Clare’s hand lingered on his arm, and the urge to draw her into an embrace rose within him. However, with emotions running like a river in spring, he knew they didn’t need to muddy the waters with confusing attraction.
He felt something icy settle in his chest. Regret?
From the kitchen, he could hear the boys finishing their chores. His thoughts went immediately to their misbehaving, of Clare’s notion that they were merely missing their parents and acting out their grief. She was trying her best to understand them.
Clare leaned closer and he thought of how lovely her dark, velvety eyes looked. How flawless her skin was. Would it feel soft to the touch? She said, in a hushed tone, “If Miss Worth brings up any of this, please don’t say anything. She’s been good to me in her own unique way, and I don’t want her to think that I don’t appreciate all she’s done.”
He swallowed. Another secret. Elizabeth had asked him to lie about who’d ended their engagement, so that she would not be seen as a spurned woman. He’d agreed not to contradict it because he had been leaving and had felt guilty. It had been wrong, and he’d since asked God for forgiveness, but the request lingered like sour milk in his stomach.
He should do something about the lie he’d allowed Elizabeth to concoct and spread, but he was nearly two thousand miles away and had used the distance as an excuse.
Lord, how am I to correct this lie?
Now Clare had asked him to keep another secret, and as understandable as it was, the idea still unsettled him.
“I appreciate all you’ve done, Noah. All your sacrifices and even the wisdom in handling Miss Worth. I know we’ll have a unique marriage, but I don’t think sacrifice and honesty will be a problem.”
Chilled suddenly, Noah stepped back. To tell Clare the truth would betray his promise to Elizabeth. But if he confided what Elizabeth had requested, that she had ended their engagement, he’d be lying to Clare.
He couldn’t do that, either.
Clare had no idea how this life together was really starting.
A life together? Neither had even told the other if they liked each other, let alone said that they would love and whatever else Pastor Wyseman would have them promise in their vows.
“I’m not noble. Nor am I self-sacrificing,” he muttered. “I’ve told you that before.”
“You’re being modest,” she murmured back.
He cleared his throat. “I’m hardly that. So don’t say it.” His tone sounded clipped and critical, even to his own ears.
* * *
Clare stilled. Noah’s tone had chilled, like when the winds descended from the north after a warm day in the middle of winter, and everything around them froze solid.
“Don’t start thinking I’m someone who goes around saving people,” Noah bit out. “I’m not that kind of person.”
Such cool detachment smacked Clare across her face. Why did he say that? What kind of person was she marrying? As a girl, she’d dreamed of her wedding, a never-ending marriage with the love of her life, and all the lace and frothy sweetness that went along with such a childish dream.
But at college, she’d awoken to the desire to remain single and independent. She wanted to be like Miss Worth, preparing herself for a time when women were entitled to do as they pleased.
She was getting neither. Worse, she was dragging a fine man down with her, despite his humble assertions that he wasn’t so wonderful a person as she thought.
Regret filled her. Noah had only wanted to help her in her time of need, but now he would never experience any kind of loving marriage, either.
Clearing her throat, Clare swept from the room and headed back into the kitchen. Tim and Leo had just finished off their chore of putting away the dishes.
She’d almost forgotten about them, they were so quiet. Normally she’d have scouted them out to see what mischief they were getting into, but for those few minutes in the boys’ new bedroom, she’d forgotten them.
Pulling in a breath, she turned to Noah, who’d followed her. She tried to keep her voice as cool and detached as he’d kept his. “The twenty-first of April is a Friday,” she reminded him. “We’re getting married on a workday.”
“I’ll make arrangements with Pooley to see if he can stay by himself for the day. There shouldn’t be a problem. Mayor Wilson agreed to oversee the Recording Office in the governor’s stead while it’s here in Proud Bend, so I’ll talk to him.” He paused, watching her with those intense blue eyes. “Friday will work out.”
“What are you going to do on Friday?”
Clare looked down. Leo had slipped up beside her and was staring into her face with the wide-eyed innocence that had curried many a favor from her in the past. Like her, he had soft brown eyes, something one should see on a spaniel instead of a child.
She cleared her throat. “Mr. Livingstone and I are getting married. Don’t you remember how we discussed this? The wedding will be this Friday.”
“You said Noah is noble,” Tim said. “Miss Thompson told us noble people are knights. Is Noah a knight?”
Despite the tension in the room, Clare smiled. “In a way he is.”
But when she looked up at Noah again, his expression had darkened and her heart sank.
Chapter Thirteen
Noah scraped a chair across the floor as he stood to set about boiling water for tea. He had some gingerbread already sliced in the pantry. He’d meant to offer it to the boys at lunch, but had forgotten. They’d stuffed themselves with griddle cakes and potatoes anyway.
He cringed. Was Clare going to tell everyone in town he was so noble, so gallant in taking on the job of raising Proud Bend’s most infamous mischief makers?
How was he going to look anyone in the eye?
