Eleanor & Matthew (Colorado Matchmaker Book 2)

by Annie Boone

  “I’ve, um, heard it through the grapevine that Matt was most definitely caught up in that fight,” he said slowly, clearly afraid of the effect of his words.

  Eleanor took a shuddering gasp.

  “I can’t tell you exactly what happened because the details are still unclear. You know how stories grow when they get passed around, and this one’s crossed two states. All I know for certain is that he was involved.”

  “Now, now, I still don’t think we should just assume the worst.” Susannah stroked Eleanor’s shoulder soothingly, trying to calm her distraught friend. “I’m sure we’ll see him by this afternoon, or if not Matt himself, he’ll send a telegram. He’s fine. You’ll see.”

  Eleanor nodded, but hope was already fading in her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Days passed with no news of Matthew, and days quickly turned into weeks. Susannah watched Eleanor with sadness and guilt. She was the one who had introduced her to Matt and even if she never could have predicted the fight, it was technically Susannah’s fault that Eleanor was facing the loss of another man from her life.

  She kept up hope, talking cheerfully of his return until the moment Lucas quietly took her aside and told her to stop, for Eleanor’s sake. Lucas himself kept out of the way. He didn’t know what to say, and solved the problem by not saying anything at all.

  Eleanor was simply resigned. She’d done this before. No amount of tears, no amount of hoping or wishing or praying would bring back the dead, and in her mind Matthew was dead. He wasn’t coming back. No more than John or her baby were going to come back. Matt had taught her that himself. She might as well get used to it.

  The bigger question was what she was going to do. Eleanor had no intention of going back to Boston. She’d rather go work in a saloon than do that. She couldn’t live on the Jessup’s hospitality forever. At the very least, she had to find some way of earning her keep. That way she could bring some money into the household, and pay for her room and board.

  These thoughts combined with the cold, creeping pain of loss were enough to keep her from speaking much to those around her. Eleanor went through her days mechanically, the rituals of cooking and cleaning the only thing she could cling to. For the first time in her life, she was even too wretched to pray. Her lips barely moved when she mumbled grace at supper time. And what was worse, she didn’t even mean any of the words she uttered.

  Lucas and Susannah watched her silence with alarm. She hadn’t been chatty when she arrived, but as Eleanor’s friendship with Matthew grew, she’d come out of her shell, like a late-blooming flower finally showing its full and beautiful colors. It had become normal for Lucas to come home in the evenings to loud laughter as the two women worked and fellowshipped together.

  Now, she didn’t say anything at all. Entire days could pass with Eleanor barely saying five words, to Susannah and Lucas combined. The couple had a lively, if hushed argument almost every night about what they should do; Susannah wanted to find a way to cheer her up, and Lucas insisted that Eleanor be given space. The end result was that they tried to let her relax, and avoided the subjects of cattle, Kansas City, and Matthew Connor entirely.

  Unaware of her friend’s worries, Eleanor found that she had very little to do. Susannah was trying to keep most of the chores to herself, which was hurting more than it was helping. Eleanor would have loved the opportunity to fill her mind with even the meanest of manual labor. When her hands were still, her thoughts kept wandering back to the idea of Matthew, getting on a train and never coming home.

  At the moment, Susannah was out weeding in the kitchen garden, while Eleanor sat in the sitting room, mending an old shirt of Lucas’, having gone through every item of clothing in the house looking for tears when Susannah wasn’t watching. There wasn’t much to fix, but it was at least something.

  Just as Eleanor was tying off her thread, there was a knock at the door. Eleanor looked around, but Lucas was out working, and Susannah wouldn’t be able to hear from the back of the house. She was going to have to deal with whoever the visitor was. Eleanor sighed, setting aside the shirt.

  She expected to find one of Lucas’ acquaintances, either trying to find him or deliver a message. The person on the other side of the door was one of his acquaintances, just not one of the ones she was expecting. Matthew stood on the porch. He seemed even more surprised than Eleanor when she shrieked at the top of her lungs and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Ellie?”

