Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie_Bride of Tennessee Read online

  Alex’s eyes widened. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. Sheriff, please take Alex downstairs and get him some supper. I’m sure Cook still has some of his delicious stew left.”

  After the door closed behind them, she turned around and met Sebastian’s gaze with a frown. “Please explain.”

  He moved toward the door. “There’s not much to explain, really. The sheriff asked me to go with him to Union Station to try and find a woman. I did, and we found her.”

  “If you found her at the station then why is she lying unconscious in your old bedroom?”

  He took a deep breath. “She was told her intended was found dead, and passed out.” He shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?”

  Martha shook her head, momentarily closing her eyes. “You were right to bring her here, the poor dear. Now go downstairs and make sure John is taking care of Alex.”

  “John? Since when did you start calling him by his first name?”

  She pushed him toward the door. “Shush. Get downstairs and tell Cook to send up a bowl of stew for my new guest.”

  In the hall, he turned back to his mother. “And my daughter?”

  She smiled. “She’s asleep in my room. Probably exhausted after terrorizing the kitchen staff by helping them serve the food after you left with John. You really should think about finding yourself another wife. Your daughter needs a mother.”

  “My daughter is just fine. Besides, she has you. She doesn’t need a mother.”

  His mother placed her dainty hand on his arm, her bright blue eyes staring into his. “It’s been almost one year since Maggie died.”

  “She didn’t just die, mother. She ran out on Stella and me. That’s a bit more than just dying, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. What your wife did was wrong. Running away with that scalawag and leaving you and her daughter was unforgivable. But murdered by the man she ran away with? No one should die like that.”

  Sebastian forced his angry retort back down his throat and into the large reservoir of hatred he felt for his wife. He turned and walked down the hall. His mother was wrong. The last thing he or his daughter needed was a wife and mother. The last thing he would ever do was marry again.

  Chapter Two

  Lucie woke up and glanced around the unfamiliar room. Where am I? Alex’s familiar soft snoring on the bed beside her was comforting. Turning her head, she glanced at her brother’s peaceful face, his hair sticking out everywhere from tossing and turning in the night.

  She readied herself for the day as quietly as she could so Alex could sleep, creeping through the small apartment before quietly shutting the door behind her. She followed the hall to a grand staircase, then into the room she remembered from last night. Heat filled her face as her reaction to the sheriff’s news flooded her mind.

  Hoping she could afford a cup of coffee in the elegant hotel, she sat down at one of the empty tables. Her job at the textile mill back in Lawrence hadn’t paid much, but she’d pinched pennies and managed to pay most of the bills, as well as put a little food on the table. It had taken quite a bit of convincing, but she’d finally talked Alex out of quitting school to make extra money. Instead, he worked a few early mornings selling papers.

  Now what were they going to do?

  One of the waitresses walked up to her table and set down a steaming cup of coffee. “You must be Miss Croft. Mrs. McCord told me to be expectin’ you.”

  Lucie frowned. “Excuse me?”

  The girl nodded. “Mrs. McCord left explicit instructions that you and your brother weren’t to leave the hotel until the sheriff returned. She also said to make sure you both had a bit of breakfast.”

  “Oh, but…”

  She shook her head, and the mousy brown wisps of hair that had worked loose from her right bun moved on either side of her plump face. “No buts.”

  “I don’t want to be beholden—”

  “Now don’t you worry yourself about it. It’s a gift. Now, how about some of Cook’s delicious pancakes?”

  Lucie placed the napkin across her lap and smiled. “They sound delicious, but I think I will just have some coffee please.” The waitress disappeared through a swinging door behind the bar. The next thing Lucie knew, she’d returned with a plate full of pancakes and a small bottle of syrup.

  “I didn’t order—”

  “Orders, Miss. Mrs. McCord said to feed you breakfast, and that’s what I’m doin’.”

