Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) (8 page)

“What do you want?” she muttered, loudly sniffing.     

“Look, I know you don’t know us and probably think we’re butting in on your family—”

“You got that right.”

“This could be good for you too. If you let it.” He took a few steps forward but stopped when she glared. “Lucie is a great person. She stayed and took care of me after our parents died.”

Stella frowned, her brown eyes losing some of their sadness. “Your mama and your papa died?”

He nodded. “Our house burned down. Lucie had taken me to the library. Mama read to me every night, and that morning, she’d asked Lucie to take me. I never saw them again.” He walked to the bed and sat down, noticing she’d forgotten to glare at him this time.

“All I wanted to tell you was that Lucie is really, really nice. She lets me do fun things. She’s the best big sister I could ever have.” He took a quick breath and blurted out, “I’d like to share her with you—if you’d like.”

“Why would you do that? She’s only going to take my papa away from me.”

His head jerked sideways and he narrowed his eyes at her. “No she isn’t. She hardly knows your papa. Besides, he’s only marrying her because you’re mean and don’t act like a girl.”

She punched him in the shoulder and yelled, “I do too!’

He rubbed his arm and scowled at her. “You do not! Girls aren’t supposed to hit people!”

Her lips trembled and her wide eyes filled with tears. “I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

He let out a disgusted sigh. “No, you’re not bad, just mean. You’re fighting something inside of you and don’t know how to get it out, aren’t you?”

She stared at the floor. “I don’t like being mean. Alex, will you help me?”

“I felt the same way after my parents died. If it weren’t for Lucie…well, she understood how I felt and helped me. She can help you too, if you let her.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

He patted her hand. “She’s patient. I can try to help you too, but you have to promise to listen to me, even when you’re crazy mad.”

She smiled at him, and for the first time, he knew she meant it.

Chapter Nine

Martha
fussed with Lucie’s hair, placing another pin in the already heavy coiffure. She’d be picking pins out for hours. Her hair may have been thick and long, but it was silky and tended to fall out of anything other than the braid she usually wore down her back or wrapped in a knot on the back of her head. Martha wouldn’t have it, however, and insisted on fixing it herself.

Lucie felt nauseated. Now that she was dressed, just enough color pinched into her cheeks, and hair done, she wanted to run down the stairs and out the door…to anywhere but the church. She still hadn’t a clue as to why she’d agreed to a church wedding; no one would be there but them. It would have been easier to go before the minister in his office—even the judge for that matter. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now.

Martha stepped back and gave her an appraising look and made one last adjustment to the gauzy bow at the small of Lucie’s back. “You are a beautiful bride.” Rising onto the balls of her feet, Martha kissed her on the cheek. “One more thing…” Something cold touched Lucie’s collarbone. “There. Now, you’re perfect.”

Lucie stared at her reflection in the mirror, the small diamond glittering in its thin bed of gold against her collarbone. “Martha, I can’t accept this.”

“Oh, pshaw. I will never have a daughter. It will make me happy to see you wearing it.” She touched the locket with the tip of her finger. “My mother gave me this necklace on my wedding.” She met Lucie’s gaze. “You can give it to Stella—your daughter—on her wedding day.”

Lucie couldn’t look her in the eye. Overcome, she wrapped her arms around the older woman’s neck. Becoming a mail-order bride may have been why she’d traveled to Tennessee, but actually going through with a marriage was something else altogether. She was terrified. She didn’t know the first thing about being a wife, even if it was in name only.

She dropped her arms and glanced back at her reflection, fidgeting with her lace cuff. A heavy pressure covered her chest and breathing hurt.
She was going to be Stella’s mother
. A mother to an angry little girl who hated and despised her. There was a slight tug on her arm, and she met Martha’s concerned gaze.

“Are you all right? All the color just drained from your face.” Martha’s brows drew together as she stared up into Lucie’s eyes. “You aren’t going to faint are you? I may be stronger than I look, but you’d squash me like a fly if you were to swoon.”

A nervous giggle escaped through her pinched lips. “I’ll be okay. Thankfully, I never swoon, so you should be all right too.” She held the older woman’s hand against her trembling arm. “Thank you, Martha. For being here with me—for everything. I’m just a little scared.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. That’s what mother’s do.”

* * *

Sebastian growled at the small bowtie as the two strands fell limply against his chest. He stared at the hair lying on his forehead. Not even his hair wanted to cooperate with him today. No matter how many times he combed it back or added a bit of wax to it, the stubborn hair refused to stay slicked back.