  Matt didn’t have time to get another word out, because Eleanor planted a kiss right on his lips. Susannah, hearing Eleanor’s shout, came running around the side of the house, saw what was going on, and went running right back out of sight.

  “Where have you been?” Eleanor demanded as soon as she pulled away. She was on the verge of tears, and had to sniff madly to stop her nose from running.

  “Kansas City?” Matt looked befuddled, if befuddled in a pleased sort of way.

  “For a month? You were supposed to be back on the fifteenth!” Eleanor wiped her eyes. She was going to be calm about this, if it was the last thing she did.

  “Didn’t you get my telegram?” Matt asked, frowning.

  “No.” Much to her embarrassment, Eleanor continued to snuffle. She was far too old to be crying openly like a child. “We didn’t get any messages about anything, and then the newspapers said there was a fight at the club in Kansas City and that people died, and—”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” Matt said gruffly. “Someone got shot, but nobody died.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?” Eleanor demanded. “You just never came back!”

  “Well, I’m back now. Just got a little banged up.” Matt pushed her away just enough to how her his arm, still wrapped thick bandages.

  Eleanor gasped. She’d been so happy to see him she hadn’t even noticed. “They made me stay at the hospital a while, ‘till the bump on my head went down. Wanted me to stay longer, actually, but I wasn’t having that. I knew you’d be waiting for me.”

  “I thought—we thought you must’ve died,” Eleanor said. She was forced to wipe her eyes again. Matt’s expression had already been gentle, but now it became outright tender.

  “There, now,” he said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine, see? Give me time to get these bandages off and I’ll be fit as a fiddle.”

  Eleanor nodded, taking a deep breath.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” she said quietly.

  “I am, too.” Matt paused for a second. “But I’d be gladder if you married me.”

  Eleanor gave a sniffly laugh.

  “I thought we already decided to do that,” she said.

  “Well, I was afraid you might change your mind again,” Matthew said.

  Eleanor shook her head violently. “I wouldn’t dare. Not this time.” Burrowing in under Matthew’s bandaged arm, she hugged him tightly. “I’m too grateful for this second chance. Not everyone gets this lucky.”

  Matthew dipped his head down and gave Eleanor the sweetest kiss she’d ever received. Swept up in the moment, she kissed him back with all the pent up love and worry she’d kept in her heart for the past month.

  “I think I’m going to like being married to a woman who will kiss me like that.” Matthew beamed down at Eleanor with no shyness or hesitation.

  Eleanor tried to quell the blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. She was certain her husband-to-be would manage to make her blush time and again as they spent their lives together. She looked forward to every moment of it.

  Epilogue

  Susannah and Lucas drove their carriage over to the Connor ranch. A year had passed, and summer was already melting into fall. The house bustled with activity as ranch hands went back and forth, preparing to drive a small herd to Denver for shipping. Lucas went to speak to Matthew, while Susannah let herself into the house.

  To her surprise she found Eleanor and Mrs. Connor the elder downstairs, cheerily washi
ng dishes in the kitchen. At the sight of her friend, Eleanor grabbed a towel and dried her hands.

  “Should you be on your feet already?” Susannah asked, raising her eyebrows at Eleanor. Eleanor scoffed.

  “Don’t be silly. Everything went perfectly. You were there.”

  “Still. You should be taking easy,” Susannah said.

  “There’s time for that later. Did I tell you I actually got letters from those brothers of mine the other day?” Eleanor said, leading Susannah across the house. “Apparently I’m worth acknowledging, now that I’m married to a ranch owner.”

  “That does sound like your brothers,” Susannah said drily. “How about your mother? Does she still bother you about coming west?”

  That prompted a laugh and a grimace from Eleanor.

  “I think I’ve finally convinced her to just stay in Boston. A little, um, assistance from Matt helped, I think. They won’t have to worry about being evicted any time soon.”