  Lucie looked around the room, noticing the room’s magnificent decor as she chewed the fluffy pancakes. The hotel looked as if it had been built yesterday. The staff must be very diligent, as nothing showed any signs of wear and tear. Not even the wood-planked floor was as scuffed as she would expect it to be in an older establishment.

  Halfway through her meal, an eerie feeling settled over her. Taking another bite of the delicious pancakes, she glanced around the room. Sebastian McCord stood behind the counter, talking to the clerk. He was tall, about a head taller than the clerk, and had a very nice profile. His neatly trimmed mustache and small triangle of hair underneath his bottom lip completed the picture. His tailored black jacket stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and his legs were long and lean. His light brown hair was cut close to the neck and looked tousled, as if he’d just come in from outside.

  His head turned in her direction and his brown gaze met hers. Without another word to the clerk, he walked around the counter and crossed the room, walking directly to her table. She hurriedly swallowed the bite and wiped her mouth, wondering what she’d done to warrant his darkening frown. He stopped beside the table and glared down at her.

  “Good morning, Miss Croft. You look much better this morning. Have you talked with Sheriff Gurley yet?”

  Eyes wide, she shook her head, afraid to say anything. The man was so handsome, and extremely intimidating.

  “Sebastian, do not browbeat the poor girl.” Martha McCord patted him on the chest and stared up at him until he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “Mother. I merely asked after her health and if she’d heard from the sheriff yet.”

  The woman sat down across from her. Lucie was surprised at how young the woman was. She was very attractive too. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, accentuating her heart-shaped face, and her blue eyes were the color of the sky.

  “He should be here shortly. You, my dear, look much better this morning. Not quite so pale. Did you enjoy breakfast?”

  “Very much. Thank you, Mrs. McCord.”

  “Please, call me Martha.”

  “I hope it’s all right,” Lucie said as she relaxed a bit more and leaned back in her chair. “I left Alex asleep upstairs.”

  “Of course. You both looked as if you needed a couple days of rest. I learned early on to give Sebastian an extra thirty minutes before making him do his chores. He woke up so surly.”

  “Mother…”

  She smiled up at the man towering over them. “Well, it’s true. Your father was the same way. Now.” She patted her son’s arm. “Sebastian, go see if you can round up the sheriff while I have a little chat with Lucie.”

  Lucie stared up at him, wishing his scowl would go away. The man was so daunting.

  Martha raised her cheek, which he leaned over and kissed. She patted the other side of his face. “Go.” She watched her son walk away as the waitress placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. Blowing softly on the hot liquid, she took a timid sip.

  “Your son—he’s very serious, isn’t he? I’m so sorry I’ve inconvenienced everyone. I don’t usually faint.”

  “You are fine, my dear. Don’t worry about anything. And yes, Sebastian is very serious. Too much so, I’m afraid.” Martha glanced around the room, her eyes shining. “He’s done something his father never could, and made the place what you see today. I’m so proud of Sebastian and what he’s accomplished. My husband, bless the man, had no head for business. Before we married, he was the captain of a ship. He tried
his hand at many things, but the sea always called to him.”

  “Why didn’t you go to sea with him?” Lucie asked.

  Her face twisted in a grimace. “I get seasick. The first time he took me out, I stayed in the cabin, deathly ill the entire time. He sold the Princess so we could buy a house. I’d almost convinced him to purchase another ship, but Sebastian came along. He didn’t want to leave his son, so we traveled a lot while he searched for something he could do.” She took a few more sips of coffee and set the cup down in the saucer with a soft plink.

  “I know what it’s like to be scared of tomorrow. To not know when your next meal will be, or if you’d even have a place to stay.”

  “So that’s why you helped us?”

  Martha nodded. “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen. Alex is almost thirteen.” With her finger, she swirled the condensation on her glass. “My mother passed when I was five. My father remarried and then Alex was born. They died in a fire when he was only two. I’ve been trying to take care of him ever since. We were doing okay until the mill where I worked burned down.

  “I did what I had to do to make sure my brother had a roof over his head and food to eat, so I signed up to become a mail-order bride.”