He caught a glimpse of John’s amused grin in the mirror and turned around. “Am I doing the right thing, John? After Maggie left, I vowed never to marry again. I couldn’t relive that pain…yet here I am, about to take another wife.”

“It’ll be good for Stella to have a woman about. Your ma has her hands full with that one, no doubt, but she’s gettin’ up in her years. She’s havin’ a hard time tryin’ to discipline the child when all she wants to do is smother her with love. She just wants to be a grandmother. ”

“Has she told you this?”

John shook his head. “Wouldn’t think to, your ma. Martha’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met, but she worries about you and that little girl. Worries a lot.”

Sebastian turned back and retied the black strings, which actually resembled a small bow this time. Pulling the loops tight, he adjusted them under the points of his collar, then nervously pulled down his vest. He buttoned his coat and turned back around to face the sheriff who, he noticed, had changed and brushed his hair. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t seen him wearing a hat. “Don’t know that I’ve ever seen you in such fancy clothes before. Or without a hat.”

John brushed his hand over his newly trimmed mustache and grinned. “Nope, but I clean up right nice, if I say so myself. Your ma won’t even recognize me in this getup.”

“When are you going to ask my mother to marry you?”

John cleared his throat a couple of times, his cheeks turning a dark pink. “I don’t—”

“Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been in love with her going on ten years now.”

“Won’t matter none. Until she hears your pa is dead, she won’t give me any consideration at all.” He opened the bedroom door and held it open. “Now’s not the time for this discussion anyway. We’ve got a weddin’ to get to. That little girl needs a strong man like you. She also needs a ma…she just doesn’t know it yet.”

They walked in silence down the sidewalk, the church only a little ways up the street from his house. He was thankful his mother had kept Stella overnight. The last time he’d tried to get his daughter into a dress, she’d climbed the large oak in the backyard and wouldn’t come down until he’d promised she could wear pants. Maybe his mother would have better luck, but he doubted it.

Walking into the church, he sidestepped the unbelievable amount of people already sitting in the pews, and made his way to the front. How his mother had pulled this off, he’d never know.

The import of what he was about to do hit him like a slap in the face. He was getting married. He needed a stiff drink.

John pushed him forward. On jittery legs, he moved forward until he stood in front of the pulpit, his gaze roaming across the sea of faces. He recognized a few people; business acquaintances, employees, and even friends he’d gone to school with, but most filling the church were strangers. 

A trickle of sweat rolled down his spine, and his fingers itched to undo the tie, which felt like a noose around his neck. He heard a commotion somewhere at the back and grinned as his daughter started down the aisle, looking every bit an adorable little girl. Wearing a dress. His mother walked behind her, leading her to their appointed places in the front pew.

Stella returned his smile and started to dash forward, but stopped herself and slowly continued to their seats. Following just behind them was Alex, who looked sharp in his new suit. John hurried up the aisle and slid into the pew beside Alex.

Then Sebastian’s gaze fell on Lucie. He could see the fear in her eyes as she looked at him. He offered her a tentative smile and nodded. She straightened her shoulders and walked along the left side of the room until she took her place at his side. Her cheeks were rosy, and her soft green eyes sparkled. Her beautiful dark brown hair was piled on top of her head with long ringlets curling down the sides of her face. She was breathtaking.

The feeling wrapping around his heart scared him to death. Admittedly, he liked Lucie. She intrigued him. He found himself looking forward to being with her, getting to know her more…but every time he was with her, all he could think about, other than a strong desire to kiss her, was the agony he’d felt when his wife had abandoned him for another man. What if Lucie left him too? Was he such a bad person to love?

The minister kept their vows short, for which he was very thankful. Standing in front of a large group of strangers wasn’t something he wanted to do again soon, if ever. He followed the minister’s instructions and lightly held Lucie’s trembling left hand in his. He gave a slight tug, drawing her gaze up to his. Her pink lips pressed together. His thumb caressed her knuckles and her tremors calmed a bit.

He took the ring from the minister’s palm and slid it onto her third finger. It was a perfect fit. He held onto her finger a moment longer. “Something special for you,” he whispered. He met her soft green eyes, filled with wonder. Without being told, he leaned toward her and brushed his lips over hers in a light kiss. The knot in his gut changed from dread to an unfamiliar need, and he forced himself to pull away from her.

