Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) Page 6

  “No, my dear. But there are a lot of people in the world who don’t think of others or their feelings. They only want satisfaction for themselves.”

  Lucie leaned back in the comfortable chaise. “You sound as if you know what you’re talking about.”

  “In a way. My husband, God love his soul, was one of those people. Everything was always about him and what he could get from the experience. It was never about anyone else. Sebastian and I were usually left behind.”

  “Where is he now? Your husband?”

  She shrugged, her black shawl falling off her thin shoulder, which she promptly pulled back up. “I have no idea. He disappeared so long ago, I guess I just assume he’s no longer living.”

  “And that’s why you keep Sheriff Gurley at arm’s length, isn’t it?” Lucie asked.

  “You are entirely too observant, young lady. Sebastian said almost the same thing earlier.” She rubbed her hand over her skirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles. “But you’re correct. I like Sheriff Gurley very much. He’s so caring. He took my son under his wing, showing Sebastian how to be a man, teaching him right from wrong, when he didn’t have to. The man never misses anything, which is why he’s so good at his job. What would I do if I let my guard down and admitted having feelings for him…and then my husband shows up?”

  “Why don’t you divorce him due to abandonment? You can’t stay in limbo forever?”

  Martha frowned. “Who’s comforting whom? You came to me in tears and now, here you are trying to help me.” She leaned over and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Lucie.”

  Lucie couldn’t help but wonder about Sebastian and how his father had helped to shape his son’s life. Even Sebastian’s relationship with his own daughter.

  * * *

  “Stella!” Sebastian hollered from the back door. Glancing quickly around the large back yard and not seeing her, he walked to his property line and the building he’d built there in his spare time…so needless to say it had taken him many years to finish. He couldn’t even call it a barn. In reality, it looked more like a house. Even the inside had several rooms in addition to a small living space and a galley-style kitchen like he’d seen in his grandfather’s ships. He opened the wider-than-normal door and stepped into the dim evening light filtering through the high windows. From the silence−and the layer of dust coating the floor−he knew she wasn’t here either.

  He stamped down his irritation and shut the door, striding back to his house. Where in the hell had his daughter gone in the ten minutes he’d been in his room changing his clothes? It wasn’t unusual for her to go see her friend, Peter, and he toyed with the idea of walking down to the boy’s small house, but decided to wait and see if she came home on her own. Somehow, he was going to have to figure out a way to get her to start asking before disappearing.

  He fixed himself a sandwich and a fresh cup of coffee, the food eaten before he even got to the front door. Sitting in the large wicker chair on the porch, he propped his boots on the railing edge and sipped his drink, waiting for his daughter to show up. Irritation built the longer she was gone, until his insides simmered in worry with an underlying layer of anger because she’d run off. Again. He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe his mother had a point.

  As darkness settled over the town, the dim yellow lights from the street lamps periodically illuminating the walkway, he noticed two dark figures walking along the sidewalk toward him. One was a child.

  He stood, walked to the edge of the porch, and crossed his arms over his chest. John and Stella stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the sheriff never letting go of her small arm. In his other hand, he held a revolver. His daughter’s glance was defiant and furious while John tried to keep a straight face.

  Sebastian let out a resigned breath but continued to glare at his daughter. “What has she done now?”

  “She’s been busy today, that’s for sure. Your daughter decided to leave school early and go bother people at the hotel. Cook’s about ready to quit because of what she did to the kitchen.”

  “I was only helping,” Stella said.

  John ignored her, continuing his story. “I caught her and Peter Singleton down by the tracks. They claim to be guarding the Addison’s chickens from a fox that keeps trying to get into the coop, but—”

  “We were!” Stella whined but stopped when his eyes narrowed.

  “The Addison’s haven’t had any fox problems. And someone,” he said, glancing down at Stella, “shot their dog.” John shook his head then turned his gaze back to Sebastian. “She’s lucky the puppy was excited and running around the fence. Her shot clipped his back leg, but he should be fine.”

  Sebastian closed his eyes, willing his anger to recede. He was at his wit’s end. Where had this ornery streak come from? He knew better though, he’d been just as rambunctious as a boy. And she missed Maggie. If his mother was right about that…maybe she was right about Lucie as well.

  From everything he remembered from his own childhood friends, girls were prim and proper. They cared about dresses and hair, learning how to take care of a home and family from a young age. His daughter? He didn’t think she ever brushed her hair. Why hadn’t he taken the time to make sure? Repugnance filled him. He’d done the one thing he always swore he never would. He’d become his father.

  He met her gaze, worry quickly replacing the previous fury on her face. “Stella, go to your room.” When she opened her mouth to object, he added in a low tone, “Now.”

  John dropped her arm, and she stomped up the stairs then across the porch, slamming the front door behind her. The glass panes in both the door and the large window in the adjoining wall shook from the force.

  “You need to figure somethin’ out quick, Sebastian. If you ask me, she’s spiraling down an angry well, and if you don’t stop her now, someone’s gonna get hurt. Maybe even Stella herself.”

  “I’ve been reminded of that a lot lately.” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I know I haven’t made the best decisions, but after Maggie left…well, let’s just say I’m seeing things a bit clearer now.”