  “That’s probably for the best. Your family, his family, and your own family all in one place would be a bit much.”

  “Especially if our family keeps growing.” They reached the bedroom, and tiptoed in.

  A tiny baby, only a few days old, lay sleeping in a cradle. She was tucked up in a yellow blanket that Susannah had crocheted herself. Eleanor watched her friend’s face carefully as she looked at the baby.

  “We decided to name her Susannah. She would never have been born, if it weren’t for you.” Her face was hesitant, as though she was a little worried about how Susannah was going to react. Susannah just smiled and shook her head.

  “That’s sweet of you.” It was a short sentence, but it said more than the sum of its words. Eleanor smiled in relief, continuing to talk.

  “We haven’t decided if she’s going to be a Susie or an Anna yet.” she said. “Obviously she can’t just be Susannah. That’d too many Susannahs.”

  Susannah laughed, and smaller Susannah gurgled angrily at the noise.

  “Now, now, don’t fuss.” Eleanor said, rocking the cradle back and forth.

  Neither Susannah nor Eleanor wanted to admit it, but it was a bittersweet moment. They had used to share their childlessness, a bond neither of them wanted, but lived with anyway. It was hard to see Eleanor sitting there, holding the happiness that Susannah could never achieve. In spite of all that, Susannah was feeling quite optimistic about the future.

  Her success in marrying Eleanor off had given her a very good idea. Susannah couldn’t help but smile widely as she watch the baby get rocked back to sleep. Oh, yes, she’d thought of something very good to occupy her time with.

  Now she just had to convince Lucas to play along.

  It’s not quite the end!

  * * *

  Did you enjoy Eleanor and Matthew’s love story? Sure, it was a rocky road, but the journey was worth it!

  If you want to find out how Susannah helps another young woman change her life and meet the man of her dreams, turn the page for a sneak peek!

  Preview – Rowena and Jeb from the Colorado Matchmaker Series

  1

  Rowena and Jeb

  Chapter 1

  August, 1881; New York City

  The great grandfather clock struck midnight, and chimed loudly in the main hall. Twelve chimes that seemed to shake the floor and still made Rowena jump every time the first clang pealed out. Well, not every time, she admitted to herself, but it happened every time she was actually in the room. Rubbing an eye, the young woman tried to shrink back into the shadows to pull herself together.

  After clearing up her vision, Rowena tied her hair back. It was most likely that soon it would be untied by someone not of her liking, but she did it anyway. She knew it made her look five years younger, and hoped that would convince everyone to ignore her. Clear eyes, hair out of the face, and then she tried to pull her skirt down lower. It was just shy of the tops of her boots, and it was a chilly evening.

  “It’s too cold for this nonsense,” she muttered to herself, in the vain hope it would suddenly double in length. It was a fabric like a cheap silk that shined in the light, but was flimsy and prone to stains and tears. As she bent over, a thick strand of her long brown hair escaped the braid and she groaned.

  “Hiding in the corner again?” Gertrude walked by, holding her tray high. “Come along, my little squirrel. We’ve all got jobs to do.”

  The younger woman pursed her lips at the silly nickname and watched the tall blonde stroll away down into the hall. This was where the fancy parlor with the grand clock and the well-lit lanterns was. But further into the saloon were low lights, no concept of time, and too much of everything Rowena hated.

  A few minutes later, she could avoid it no longer. Already she was starting to get noticed and could feel the eyes on her. At least, the girl knew, they wouldn’t be able to see her well under the low lights. Swallowing, she reached the ballroom and raised her tray higher in the air.

  “There you are, little lady,” Mr. Sylvester Pyrion chuckled as she passed his roulette table. “I was wondering where you’ve been. You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?” Slouched over the counter, the candles lit the grease in his hair and in his smile. The buttons on his shirt were near bursting as though they wanted to be far away from here and she knew exactly how they felt.