“These twain are made one,” the minister announced in a booming voice. When they turned to face their guests, he linked her arm through his. Hurrying her down the center aisle and through the large church doors, he only slowed to hand her up into the horse-drawn buggy waiting in the street.

Climbing up beside her, he took a quick breath then instructed the driver to his home.
Their
home
.

Good god, he was married.

* * *

Lucie’s mind reeled. She hadn’t known what to expect regarding a wedding, but that short ceremony hadn’t been it. Something had been missing, but she wasn’t sure what. She still had a profound emptiness inside her chest. Had she thought that by marrying Sebastian, her loneliness and anxiety would simply be erased? She watched as the houses passed by, and realized she had.

She’d convinced herself throughout the night that this marriage was a practical decision…but in her heart, she felt just as desperate as when she signed the contract to become a mail-order bride. Peering from the corner of her eye, she noticed her new husband looked even less thrilled, his face brooding and pensive as he stared ahead. Well, she was not a quitter. For better or worse, she was now Mrs. Sebastian McCord. She had no idea what he expected of her, nor what she was even capable of as a wife or mother, but she’d made a promise. And she never broke her promises.

“Here we are.”

She glanced over at her husband as he climbed down from the carriage. He held out his hand. Placing her palm against his warm one, she carefully stepped onto the street and looked around. In front of them stood a modest house with a white picket fence outlining the small yard. A chilly breeze moved through the vines growing up the columns on either end of the porch. She could hear the steady
scritch, scritch
as the branches scraped against the wood. In bloom, the front of the house would be magnificent. She could see herself drinking her tea, sitting in the comfortable-looking wicker chair.

“Oh, Sebastian, what a beautiful house!”

He stood beside her and stared at the house. “It’s small, but there are three bedrooms, and I just had indoor plumbing installed. Takes a bit of getting used to, but I think you will like it.”

“Other than the hotel, I’ve never lived in a home that had indoor plumbing,” she said, staring at his dimple, her stomach doing flip flops again.

He held out his arm. She tucked hers through the crook of his elbow and walked beside him as he led her into the house. The front room was a disaster waiting to happen. It seemed to her that neither Sebastian nor Stella picked anything up.

Piles of books leaned dangerously close to the unlit fireplace, and there were papers and clothes draped over the furniture. Thankfully there were few pieces of furniture, only a chaise and two high-backed chairs. One small round table nestled between the chairs, the dark walnut nicely accentuating the pale green upholstery. The table had a coffee mug and a dirty plate sitting on the edge.

Another table, this one square, was placed next to the settee, which was light burgundy with gold and green designs. Even though it was a complete mess, she immediately loved the space and wished it was cold enough for a fire.

They went to the kitchen next, which was grander than her parents’ and somewhat intimidating since she had no idea how to cook. Porridge she was capable of making, but any other dish was beyond her culinary skills. They had never had the money for her to learn to cook anything more. The wooden countertops hadn’t been wiped clean in a while. In the middle of the far wall was a sink, also filled with dishes. There was also a black stove with an icebox on one side and a copper boiler on the other. Dirty pans were stacked on the stove.

In the adjoining dining room there was a drop-leaf table with two high-backed ladder chairs. Two more chairs rested against the end wall, and in the far corner of the room stood a mahogany cupboard, empty other than a few glasses. Glancing back at the overflowing sink, she sighed. She knew what her first chore would be.

There wasn’t a lot of extra space, but the rooms were by no means small. “Alex is going to love this—as will I. The last place we lived in Lawrence would fit inside the front room.” She ignored the small frown he gave her and pointed to the closed door beside the boiler. “What’s in there?”

The frown disappeared as he grinned. “Something fantastic.”

She followed him, peering inside the room as he opened the door. “It’s a bath room!”

Sebastian moved so she could enter the small space. “I’ve heard of these but never thought I’d actually see one.” In the middle of the back wall stood a wooden stand with a built-in sink. A dirty white towel had been shoved over the hanger attached to the overhead shelf. There was a metal pipe running from the floor to behind the sink with a spigot and a wagon-wheel knob on the top. A brass mirror stood on top of the narrow shelf.

Ignoring the pile of towels and clothes beside the sink, she stared at the large wooden structure to her left. “What’s that?”    

“That’s a sheet lead bathtub.” He pointed to a metal box with a lever hanging off to one side. “The pipe running up the wall behind the shower is attached to the boiler in the kitchen. We can have a warm bath every day if we want without the hassle of heating water on the stove, which takes forever.”