Second Chance Bride

by Jane Myers Perrine

  The fact that she both recognized and accepted the powerful attraction made her wish to flee, but she didn’t. He deserved more.

  “‘Thank you’?” he repeated. “What does that mean?” When she couldn’t answer, he continued, “My request cannot come as a surprise to you. Surely you’ve noticed the amount of time I’ve spent at the school just to see you. Can’t you read the interest in my face? Can’t you tell how I feel when I look at you?”

  “Yes, a little, but I didn’t…I didn’t understand. Not completely. I didn’t realize…” She stopped, unable to think of words to complete her thoughts. She couldn’t explain that, as much as he attracted her, in the end she would disappoint him. Who would want to court a former prostitute? And he would leave her when he found out.

  He studied her, his expression uncertain. “How do you feel about my wish to court you?”

  He was asking about how Annie felt? No, he wondered how Matilda felt. At the moment, neither woman could think of an answer.

  “I find you very attractive, but…” She shook her head. “My past, those experiences I mentioned…they make it hard for me.”

  “No?” He sounded surprised, obviously not expecting such a response.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He stood very still. She picked up the lamp and could see that his eyes were that flat, icy blue. “Then I shall wish you good evening, Matilda.” He bowed stiffly before he turned and mounted his horse.

  She watched him ride off. Had she done the right thing? He was handsome and rich and personable. She could easily fall in love with him, if she allowed herself to. If he courted her, if he asked her to marry him, Annie would become Mrs. John Matthew Sullivan, the wife of a rich man who would take care of her. Matilda might have welcomed his question and been able to assume that role, but Annie could not. Annie’s life was a lie. She could not compound the lie by hiding it from a husband.

  Awkward.

  No, that word barely fit the emotions John felt. Embarrassed? Mortified? Maybe those fit better. Humiliated described the feeling best. He’d hoped he’d found a woman he could care for, a first in his life. He had cared for his wife, but what he felt now was so different.

  He’d believed she hadn’t been averse to him. He almost laughed when he realized what he meant was that she hadn’t run away from him, that she had allowed herself to stand alone with him a few minutes in the dark. Obviously he had misunderstood everything she’d said and done, and had fooled himself into thinking there was or could be something between them.

  He gave Orion a gentle nudge with his heels and the horse sped up. What he needed was a long, hard run to clear his head, but it would be too dangerous to do at night.

  Her remarks were all that was proper but everything he hadn’t wanted to hear. He didn’t wish for her to throw herself at him as Amanda flirted so outrageously with the sheriff. He had hoped she’d answer his question with feminine deference, which would indicate she returned his interest and would be flattered to be courted.

  He drove into the stable yard and dismounted.

  “Good evenin’, boss.” Duffy held the reins. “You look as sad as a cow that lost her heifer.”

  Exactly what he wanted—for Duffy to identify his feelings. Now he felt like an old fool, acting as ridiculously about Matilda as Farley Hanson had. He straightened, said, “Evening, Duffy” and headed toward the house.

  After he kissed Elizabeth good-night, he went toward his bedroom, took off his coat and hung it on a chair.

  At least Hanson had found a woman in Fredericksburg. Maybe John should look for a mature widow.

  But he couldn’t do that. He felt too strong an emotion for Matilda. He’d always supposed that if he found the right woman, she would return his feelings. He’d never expected to be turned down. The rejection—perhaps lack of enthusiasm was more accurate—had cut him deeply. He leaned his forehead against the glass. He considered praying, but the God he worshipped didn’t expect John to come to Him with every little thing. His God expected John to take care of things himself, so he would.

  He could not have meant what he said.

  In an attempt to turn her thoughts from John, Annie had thrown herself into cleaning the schoolhouse. With the help of Minnie chasing after dust bunnies and scraps of paper, she’d swept the entire floor until not a speck of dirt or the tiniest bit of paper remained. Then she wet a cloth and scrubbed the surfaces of the desks and tables.

  By that time, she’d worn herself out. Yet his statement still echoed in her brain. He would like to court her.

  No, he would like to court Miss Matilda Cunningham.

  No man wanted to court Annie.

  What difference did that make? Everyone thought she was Matilda. She had thought of herself as Matilda for two months now and felt very comfortable in the role. She taught the children. She played the organ and attended church. She had discovered her faith and prayed.

  And Jesus had forgiven her.

  “Dear loving God.” She kneeled next to her desk. “Please help me. I know what I did was wrong, but it’s turned out so well. The students are learning—Miguel and Wilber are speeding along with their lessons—and people like me. They respect me. Is that wrong? I’m warm and happy and have food and I don’t have to—” she shuddered “—do those other things, those terrible things. Please guide me, dear Lord. Amen.”

  But she received no immediate answer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie had dreaded attending the Christmas Eve service with John. But when Duffy arrived with Elizabeth to drive her to church, she felt a stab of disappointment at John’s absence. Elizabeth announced that her father would be riding his horse down later.

  “Oh, Miss Cunningham, I hope my father bought me some books for Christmas and maybe pretty new clothes. A large parcel arrived yesterday.” The excited child held her arms out to show the dimensions. She chattered on during the short ride to town, speculating about what that package might contain.

