Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) Page 9

  She watched the door close behind him with a sharp snick. “Well, at least one of us seems to have found a bit of happiness.”

  Wrapping her arms around her waist, she walked outside and leaned against the porch railing, rubbing at the ache inside of her chest. She had no idea how it had happened, but she wanted more from her marriage. So much more. With a hard shiver from the cold breeze coming in from the North, she stared down the empty street, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth and hoping Stella had gone to see Martha.

  Glancing up at the darkening sky, she sighed, and went back inside to warm up the last dish for their supper. Neither she nor Alex had ever had chicken potpie, so their dinner would be interesting.

  Once the table was set and the food ready, she pulled out the dessert she’d made that afternoon. With the ingredients she’d found in the pie safe, along with the gift of a few eggs, milk, and cream from the cook at McCord’s, she’d managed to make a pudding dish, one of the few dishes she’d learned from her mother before she died. She hoped Sebastian and Stella liked it as much as she and Alex did.

  Just as she pulled dinner from the oven, Sebastian arrived early, true to his word, with his daughter in tow. She glared at Lucie, daring her to say something. No matter how much she wanted to, Lucie knew it would only make matters worse, and she refused to play the six-year-old’s game.

  The evening sped by and before she knew it, Sebastian was tucking Stella into bed. Lucie nervously tugged on her blouse and, taking a deep breath, entered the room. “May I have a word?”

  The apprehension built inside her chest until she thought her lungs would burst. He glanced at her and nodded. Stella’s eyes narrowed. Heart pounding, Lucie forced the words through her dry lips. “I have asked Stella many times over the past week to clean her room—help me wash all of the clothes lying everywhere, pick up her books and guns, but she has refused. I told her yesterday that if she didn’t do it, I would do it for her, but she wouldn’t like it.”

  Lucie waited with bated breath. The longer it took for Sebastian to respond, the more her lungs begged for relief. The blank look on his face frustrated her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking or if he thought she’d overstepped her place. When he gave her a quick nod, her breath rushed out in a loud whoosh.

  “Is this true?” Sebastian asked his daughter.

  “Yes,” Stella mumbled.

  “Whether you like it or not, Lucie is a part of our family now. You will obey her and do what she says, Stella. Do you understand?”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned forward, giving her father a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned over onto her side and faced away from them.

  Sebastian stared at his daughter for a moment, then got up from the bed and walked toward Lucie. With his hand on the small of her back, he ushered her from the room and closed the door behind him.

  Lucie’s insides tingled from the weight of his hand, the transfer of heat through her blouse. She liked the warm feeling filling her as they walked side by side to the front of the house. It was the first time he’d touched her since the wedding. Each night he would crawl into bed, lying still beside her, and each night she prayed he would kiss her.

  Stopping in the middle of the living room, she forced her lips into a smile. “Are you returning to the hotel now?”

  He nodded and turned the front door knob but didn’t open the door. With his back to her, he spoke. “I know my daughter is a handful. I would like to know what you’re going to do to her room.”

  “You have given her many nice things, and all she does is throw them on the floor. I’m going to clean her room and take those things away. She needs to learn to appreciate what she has, Sebastian.”

  He nodded again, and without another word, shut the door behind him.

  With a sigh, she went to the bedroom to prepare for bed.

  * * *

  He stood in the middle of the house, moonlight skittering over the furniture and softly illuminating the area surrounding him. The very clean area around him. The only other time the house had been this neat and tidy had been the day he and Stella had moved in. Ever since, the piles had continued to grow.

  Since Maggie left, he used to tell himself he didn’t have time, what with running the hotel and taking care of Stella. But he knew it had all been an excuse. He simply hadn’t cared. In his effort to be a good father, he had failed his daughter. He used to think he had something to prove to everyone who told him he shouldn’t be raising his daughter alone. Now he wondered if his relationship with his father—or lack of one—had shaped him into what he’d fought so hard not to become—his father. Had pride done this to them both?

  He glanced at the corner cabinet to see the white dishes sparkling with a soft glow. There was even a bowl full of autumn plants, the yellows and oranges adding a splash of color against the dark table. The kitchen was also spotless, not a crumb in sight.

  Slowly turning the knob to his daughter’s room, he glanced over at the small bundle underneath the yellow quilt. He loved his daughter, but he simply didn’t know what to do with a girl. His mother was right. He was raising her as he had been raised—as a little boy. The messiness of Stella’s room and the tidiness of the rest of the house was painfully obvious now that Lucie had pointed it out to him. He was just so busy…or was he creating the work as an escape? He didn’t want to look too closely at that question. He was afraid of the answer.

  He closed the door and also glanced into Alex’s room. The floor of the boy’s room was spotless, his shoes tucked neatly next to his bed. A small pile of clothes, still folded, lay on the dresser with his small lunch pail and tablet beside them. A soft, snuffling snore sounded from the middle of the bed then he turned over, pulling the covers up over his small shoulder. Sebastian smiled. Alex was a good kid.

  Because of Lucie.

  He stared at the closed door of his own room, his tread light against the hallway’s wooden floor. Creeping into his room, he changed out of his clothes and slid under the quilt, quickly turning onto his left side, finding himself in front of Lucie’s sleeping face.