Never mind. Clare wouldn’t be going around regaling townsfolk with stories of his gallantry anyway. That would bring up the whole reason why Noah had proposed to her, and he was starting to understand his fiancée’s logic. She didn’t want her father to look bad, despite the fact that he really had left them in the lurch. She might be upset with him herself, but she wouldn’t want anyone else to be.
“I don’t want to stay here tonight,” Tim whined as he stared at her. “I want to go home with you.”
Disappointment shot through Noah as he moved to retrieve the gingerbread he’d made. He’d hoped the brothers would see living here as an adventure. Perhaps the season was wrong. After all, the days were still short and the winds could still be raw.
“But you’ll need to return here later this week anyway.”
“Why?” Tim asked.
“Because we’re moving here. I’m marrying Noah and we need to live here. I need to rent out our house.”
“To that lady who came?” Leo asked.
Clare hesitated. “No. She’s just a friend from college and she’ll be leaving soon.”
Noah set the plate of gingerbread in front of the boys. He then pulled up a chair and caught their attention. “Boys, everything will work out, but we all need to do our part. You’ve been good here so far, and you’ve done your chores admirably. I know you’ll try your very best to behave for me until Clare comes. You have each other and that’s what’s important now. If you try your very best this coming week, we’ll do something special.”
Leo glanced at the gingerbread. “Like what?”
Noah thought a moment. “Let’s see. Today is Sunday. We’ll have a picnic. We’ll get a cake and hot cocoa and eat them somewhere special.”
“Where?”
Noah wasn’t sure where. He’d been in Proud Bend for just over two years, but apart from the church picnics that took place on the surrounding grounds, he’d done nothing “special.”
“At the bandstand,” Clare inserted quickly. “This Wednesday.”
Noah’s bro
ws shot up. “Wednesday?”
She nodded. “Yes, for a number of reasons. I’ve learned that their teacher is planning to close the school that afternoon, as she has an appointment somewhere. We can use our lunch hour. And Miss Worth told me over our lunch that she’ll be leaving on Thursday. We should do something special while she’s here.”
“Our lunch is only thirty minutes long,” Noah warned.
She thought for a moment. “We’ll work through our lunch on Tuesday and give Mr. Pooley a full hour, then. On Wednesday, he can work the full hour. He’ll understand once we tell him why.” She stood and began to prepare the tea. Before rising to help Clare, Noah watched the boys reach for the gingerbread. Then, following her into his pantry, he reached above her head for the tin of tea.
“It’s a wonderful idea,” Clare said softly, glancing back at her brothers. “I can see how much better they are just being here for a short time. You know how to handle them.”
Noah stalled as he brought down the tea. Was that what he was doing? Handling them, as he would Turnip?
It had been a natural reaction. Turnip needed gentle care, healing after years of abuse. Although Tim and Leo weren’t abused, they responded to the same strategy. One of kindness, gentleness and love.
Could he do that with Clare?
Perhaps, but with resentment still lingering in her, it was unlikely they’d ever get past where they were right now.
Which was what? Nothing but a cordial working relationship?
No wonder she resented him and her father. That was all her life was going to be.
He stared back into Clare’s warm, chestnut eyes. What had she said? Something about how well he handled the boys.
“I know it’s difficult right now,” he said. “But it will all work out. You’re doing right by your brothers.”
“Even though you still don’t think I should have told them about our parents?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to,” she said as she took the tea tin. “I felt it in the air. You would have preferred I wait.”
“There’s no way around it. I see that now. You wouldn’t have been able to get married without people, Tim and Leo included, asking why you’re not waiting for your parents to return.” He felt his jaw tighten as he realized what else would happen. “I just dislike how it could cause rumors.”
She colored, an attractive flush caused by something he shouldn’t have said, but what needed to be said. “Be strong, Clare. You’re doing the right thing.”
“For my brothers, yes. What about for you?” She flared. “Am I ruining all your plans for your life? Am I asking too much of you?”
Her words were so familiar they stung. He hesitated, and that moment betrayed him. Her eyes welled with tears. She smacked down the tea tin and brushed past him. “Eat up, boys. We’re going home.”
Leo swung around, his mouth full of gingerbread.
“Are you mad at us, Clare?” Tim asked. “We didn’t do anything.”
Leo swallowed fast. “Are you still going to get married?”
She shot Noah a fast look. Fresh tears glistened, and her voice was as tight as her new smile. “I’m not mad. Of course, we’re getting married. But it’s complicated and you don’t need to be worrying.”
Noah caught her arm. “Clare, there’s no need to take the boys.”
She set her shoulders back and he knew right then that he would not be able to change her mind. “Please don’t tell me what I should do. And let me go. I need to hitch up the wagon.”
“I’ll do it. Your horse is in the paddock with Turnip and I don’t want you in there.”
Trying to brush off the disappointment weighing on him, Noah strode outside and set about hitching her horse. As he adjusted the traces, he looked over his shoulder. Clare had marched into the stable to retrieve her brothers’ jackets. The pony would have to wait until another time to get used to the boys.