  John turned and took a few steps toward the street, but glanced back at him. “Maybe takin’ your mother’s advice might not be such a bad thing. Oh, and I thought you’d like to know the judge ruled in Lucie’s favor. Beauregard will serve not only for what he did to her, but also for stealing from businesses around Chattanooga.”

  Sebastian dropped back down into the wicker chair. His gaze followed the sheriff’s dark form as he walked back toward the hotel, knowing the man would check in on his mother, just like he’d done every night since his father left. When he couldn’t see John any longer, he stared up at the night sky, watching the thousands of tiny pinpricks of white lights blinking across the inky blanket.

  He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he was worried—no, that wasn’t exactly the truth. He was scared. He had to finally admit to himself that he had no idea what he was doing or how to raise a child, much less a girl. His mother was right—had been right all along, but he’d been too prideful to see it. He should have just sold the house after Maggie left. But could he follow through with his mother’s wishes? Could he marry solely for his daughter?

  He heard her rummaging around in her room, hopefully getting ready for bed, but probably not. The cool late September breeze sent a chill over his skin, but he didn’t mind. He loved this time of year. The corners of his mouth turned up. His patrons smelled better this time of year too.

  Knowing he needed to go inside and talk to Stella didn’t make him feel better. For her sake, he knew he would go and talk to Lucie tomorrow morning, but he didn’t have to like it. Something about Lucie intrigued him, but the last thing he wanted to do was put himself in such a position again. For his daughter though, he’d do anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucie slowly strolled down the sidewalk, her skin soaking in the chilly morning sunlight. The scent of fresh bread and bacon hit her nostrils
, and her stomach growled. Since arriving in Chattanooga, she had walked Alex to school and no matter how sore or beat up her body was, and she would never stop.

  She loved taking care of her brother, especially those quiet times like just before bed when he said his prayers or when she walked him to school, just the two of them talking about nothing in particular.

  They had some decisions to make about whether to stay here or return to Massachusetts, although where she’d find the money for train tickets was also a problem. Her gaze followed the neat row of townhomes on either side of the street. The town was more widespread than she was used to—the buildings wide instead of high, with open spaces between each one. Back home, everything was too close. Only the rich could afford to build a large home with a small yard. She liked it here.

  She’d promised Alex they would make the decision about what to do together, but if it were just up to her, she would stay. Living here was a fresh start for them both, and with their new friends’ help, they just might be able to manage it. Her thoughts turned back to yesterday and the man who’d grabbed her.

  Martha had been understanding and wonderful. Truth be told, though, she was getting very tired of having to be rescued. She wasn’t weak, and had managed to protect herself just fine back in Lawrence. But here the men seemed so untamed, wild even, in comparison to those she’d grown up around.

  Turning the corner onto Ninth Street, she stopped. Standing in front of the McCord were Sebastian and his mother, talking. She tried to gauge Sebastian’s demeanor, not wanting a repeat of the last few times they’d been thrown together. He wasn’t quite as intimidating as when she’d first met him, but he still made her feel uncomfortable.

  Martha turned and greeted her with a wide smile, and Lucie’s steps faltered. She knew Martha well enough to realize she was up to something.

  “Good morning, Lucie! Did you get Alex off to school okay?” Martha asked.

  Lucie stopped several feet away, a slow frown pulling at her brows. Even Sebastian wasn’t acting normal—he had a smile on his face. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking from one to the other. The sight of the slight dimple on his left cheek made her stomach flip-flop.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Martha asked, pasting an innocent expression on her face.

  Lucie’s frown deepened. “Martha?”

  She linked her arm through Lucie’s and pulled her into the hotel and toward a table. “Sit down and eat your breakfast then we’ll have a small talk.”

  “We?” Lucie glanced at Sebastian from the corner of her eye. The scowl was back on his face. She smiled. That was better. She could deal with the scowl.

  “Yes. We would like to have a word with you about something.”

  Sebastian pulled out her chair, scooting her closer to the table then did the same thing for his mother. His gaze met Lucie’s. “I will be right back.”

  Lucie accepted a cup of coffee and watched Sebastian’s broad back as he walked to the bar and said something to the barkeeper. His light brown hair curled over the collar of his black wool frockcoat. Her fingers itched to know if the strands were as silky as they looked. She felt a quiver deep in her stomach, as if she had butterflies flying around inside of it. It wasn’t until he stood beside her again that she noticed the plate in his hand.

  Ignoring Martha’s polite chatter, she glanced down at her half-eaten biscuits and gravy and pressed her hands against her middle, willing away her jitters. She forced her head back up as Sebastian turned around.

  Sebastian’s gaze found hers, and the quivering feeling returned. He was classically handsome, with the air of a Southern gentleman. His dark mustache and black cutaway coat and burgundy vest, with a crisp white shirt and western tie completed the illusion.

  She pushed her plate away, no longer hungry as he sat in the chair next to hers. Needing something to do with her hands, she wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and cradled it between her palms. The slight pain from the heat deflected any more stray thoughts about the man beside her.