  The women who decorated the church had placed candles in each window to guide the Christ child. Inside, tapers flickered in the wreaths and evergreen boughs, which decorated the plain pews and the pulpit. Annie had never seen anything so beautiful. She took her place at the organ and, as the congregation entered, she played the favorite songs of the season. She listened to the Christmas story from the Gospel of Matthew—oh, she’d read it herself last week, but to hear it in church, surrounded by the faithful, well, it was all so new, so marvelous. Her heart leaped when the minister proclaimed, “Christ is born,” and the congregation answered, “He is born this night.”

  For a moment she sat on the bench and watched the smiling congregation leaving, chatting and making plans, while she just wanted to take in the glory of this moment. Her Savior had been born. She was so absorbed in this realization that she didn’t notice when someone approached her.

  “Happy Christmas,” John said from a few feet away.

  “Oh, it is a very happy Christmas,” she agreed.

  “You look lovely tonight, Miss Cunningham.” He smiled at her. “You seem to be glowing.”

  “It is Christmas, sir.” She smiled. “Has there ever been a more wonderful day?” Then she stood to hug Elizabeth, who was almost asleep on her father’s shoulder. “Happy Christmas to you, Elizabeth.”

  The child gave her a drowsy nod. “Happy Christmas to my favorite teacher,” she said.

  Oh, yes. What a truly joyous night.

  The next day, Annie dressed in her brown skirt with the gold basque. She wore a new black-wool cape she’d bought as a Christmas gift for herself. It was plain with no fur trim, but it kept her warm. Then she put on her new bonnet—black with black and white lace ruffles around her face. She attempted to see herself in the glass but couldn’t quite make out her reflection. She could only hope she looked pretty. Oh, the bonnet wasn’t as dashing as the leghorn shade hat she’d seen in the catalog, but this one cost less and suited a serious teacher.

  She scratche
d Minnie under the chin, picked up the present she’d made for Amanda and started her walk to the Hansons’ ranch for Christmas dinner.

  Amanda had told her to ask John for a ride, but Annie hadn’t. She felt uncomfortable around him after what had happened between them. She’d tried to imagine a life with John, but she could see no way around telling him the truth. No matter how much she tried to pretend she was someone else, to believe that the good life she’d built here was real and true, she still knew her secret would have to come out. Even as kind as he was with Minnie and his horses and his daughter, he’d never forgive her for her past and her lies.

  So she would walk. It wasn’t a long distance and she’d be comfortable in her new, warm cape. Besides, with dinner at two, it would still be light and not too cold by the time she started home.

  When she arrived, carriages were being taken around to the stable by stable boys. She didn’t see John’s surrey. After she knocked, a maid opened the door, took her bonnet and cape, and Annie entered the front parlor.

  In a corner stood a Christmas tree, at least seven feet tall, covered with candles and a star on top. She moved slowly through the crowd, nodding at the other guests until she arrived at the tree. The ornaments were miniatures of animals, musical instruments and toys—a tiny wooden doll, a small intricately carved cat, a bugle. There were red and green glass balls, metal ornaments and cardboard pictures. Strings of berries wound through the branches.

  “Do you like it?” Amanda grasped Annie’s hand.

  “It is absolutely lovely, Amanda! Did you do this?”

  “You know I’m a useless creature.” Amanda laughed. “I pointed and told the servants what to do.”

  “Is the sheriff coming?” Annie whispered.

  “No.” She shook her head mournfully. “He said someone robbed the bank in Derth. He had to investigate it today. And maybe tomorrow. He wasn’t at all sure when he’d be back.” She frowned. “You don’t think he’s trying to get away from me, do you?”

  Annie paused and said, “Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I’m going to enjoy spending Christmas with you.”

  Amanda laughed. “You don’t want to answer, do you? Probably wise.”

  When the twenty guests took their places at the long table a few minutes later, Annie found herself between Mr. Tripp and Mr. Norton. Amanda sat at one end of the table, facing her father with John on her right. Elizabeth sat with the other children at a table in another room.

  As she took a sip of water, Annie glanced toward John. He looked so handsome in formal wear, his black coat a perfect fit on his solid shoulders, highlighting the darkness of his hair and the blue of his eyes. He’d nodded at her earlier in the evening but they’d not spoken.

  After Mr. Hanson prayed, the servants began serving. The table almost shook with the weight of ham, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, squash and many other treats that covered it.

  Games followed the delicious meal, the last being the cobweb game. Ribbons of different colors hung from the ceiling, making a brilliant design. The end of each ribbon disappeared into the other parlor or down the hallway. Some went upstairs while others wound under furniture and doors.

  “Take that one,” Amanda whispered. “The red one with the white lace.”

  Startled, Annie did as she was told, taking the ribbon and attempting to untangle it—not easy with everyone else concentrating on the same task. A few minutes later, she found herself following her ribbon up the stairs and down the hall. It led to a closed door. She knocked, received no response and she stepped inside. The ribbon went under the bed so she knelt down and reached under the ruffles of the bed skirt where, after much searching, she felt a small box. Inside, she found a pair of earrings, each a graceful spiral of dark gold.