  Her long black eyelashes created thick crescents on her cheeks. Her pink lips were slightly parted as she made a quiet puffing noise in her sleep. The long flow of her braid mesmerized him as it draped over her shoulder and arm, her hand tucked underneath her pillow. In the moonlight, her hair looked shiny and black as a raven’s wing. The moon’s soft glow highlighted her pale skin.

  She was so young, and compared to the women he was around all day, fragile. She wasn’t as skittish as she had been when she and her brother had first arrived at the hotel. She’d put on some weight, which he liked. She was so beautiful.

  He reached out and held a loose strand of hair that had escaped her thick braid; caressing the silky hair, rubbing it between his fingers and thumb. It was as soft as he’d believed it to be. He slowly moved his gaze back to her face and found her green eyes staring back at him.

  “I’ve wanted to touch your hair since I saw you sitting like a lost mouse in my hotel.”

  She blinked but didn’t say anything, simply continued to stare. He saw the trust in her eyes, and something else he couldn’t quite grasp.

  He let her hair fall back to the mattress and tucked his own hand between his head and the goose feather pillow. Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, surprised at the warmth spreading through him from that small touch. Pulling away just enough to hold her wide-eyed gaze, he whispered, “Thank you, Lucie.” The icy wall around his heart cracked as he stared into her eyes.

  Her shapely brows drew together. “For what?”

  “For everything. You have worked a miracle on my home—I’ve never seen it so clean. For making sure there’s food on the table and sitting down like a family should. For caring about my daughter.” What he’d said wasn’t enough. He would change that though. He would figure out a way to show her too. Somehow.

  Chapter Eleven

 
Lucie spent most of the day cleaning, her mind constantly thinking about the night before. Sebastian had kissed her! Her heart fluttered like a bird in her chest as she remembered the softness of his lips on hers, the tenderness in his eyes. Thoughts of what might happen tonight had filled her with nervous energy.

  Now, however, she was more worried than scared…especially since it had taken her the entire day to clean her new daughter’s room. From her vantage point at the living room window, she watched as her brother sauntered up the walk.

  With a smile, he pushed the door closed behind him. “Hi, sissy!”

  Giving him a quick hug, she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “How was school?”

  “Boring, as usual. Today was a review for the test tomorrow, so we reviewed.”

  “Didn’t Stella walk home with you?”

  “She was chasing after her friend, Peter, so I came on home.”

  “Okay then. Go study for your test. And if you hear screaming, come and rescue me.”

  “Huh?” He gave her a quizzical stare.

  “I cleaned Stella’s room.”

  He shook his head with a rueful grin. “You’re in for it then. She’s not gonna be happy with you.”

  Lucie shrugged. “Oh well, she’ll get over it.” As Alex closed his door, she turned and muttered under her breath, “I hope.” A minute later, she heard Stella clomping up the porch stairs.

  She’d followed through on her threat from the night before and now had to reap the consequences. She couldn’t help but wish that Sebastian were here to back her up. Without a doubt, Lucie had a very good idea the little girl wasn’t going to like her clean room one bit. But it was the revenge she was worried about.

  The screen door squeaked open then slammed behind her while she pretended to wipe the counter. The six-year-old’s worn boots clomped across the wooden floor toward her bedroom. She waited, expecting to hear a scream or worse, but she only heard silence. Frowning, she dropped the rag and peeked into the bedroom.

  Standing at the end of her bed, Stella’s wide eyes roamed her spotless room. Her mouth hung open.

  Lucie had worked hard most of the morning and into the afternoon, washing clothes, folding and putting them in the small armoire. Then she’d washed the bedsheets, which looked as if they hadn’t seen the washtub in months.

  After remaking the bed and placing a pretty china doll with a dark green silk dress against the pillow, she gathered up the rest of the books, dolls, and guns. Those items, she placed in the storage bottom of the window seat in hers and Sebastian’s bedroom.

  “My room is so beautiful!” Stella turned her wide brown eyes to her. “You did all this today?

  “Yes.” The young girl was adorable, with her face all scrunched up as she waited for Lucie’s answer. “Do you like it?”

  Stella’s gaze traveled around the room again. “I never knew it could be so nice. Can you teach me to do this too?” She shook her head, her ponytails swishing her ears. “It bothered me—the house and my room being messy, but papa didn’t seem upset. I don’t know how to clean.”

  Lucie walked over and sat down on the end of the bed, putting herself on the same level. “It is much easier to pick up a few things every day than a bunch of things once a year.”

  Stella giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her very dirty hand.

  “We can do what my mother did when I was your age. Would you like that?”

  “You were my age?”

  It was Lucie’s turn to giggle. “Yes I was, believe it or not, and my mother insisted on everything being spotless, including myself. Since I took care of all the hard stuff today, let’s concentrate on cleaning you this evening.”

  Her scowl returned. “I hate taking showers.”

  “Hmmm, well I would have to agree with you there. I think it would be awfully cold standing naked under droplets of water, even if they were warm. So, you can do what I love doing. I take a bath—and I will even let you use my special soap.”