  “Sebastian?” Martha prodded, tilting her head toward Lucie. When he continued to stare at her, she frowned. “Sebastian, please.”

  He sighed. When his dark eyes locked with Lucie’s, she noticed the subtle veins of gold running through their depths, along with frustration. “Lucie, may I have a word with you—in my office?”

  His mother shook her head. “What a horrid way to begin, Sebastian.”

  He stood, holding out his hand to her. Lucie stared at it then Martha, who remained silent. She placed her hand in his and followed him behind the counter to is office. She jumped when the door closed behind them.

  Sebastian led her closer to the desk and stopped beside the chair used by his clients or staff. “I would like to take Mr. Crenshaw’s place as your husband…if you’re agreeable, of course.”

  Her heart stopped and whatever breath had been in her lungs now lodged in her throat until she thought she would choke on it. “Excuse me?”

  He held up a hand. “You and Alex need somewhere to stay on a more permanent basis, and I need help raising my daughter. I am not looking for a wife, in the truest meaning of the word, Lucie. I need a woman who can aid Stella to grow up a bit more cultured, nothing more.”

  She didn’t quite know what to think, much less feel. The man had about as much thoughtfulness as a stump. “Why don’t you just hire me on as a nanny?”

  “Your reputation would be ruined, living as a single woman in my home. Even here, we have a certain civility to maintain, and that’s one of the big rules, I’m afraid.”

  “What about the wifely duties…” Her cheeks burned, but she had to ask the question. “I mean…well, in the bedroom?”

  “We won’t consummate our marriage until you’re ready, Lucie. I’ve never forced myself on a woman, and I’m not about to start to now. If you would like to think about your answer, there’s no rush, nor do you have to decide today.”

  Lucie forced a smile to her face and looked down at her shabby boots. Without a word, she walked to the closed door, her hand resting on the doorknob. Hesitating, she turned her head but not enough to see Sebastian. “Thank you, Sebastian. I will let you know my answer soon.”

  * * *

  Lucie paced back and forth in the living room, unable to stay still. She felt as if she were jumping out of her skin.

  “Sissy, please sit down and tell me what’s got you so rattled,” Alex said, his gaze following her around the room from his comfortable perch on the chaise. “Did something happen again today?”

  She gave him a quick look. “Who told you something happened to me?”

  He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “People talk, especially after having a few drinks. I heard several versions of the story while I ate supper with the sheriff last night. One version even had Mr. McCord coming to your rescue like a knight in shining armor.” He snickered.

  “He did.”

  Alex frowned. “Really?”

  She nodded and dropped into the chair opposite her brother. “He wants to take Mr. Crenshaw’s place in the marriage contract.”

  “Who does? And what contract?”

  Sighing, she rubbed her temple. “Before leaving Massachusetts, I signed a paper agreeing to marry Mr. Crenshaw.”

  His face went blank. “What about love, sissy? You’re supposed to marry someone because you love them.”

  She stared at her little brother in wonder. He sounded so much older than his twelve years. “You’re right, Alex. A marriage should be filled with love. But sometimes things go wrong in life, and someone like me doesn’t have the luxury of love anymore.”

  She knew what she was going to do. She had a small job, but didn’t make enough to pay rent, much less buy food. And there was Stella to consider. She had never been a mother, but she had lost hers. Just like Stella had. She knew she could help the little girl deal with her anger. Her previous anxiety disappeared, replaced by a calm she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “Mr. McC
ord needs our help, Alex, and I can’t help him without marrying him.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “He’s asked me to help raise his daughter. Show her how to be a lady.”

  Alex let out a loud guffaw. “Good luck with that…she’s crazy. All the boys at school are scared of her.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you scared of her too?”

  He shook his head. “Naw. Stella’s all bluster, trying to prove she’s as good as everyone else. I think she’s just scared herself, and that makes it worse.”

  “Does she have any friends?”

  “I guess. But they’re terrified of her too. She threatens everyone if they don’t do what she says.”

  “Alex, I promised you we would make decisions together about what we were going to do, not just me deciding alone. Do you want to return to Lawrence? I can start saving the money for train tickets.”

  Staring at his legs, which softly thudded against the bottom of the chaise, he thought a moment before meeting her gaze. “I like it here better. Mrs. McCord reminds me of Granny, and I like the sheriff too. I have new friends here.” He stared, unblinking, then added, “Marry Mr. McCord, sissy. If you really want to.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lucie stood with her back to the closed apartment door and straightened her dress, wishing she had more than the two she’d brought with her from Massachusetts. They were looking threadbare. She was supposed to meet Sebastian and Martha downstairs for lunch, and was petrified. It had been so much easier to simply sign a piece of paper and get on a train the first time. Now, however, she would be face-to-face with her intended husband. She pressed her palm against her chest, the rapid pounding of her heart beating out a fast tempo.

  “You can do this, Lucie Croft. You can do this.” She forced her feet to move, one step then another toward the stairs until she stood at the base; her hand gripping the railing, unable to let go. She knew this was her best option. Sebastian owned the hotel and his home. He could support them. She wouldn’t have to worry about the next meal or if she and Alex would have a place to sleep.