ears, she quickly looked away, but not before she caught the boyish grin he flashed in her direction. “Something smells good.”
“We made soup,” Hannah announced.
Footsteps sounded on the kitchen floor. “What kind of soup?”
This time, Grace answered his question. “Vegetable.”
“No kidding?” He approached Ellie, coming so close she was forced to look up. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt thinner, her head lighter.
“Vegetable soup is my favorite.”
“I remember,” she managed to say past the tightness in her throat.
The look of pleasure in his eyes transported her back in time, to the many days Caleb had spent at her house, to the thrill she’d experienced whenever her mother told her to set an extra place at the supper table for him.
Her heart skipped a beat as memories collided into one another. She nearly rolled her eyes at herself. This was Caleb. Everett’s childhood friend.
Her friend, too, the man who’d asked her to marry him because of their history and longtime acquaintance.
Friendship lasts forever, he’d told her. Perhaps that was true, but it wasn’t enough for Ellie, not nearly enough.
Why couldn’t he love her, just a little?
“Supper will be ready in a few minutes,” she said, relieved her voice came out smooth and steady.
Smooth and steady. That was her, all right. Steady Ellie.
She thought she might cry.
Obviously unaware of her inner turmoil, Caleb peered over the edge of the pot. “What can I do to help?”
“I have everything under control here.” Well, of course she had everything under control, seeing as she was so steady.
“Can we show Papa what we did today?”
Happy for the interruption, Ellie smoothed her hand over Grace’s light brown hair. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
Back to battling for their father’s attention, each girl took one of Caleb’s hands and, together, they tugged him toward the living room.
Wanting to see his reaction, Ellie followed the trio, her eyes solely on Caleb.
Barely three steps into the room, his feet ground to a halt. He looked left, then right, then left again. “You’ve been busy.” At the sound of wonder in his voice Ellie’s stomach hit her toes.
Trying to take in the room from his perspective, she moved in beside him. “We still have more to do, but we’ve made a good start.”
“It’s so much more than I imagined.”
No longer fighting with one another, the twins took turns narrating the events of the day.
“We cut out paper snowflakes and stars, which took all morning, and then we made those.” Hannah pointed out the paper decorations on the wall and the green sprigs that lined the mantelpiece.
Grace hurried to the center of the room and showed off the three large washtubs they’d filled with branches, pinecones and sprigs of holly.
When the girls finished giving the detailed story behind each decoration, Caleb came up to Ellie, took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”
The simple gratitude made her knees wobble again. Stupid knees. “It was my pleasure.”
She couldn’t make herself look away from his handsome face.
They were having a moment, and Ellie thought she might lose her breath completely. How was she supposed to remember they were friends when Caleb looked at her with such affection, such warmth?
Ellie had a desperate, all-consuming need to make this man happy, to fill his life with joy and laughter. And love. Most of all, love. She had so much to give.
She quickly broke eye contact; it was either that or sigh wistfully.
Releasing her hand, Caleb sent the girls to wash up for supper. Clearly reluctant to leave, they exited the room at the speed of snail.
Ellie tried not to let her heart fill with love for them. Had she learned nothing from her experience with Monroe? She’d failed to keep up her guard. Already, she adored the twins more than she should. They were sweet and eager to please and had so much of Caleb in them.
“You’re a good father,” she said once they were alone.
The smile he gave her transformed his face, softening the bold lines and angles. Caleb was already ridiculously attractive. That smile only made him more so.
Ellie gave in to that sigh after all. “We’ll string popcorn and cranberries tomorrow. I was thinking of baking cookies the day after that, and then,” she said as she swung her gaze back to his, “there’s the matter of a tree.”
“I’ll take care of cutting one down this week.”
“That would be lovely.” She clasped her hands together at her waist. “Speaking of trees…”
She hesitated, hoping she wasn’t overstepping, then reminded herself he’d put her in charge of giving his girls a happy Christmas.
“Go on,” he urged.
“What do you say about possibly, maybe, entering the annual tree-decorating contest in town?”
The event had been a tradition in Thunder Ridge since Ellie was a young girl. In her mind, the contest, with its cheerful feel and good-natured competition, marked the beginning of the Christmas season.
“The children and I have never entered the contest.”
“Never?”
He shook his head.
Oh, Caleb. Sympathy squeezed in Ellie’s heart. This man and his daughters had missed out on so much. It was as though they’d lived in Thunder Ridge, yet not really been a part of the community.
“There’s nothing quite like competing for the gold star.” The winning family received a beautiful topper for their tree at home.
“The contest is tomorrow evening. I would think it’s too late to enter at this point.”
“It’s never too late,” Ellie said, her voice softening, her heart opening a little more to this man.
She thought of the time Caleb had joined her family in the contest. She’d been seven, he twelve. Caleb had lifted Ellie onto his shoulders so sh
e could put ornaments on the highest branches. They hadn’t won the contest that year, but Ellie hadn’t minded. She’d been too thrilled that Caleb was there.
So many of the happy memories from her childhood included this man.
“There’s no official entry process,” she said, determined to focus on the present rather than the past. “Families simply show up at the center of town and are assigned a tree. It’s no more complicated than that.”
He looked at her for a long, wordless moment.
Ellie had to set her jaw against the quiver of impatience racing through her. “Well? Do you want to enter the contest with the girls this year?”
“Will you be joining us?”
She grinned at the absurd question. “Goes without saying.”
Another wordless moment passed between them. “Why not? Could be fun.”
“Is that a yes?”
Caleb smiled, slowly, devastatingly. Oh, my. “It’s a yes.”
*
The next evening, a light southern breeze rippled through the center of town, bringing with it a break from the bitter cold. A full moon hung in the cloudless sky, providing a soft, pale glow over the town. Strategically placed torches added additional light.
Nearly two dozen pine trees lined the town square.
With a critical eye, Ellie studied the tree assigned to her and the Voss family. The girls stared up at her, waiting for her to tell them what to do. Caleb was also silent, evidently allowing Ellie to take the lead.
She considered a few options.
The sound of several different conversations filled the air, a sure sign that other contestants were contemplating their strategy. In an effort to keep the competition fair for all, no one was allowed to start hanging ornaments until seven o’clock sharp.
Several of the more jolly groups sang Christmas carols.
Ellie hummed along while her mind debated two distinct plans of attack. She really wanted to win this year, for Caleb and the girls. And maybe even for herself.
Her failure in Colorado Springs still stung. She desperately needed to accomplish something good, something positive.
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 51