He would also have to wait to try again to convince Clare they were going to be fine.
* * *
The next morning, Clare walked Tim and Leo to the Recording Office. They could play outside quietly until the school bell rang. Clare didn’t care that some in town might think she should not be working during this time. She had a wage to earn, for surely she was going to pull her weight in her upcoming marriage.
At the thought of being married to Noah, her heart flipped. Nerves, she told herself. Especially after that testy goodbye late yesterday afternoon.
Thanks to Miss Worth, Clare had been far more organized this morning. Even the boys had been either too nervous around the older woman or had actually heard and heeded Noah’s warning yesterday. They behaved themselves at breakfast. Of course, Miss Worth had risen earlier than everyone else had and had carved some slices off a nice slab of the bacon Noah had bought. The tantalizing scent had reached the boys and had easily coaxed them from their bed.
Clare had decided the boys should go to school. For now, perhaps staying to a normal routine was the best thing to do.
She’d also reminded them of the planned picnic.
Clare paused. Perhaps the event was too festive considering her recent loss, but again, the idea of a diversion—a bribe—might help her brothers. It was only a lunch, eaten at the bandstand. It wasn’t as though they would be dancing in the streets.
It would have a cake that Noah planned to buy. With hot cocoa.
Oh, dear. A cake was too festive. Miss Worth was right.
For all her opinions and criticisms, the woman wasn’t above buckling down and pulling her weight. Over breakfast, she’d assured Clare she would be fine alone for the day. Clare needed to go to work.
Grateful that Miss Worth had reminded her that hard work was the best thing for her right now, Clare had escaped the house early. When they reached the office, the boys stood at the edge of the wooden sidewalk, periodically dipping their shoes down to kick at an errant piece of slag that had been spread along the length of the street. She was about to tell them to keep their shoes clean when she spied Noah round the corner. He often kept his horse at the stable behind the sheriff’s office and walked the rest of the way.
“You’re early,” he commented, pulling out his key.
Clare was thankful he didn’t raise the subject of taking back the boys. “Miss Worth is far more organized in the morning than I will ever be.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I would guess she was the first up, too.”
Clare smiled, thankful that he was willing to forget yesterday’s cross words. They should talk about it, but when? They shouldn’t use their work hours.
She mentally set the quandary aside, promising herself she’d deal with it later. “Miss Worth even warmed up the house and cooked breakfast.”
“Back home, we don’t warm a house that’s mourning.”
“True, but Miss Worth isn’t one to stand on ceremony, and it’s hard to coax people from their beds if the house is cold.” Seeing his doubtful look, Clare shook her head. “She really isn’t a terrible woman. She’s just tough and uncompromising in her values. But she would never expect me to do something she wasn’t willing to do first.”
“What does she do for a living anyway? Mentoring doesn’t pay the bills.”
“She’s a professor at my college. She taught Literature and was our matron for several years. At the end of the winter semester, she decided to take a sabbatical.”
“What does she plan to do?”
“She wants to return to the classroom to study history.” Clare had always enjoyed the sciences and had actually considered remaining at school to earn her master’s degree. She’d wanted to be one of Colorado’s first women to earn a master’s degree.
It hadn’t happened. This time last year, she had been preparing to be
her class valedictorian. It had been a great honor, and it had taken her weeks to prepare for it, but after graduation, she’d visited her father’s family. Before her train had left his town, her uncle had approached Mitch MacLeod and asked him and Victoria to travel with her. That was last year, when Victoria was traveling with Mitch’s family to Proud Bend.
Her uncle had then slipped Clare some extra cash in case she’d needed it. For a moment, Clare reminded herself that she would need to telegraph him with the sad news.
It could wait. She didn’t want her father’s older brother to descend on her, making decisions, telling all in earshot what a mess his younger brother had made of things.
Yes, she’d wait on that telegram.
Clare had returned home to discover she’d needed to stay. Her mother had been too sick and her father had found her work in the Recording Office.
Her mother’s condition had kept her from returning to college.
Feeling her face warm, she turned to her brothers. “You may play out here, but come in to say goodbye when you hear the school bell. And don’t get dirty.”
Inside, Clare began her routine tasks. The small building was already warm, thanks to the caretaker, and Clare quickly shed her jacket.
“I’m glad Miss Worth didn’t think it necessary for you to stay home and entertain her,” Noah said.
“She wouldn’t be much of a mentor if she needed constant entertaining, would she?” Clare asked wryly. “Besides, if we’re going to have a picnic on Wednesday, I need to put in as many hours here as I can.”
“I’ll ask Mr. Pooley today if he will stay through his lunch.”
As if on cue, Pooley walked in. He offered his usual reserved hello and nod. Clare knew him to be a pleasant, albeit serious young man, married with a small child. He went straight to his desk.
She glanced at Noah, who asked him to stay on Wednesday, explaining where they would be doing. He shot Clare a surprised look before answering, “A picnic together?”
Rancher to the Rescue Page 14