  “It’s quite unusual for a gentleman to agree to take on a child. How did you manage that?”

  Lucie felt her cheeks grow warm, and she quickly glanced down at her lap, the knuckles of her tightly clasped hands now white. “I, ummm…I didn’t tell him.”

  A burst of tinkles, like a wind chime, sounded as Martha laughed. “You didn’t tell your future husband that you were bringing along your twelve-year-old brother?” Her laughter slowed then finally stopped as she wiped her eyes with a napkin. “You have spunk. I like you, Lucie. You remind me of myself at your age.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do.” Lucie raised her tear-filled eyes.

  Martha leaned forward, all traces of her previous laughter gone. “You did what was necessary, both for you and your brother. No one will fault you for that, my dear. Least of all me. I dare say, I would have done the very same thing had I been in your shoes.”

  Lucie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Martha’s gaze moved to something behind her. “Yes, I do believe I would have.” Her pink lips turned up in a sweet smile. “Good morning, John.”

  He whipped his hat off and held it in front of him, his fingers worrying the brim. “Mornin’ ladies. Haven’t had my coffee yet, so can’t say it’s been a good start to the day.”

  Martha motioned to the waitress across the room. “Nancy, please get Sheriff Gurley a cup of coffee.” With her hand outstretched, she directed him toward the chair opposite theirs. “Please sit a moment, John. Whatever news you have can wait while we fix your day.”

  With a loud scraping of the chair legs against the floor he sat, placing his hat on the table beside him. A moment later, he held a steaming cup of black coffee in his hands. He took a few sips, oblivious to the scalding heat then set the cup back down, his large fingers awkwardly holding the small handle.

  “Just came from the doc’s—Doc Brown’s house.” He glanced at Lucie under his thick eyebrows, the skin between them slightly furrowed. “Doc says Mr. Crenshaw died of apoplexy ’bout two days ago.” He took another gulp of coffee. “If you don’t mind me askin’…Mr. Crenshaw looked to be in his fifties or thereabouts. Wonder why he’d send off for a bride now? You seem a might young to be weddin’ a man his age.”

  Lucie stared down at her half-eaten meal and pushed the plate away, her appetite gone. “I honestly have no idea. As I told you yesterday, Sheriff, I answered a mail-order bride advertisement. His name and letter were given to me by a woman back east, helping those of us who lost our positions when the place where we were employed burned. I didn’t know his age or why he wanted a wife.”

  She reached into the small pocket sewn into her dress and pulled out a folded piece of paper, very wrinkled and stained. She handed it to the sheriff, promptly clasping her hands in her lap.

  “Lucie?”

  She turned to see her brother standing a few feet away, his hair still messy from sleeping. He yawned and rubbed one eye with the side of his fist.

  “I’m hungry.”

  With a wave of her hand, Martha rose and immediately ushered Alex to the table next to theirs. In a matter of minutes, he had a large stack of pancakes in front of him, which he was quickly devouring. Lucie had no clue how she would ever repay this kindhearted woman, but somehow she would try.

  She leaned toward him. “Alex, don’t shovel the food into your mouth like that, you’ll choke. At least chew it first.”

  He smiled then resumed stuffing the pancakes into his mouth as fast as he could. “They’re really good, sissy! Our cook back home never made ’em this good when she worked for us.”

  “True. These are quite good—very fluffy.”

  He nodded as the waitress placed a glass of orange juice beside his plate, which he emptied. Without asking, she plopped three more pancakes onto the smudges of remaining syrup then walked away.

  Amazed, Alex stared at them and sighed. “It’s like a dream come true—I didn’t even have to ask for more.”

  Lucie turned back to face Martha. “I take it he approves of the cook’s pancakes?”

  “Seems so,” Martha said “He’s a growing boy and can have as many as he wants. From the way your clothes are hanging, neither of you have been eating too much lately. Do you have any family back where you came from who could help?”

  “No one that I know of.”

  “Well, that’s it then. You and your brother will stay here until we figure something else out.”