  Her scowl deepened. “What’s so special about soap?”

  “Mine smells like a field of flowers. Lavender.”

  “Will I like it?”

  “I think you will. Would you like to smell it first and then decide?”

  Stella thought a moment then nodded. “All right. If I like it, can I take a bath before dinner? I want to smell pretty for papa.”

  “Deal.”

  She ran from her room toward the bathroom. When Lucie walked into the hallway, Alex’s door opened and he stuck his head out.

  “That was a complete surprise. You worked a miracle, sissy!”

  She smiled and tweaked his chin. “Life is looking up a bit more. After giving her a bath, I’ll have to start on dinner, which terrifies me more than fighting Stella.”

  He gave her a half-hearted shrug and stepped back to close the door. “If you need me, I’ll be practicing my penmanship.”

  Stella had already undressed and was standing in the tub with the water running. Lucie stuck her hand underneath the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. “Perfect. Now, for my special soap.” She lifted the small soap dish off the shelf and held it down for the little girl to sniff.

  Stella hesitated, her head cocked to one side and her lips pursed, then leaned forward and sniffed. Her eyes widened. “It really does smell like a field of flowers! I like lavender too!”

  The next thirty minutes was an adventure to say the least, with all the splashing and laughing she’d done. Lucie glanced down at her dress, rubbing her palms over the large damp splotches, then turned her gaze back to the tub. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you left more dirt in the bottom of this tub than I could find outside.”

  Stella giggled and pulled her brush through her wet hair. “You’re just funnin’ me, aren’t you? There’s bunches more dirt outside.”

  She walked up behind her, her hands on her hips. “Would you like for me to help?”

  Stella handed her the brush.

  “How would you like me to fix your hair?” she asked.

  The little girl shrugged. “I dunno. Papa can’t make my hair pretty like yours.”

  She turned her around and knelt in front of her. “Do you trust me?”

  Stella stared, unblinking, for a few seconds then nodded. “Grandma Martha says you’re a good person and that I should give you a chance. That you’ve never had a daughter just like I’ve never had a mama.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes and her nose burned as Lucie held her breath.

  “I trust you, Lucie.”

  With a bit of squirming from Stella, she finally managed to get the girl’s fine brown hair up into a curly ponytail. After trying on several different dresses, they found one that still fit. With her arms on Stella’s small shoulders, she walked her to the large dressing mirror in the corner of her room.

  Stella’s mouth dropped as she twisted and turned in front of the mirror. “You made me pretty!” She turned and clasped her hands around the back of Lucia’s knees then just as quickly turned back around and stared at her reflection again. “Can I go to school like this too?”

  “Of course you can! I would love to help you with your hair in the mornings, and picking out nice dresses. You can look like this all the time if that’s what you want.”

  Stella cocked her head to one side, swishing the curly ends of her ponytail around. “What about riding horses? And chasing foxes?”

  Lucie fought back the smile and tried to keep a serious, thoughtful look on her face, which was almost impossible as Stella continued to make the ponytail bob up and down. “Well, maybe your father would let us buy you some special clothes for when you know you’re going to get dirty. But not little boy clothes. You’re not a little boy.”

  Stella’s brows puckered together. “No, I’m not. I’m a girl.” She bounced over to her bed and crawled on top of the quilt and pulled her reader out from her lunch pail. “I’m gonna sit right here so papa can see how pretty I am when he gets home.”<
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  Lucie let the smile she’d been trying to hide break free and spread across her face until her cheeks ached. “I think that’s a marvelous idea.” She picked up the towel and hung it over one arm. “Now I need to get supper started.”

  * * *

  Lucie was proud of herself. The chicken was turning brown, popping and sizzling in the hot grease, and the peas and potatoes were simmering on the back burners of the small stove. She even had a peach cobbler baking in the oven.

  She spread a pretty green damask tablecloth over the table then set four place settings. She had almost finished filling the glasses with tea when the potatoes started boiling over. Grabbing a dishrag, she hurried over to the stove and, reaching over the chicken, picked up the lid.

  Without warning, the grease caught fire. She jerked her arm away from the growing flames, but water from the inside of the lid fell into the boiling grease with a loud hiss then splattered everywhere. When her sleeve burst into flames, she dropped the lid with a scream and

  raced to the sink where she dunked her arm into the tub of water she’d used earlier to wash dishes. The soapy water burned her singed skin.

  “Lucie!” Alex yelled and raced across the room where he picked up the lid she’d thrown on the floor and dropped it over the high flames. Turning to her, he pulled her arm from the bowl. With sudsy water dripping from her elbow, he gently picked at the burned material, pulling it away from her skin.

  He let out a relieved sigh. “Doesn’t look too bad. It’s really pink but there’s no blisters. Least, not yet.” He grimaced. “But your blouse is ruined.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she could feel the slight shaking of his body as he clutched her tightly to him. Rubbing his back, she kissed the top of his head. “Alex, what’s wrong? It was only a small accident. You said my arm was fine.”

  Sniffing a couple of times, his thin arms held on tight to her waist. “I know, but what if something bad had happened?” He raised his tear-stained face. “You’re all I’ve got left, sissy.”