  “Not at all, sir.” With a tight smile, she obediently shared her tray with him, and he switched his glass for fresh champagne. But as Rowena attempted to step away, his hand slipped over hers and the tray wobbled. “Oh! I—oh, my!”

  The others laughed around the table, watching her as though she were more interesting than the cards in their hands. Gritting her teeth, she pulled away harder this time but not before the straying fingers reached her hips. Rowena jumped and turned, scampering off to the sound of their guffaws.

  “And they all wear wedding rings,” she shuddered.

  After two more turns around the room and spending most of the time escaping wandering hands, Rowena needed to catch her breath. Coughing from all the cigar smoke hovering in the room, she found one of the parlors empty and slipped in as she rubbed her watery eyes.

  There was no clock here, but it certainly had to be past two in the morning, a time when everyone should be sleeping. Having been working in the ballroom for a year now, Rowena was still not used to being awake at this time. Just as she was considering hiding out here for the rest of the evening, the curtain opened.

  “I’m sorry—” She stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Mr. Beal’s face. The wicked grin on his face faded into a grim expression and the girl behind him, Gertrude’s sister Mary Anne, tittered shyly. Her red lip stain was smeared, and her eyes were bright and unfocused. The aroma of cheap cologne hung heavily in the air, not much better than the smoke and whiskey. Rowena’s cheeks heated up and her eyes skirted down. “I’ll go.”

  But he stood in her way, unmoving. It was a small parlor, round with only a slim entrance with a curtain hung over it, obviously meant for private moments. It made Rowena feel sick to her stomach but there wasn’t much room in a gambling house like this. “No. She will go.”

  Mr. Beal released Mary Anne, pushing her away harshly. The girl stumbled into the hazy smoke and Rowena’s throat closed up as she found herself alone with… What was he to her?

  Her master? Owner? Simply her employer? For three years she had been trapped in this little gambling house, the scourge of the area. Ever since her uncle had lost her in a card game here, this had become her life. No matter how often she saw Mr. Beal, in daylight or candlelight, the queasiness never subsided.

  “I need to… um, deliver more drinks,” she stammered, and hurriedly turned back to her tray sitting on top of the cushions. “I just needed a breath of fresh air, I swear, I’m not being lazy.”

  “Not what? Being lazy, you say?” He crossed his arms and leisurely looked her over. It made her feel like a pig at market, and she wanted more than anything to push him away and run off. But she couldn�
�t do something like that, not when she didn’t know what would happen next. “Rowena, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  It was as though he were sucking the life out of her with that dark hooded stare. She shifted, trying again to pull her skirt down. “You’ve grown,” the man said finally, his dark eyes considering her. She knew he was at least in his fifties. He dyed his hair and his mustache black every week, the ink a wobbly ridge against his receding hairline. He smelled a bit like a dead animal, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten in several hours. “You’ve been here for what, five years?”

  She shook her head and fiddled with the tray. “Three. Three years. Two were spent cleaning, and now I’m serving in the main social room.”

  He licked his lips. “You were such a scrawny little thing, when you arrived. But I certainly got my money’s worth now that you’re all grown up.”

  Rowena couldn’t take it any longer. Holding the tray now with both hands in front of her, she tried to step around him. “I need to get back out there, sir, I’m working, you know.”

  “Don’t concern yourself with that,” he waved a hand in the air, and started to drape it over her shoulder. This action, however, meant that he had stepped aside and the way out was clear. Her heart skipped a beat at the opening. “Sit here with me. Just for a bit.”

  His sweat soaked shirt brushed against her bare arm and she felt another wave of nausea. Hurriedly she slid forward, and through the curtain. “Sorry, sir,” she murmured and escaped the room. The thought of being alone with him any longer than a few seconds was too much to bear.

  Refusing to look back, Rowena walked stiffly across the room and out the door. There would be no fresh air in a place like this, not a moment’s respite. Though the evening was only half over, Rowena decided she wasn’t needed anymore. She would deal with any punishment later in the bright light of day.