  “What do you think?” Annie looked up to see Amanda at the door.

  “They are lovely, but I can’t accept them.”

  Amanda waved her hand. “Of course you can. You found them in the game.”

  “But you told me which ribbon—”

  “Can you imagine how Mr. Johnson would look in those earrings?”

  Annie laughed. When Amanda had her mind made up, no one could change it.

  “Let me put them on you.” Amanda assisted her and said, “Now, look in the mirror. Don’t they look nice?”

  Annie examined her reflection. Who was the woman who stared back at her? She was much prettier than she remembered, with her hair so full and shiny, set off by the dangling earrings and the warm golden color of her basque. “Thank you.” With a laugh, she turned toward her friend. “I have a present for you.” Annie pulled Amanda to the parlor and opened her purse. “Not nearly as grand.”

  Amanda pulled the paper off to reveal a handkerchief that Annie had embroidered with her friend’s initials. She’d sewed lace around the edges using the tiniest stitches she could.

  “You made this for me.” Amanda hugged Annie. “It means so much to me. Thank you.”

  After all the guests had found their gifts, they gathered in the parlor to show them off. Annie glanced at her watch. Almost five o’clock. It would be dark before six. She started toward Amanda to tell her she needed to leave when Mr. Hanson said, “Let’s sing some Christmas songs. Miss Cunningham,” he said, bowing toward her, “would you play for us?”

  Annie sat at the beautiful square piano with intricately carved legs. “I don’t know very many.”

  “I’ll stand right here and sing,” Amanda said.

  After singing “Jingle Bells” and attempting to remember the words of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” Annie pushed the bench back and stood.

  “I have to leave,” she whispered to Amanda. “I walked.”

  “Matilda, you cannot walk home now.” Amanda looked out the window. “It’s too dark and too cold. John,” she said, turning to the group of guests, “would you drive Matilda back to the schoolhouse? She walked and it’s far too late for her to walk back.”

  Everyone in the parlor looked up at John, who showed no reaction to the request. “Of course.” He inclined his head a bit. “I wouldn’t want our schoolteacher to get lost or ill.” He turned toward his daughter. “Elizabeth?”

  “May I stay here?” Elizabeth waved toward a girl of the same age. “Agatha is visiting for a few days. She wants me to spend the night with her.”

  John blinked. Annie guessed he was considering the discomfort of driving alone with the woman who had been so unenthusiastic about his request to court her. No one else seemed to realize his reluctance.

  “I’ll be fine. I walked here. It isn’t far. Please don’t leave early. Stay and enjoy the party.” Annie hastened to the hall and took her cape from the servant there, scrambling toward the door. Not a very ladylike action, but she wanted to leave quickly. She did not want to be alone with John, not when her attraction for him warred with reality, leaving her so nervous and bewildered.

  “Matilda, I must insist,” he said from the hall. He wore his solemn expression and his eyes—although not icy—were certainly not warm. “It has become much colder over the hours we spent inside.”

  Annie opened the door. A gust of icy wind hit her, tugging at her hat and swirling her cape around her. Immediately, her eyes began to water and she shivered. She pulled her hood over her head in an attempt to keep her new hat in place and tried to hold the cape closed with her other hand.

  “Amanda has already sent someone to the stable for my carriage. It will be around shortly. Why don’t we wait inside in the warmth?”

  Annie couldn’t see to the end of the drive in the dark, and the cold wind cut to the bone. As much as she hated to do it, she said, “Yes, thank you, John.”

  Once inside the house again, Annie settled on a bench beside a window while John stood in the entry area and, after taking his coat from the maid, watched for the carriage.

  “Why didn’t you ask me for a ride to the party?” he said. “Certainly you knew I’d have been happy to stop for you.”

  �
�I didn’t know if…if it would be comfortable.”

  “Certainly more comfortable than attempting to walk home on such a cold, windy evening.”

  “Sometimes I don’t plan well.” She realized she probably shouldn’t have said that. His idea of a teacher probably included the ability to plan well.

  “Aah. Exactly the kind of person I like. People who make plans often end up boring, but people who run off in the cold and dark often end up…frozen.”

  She glanced at him. Had he made a joke? She rather thought he had. She smiled.

  For a few seconds, he watched her with the gaze he had turned on her before—warm, but showing as much puzzlement as she felt.

  “I believe our transportation has arrived.” He opened the door, followed her out and held out his arm to hand her into a covered carriage. Although open in the front, the roof and sides kept the wind off. Once she had settled on the seat, she discovered a warm brick under her feet. What luxury.

  After he got in on the other side and accepted the reins from the stable boy, they rode in silence.

  “John.” She paused in an effort to gather her thoughts. He deserved an explanation for her odd behavior. “John, I’m sorry for my ungracious answer when you asked what…what you asked. You see, I have no experience with this sort of thing.” She paused. “I’ve never received a request to be courted.”

  “The men from Houston must be very slow.”

  She heard a note of laughter in his voice.

  “Nor have I ever met a man like you.”

  “What does that mean?” He turned to look at her intently.

  “So very upright at times, but so different, so considerate with your daughter, and with animals…and very often with me.”