  Lucie slowly shook her head. “Oh, but we can’t impose on you or your son like that!”

  “Nonsense. No arguments, now. We’ll get young Alex enrolled in school this afternoon. Even if the situation’s temporary, he shouldn’t miss school.”

  “Thank you for being so kind.”

  Martha glanced over Lucie’s shoulder again and narrowed her eyes. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I need to talk to Sebastian.” Rising, she walked over to her son who was talking to a man a couple of tables away.

  “I think I have a solution to your problems, Sebastian.”

  “What problems would those be?”

  “Stella.”

  “Mother—”

  Martha held up her hand. “Just hear me out. Please. I’ve done everything I can for my granddaughter, but I’m not what she needs. You have tried to be a good father, but taking care of her if a full-time job. You can’t run this hotel and take care of a little girl who is having trouble accepting that her mother is never coming home. I think I have a solution to both yours and Lucie’s problems. I would like for you to consider marrying her.”

  Lucie choked on her coffee, setting the cup down in the saucer with a loud clink as she patted her chest. Martha was out of her mind! When she’d answered Mr. Crenshaw’s letter, she had been desperate. There were no jobs in Massachusetts—but maybe here, she would be able to find a position that paid enough for her and Alex to stay.

  “You are out of your mind…”

  “Then consider moving back here. I could at least help out with Stella more, and try to keep her out of trouble,” his mother pleaded.

  Not wanting to hear Sebastian’s refusal, Lucie met Sheriff Gurley’s worried gaze. “Mr. Gurley, do you happen to know of a job I might be able to do. It would have to be close to the hotel and school. I don’t want Alex wandering around Chattanooga alone.”

  “Well, Jack Beauregard just started up a new place. General store just down the street a bit. He might need a bit of help cleanin’ and such. Man’s all right, but sort of rough around the edges…if you know what I mean.”

  “That sounds perfect. I’ll go see him this morning.” Lucie excused herself and motioned for her brother to follow her back upstairs, all the while thinking about the sound of disgust in Mr. McCord’s voice.
r />   Chapter Three

  Lucie had worked in the store for almost a week, wondering at the end of each day whether she’d still have a job or not the next morning. Every day would begin with Mr. Beauregard’s snarling disapproval of how she cleaned and stocked the shelves. Although in her eyes, the floors weren’t dirty and the store looked much more organized than it had before she’d started. He was constantly following her around the small building, rearranging everything she straightened and telling her it wasn’t good enough. He’d also found her selling skills lacking the few times she’d tried to help a customer.

  Martha had come into the store every day, checking up on her, which was a sweet thing for her to do, and Lucie appreciated it..

  “Miss Croft!” Mr. Beauregard yelled from the back room. “Come back here this instant!”

  She cringed, wondering what he was going to gripe about this time as she slowly made her way to where he waited. She didn’t like her boss. Every chance he got, he was touching her…whether it was to pull her somewhere or to show her something she’d done wrong. He made her skin crawl.

  He stood in the middle of the room, glaring as he pointed his dirty, fat finger to several opened boxes. “I thought I told you to put all this up before you went home last night?” He pulled out a bag of sugar and another smaller bag of chicory beans and shoved them in her face. “If I hadn’t come in here, these would’ve been ruined! My customers won’t buy sugar that tastes like coffee!” he screamed, his eyes actually bulging.

  She took a step back. “I don’t think—”

  “I don’t pay you to think, now do I! I want these things put up where they’re supposed to be…and if I hear any complaints from a customer, I’m docking your wages.” He tossed the bags back into the box, kicking it as he walked by. As he headed toward the adjoining room, he shoved her into the wall. Without a backward glance, he slammed the door of his office behind him.

  She stared at the merchandise, breathing hard and trying to calm herself down. She frowned at the name stamped on the outside of the heavy crates. Two shipments had been delivered since she’d begun working, and each time the names had been different—as if they were for another store. The contents were strange as well—not the normal items one would find in a small mercantile like this one.