Mail Order Bride – Charlotte's Summer: Clean Sweet Western Cowboy Romance (Seasons Mail Order Brides Book 1) (8 page)

C
harlotte had made
a promise to herself when she boarded that train for Helena, that no matter what happened, she would never shed another tear over a man. Her temper had gotten the better of her though, and now she was both humiliated and embarrassed by her childish behavior. Had she seriously just asked someone to make a choice between her and a farmyard animal?

While Thomas was busy securing Rosy back in her pen and locking the gate, something he never did – all the while mumbling apologies to the forlorn pig – Charlotte ran outside and found a tall tree at the front of the property. She slumped against it until her back slid all the way down and she met the grass with a jolt. But she didn’t care. She was hurting. She was hurting terribly. Hiding her face in her hands was the only way she could hide.

The sky chose that exact moment to open and the rain began to fall. It was light at first, barely a sprinkle or two, but it soon grew heavy and began to soak through Charlotte’s clothes.

But she barely noticed.

Hot, salty tears scorched her eyes and then exploded down over her cheeks with every wave of regret that she felt. Before long it wasn’t clear where the rain ended and her tears began. Never had she intended to fight with Thomas, that’s not how her day had started, but now she feared she could never look him in the eye again.

Footsteps slowly approached off to one side, the rustling of grass beneath worn-out boots the only sign that she wasn’t alone out in the middle of the paddock, but Charlotte didn’t dare glance up and instead buried her face even further into her arms. Thomas would surely send her packing back to Seattle after this and then she would be all alone again. Dread settled deep inside her and pinned her body to the ground.

Everything was quiet for a long while then, the shower of rain against the roof the only sound that filtered through the air. Charlotte knew she had to say something though; it was only right after the way she’d behaved.

Just as she was fixing to make amends, her breath escaped her and a pair of warm, strong hands lifted her to her feet like she weighed nothing at all. Thomas tipped her chin with one finger and lowered his face a little so he could stare deep into the only set of eyes that had ever caused him so much turmoil and so much happiness all at the same time.

He studied her face, her sculpted cheekbones and her tiny little lips – the color of a summer rose just about to bloom. He loved the creamy texture of her skin, the daintiness of her earlobes and he delighted in the way her nose crinkled every so often, creasing her freckles up on her cheeks.

“I need to tell you something,” he whispered. He took a deep breath, reaching across to wipe away the last of her tears. “I’ve lived on my own for some time now. Before that my grandparents did the best they could to raise me. They divided their time trying to run this place too, but it was difficult for all of us. The way I see it, they were grieving just as much as I was. They lost their only daughter after all. For a small boy that’s hard to understand, but I’m a man now Charlotte and it’s time I stop blaming everyone else for my hardships.”

Charlotte sucked back a heavy breath. The honesty and the rawness of Thomas’s words clawed away at her insides and her chest grew heavy with nothing but sympathy for him. It suddenly dawned on her. It wasn’t that Thomas was incapable of loving someone … it was just that he’d forgotten how. No one had showed him in a while.

He continued. “I’m sorry I raised my voice back there. It won’t happen again … but it seems I got a real soft spot for that pig. She’s been my only real companion out here since my Poppa left me here all alone. Not that I need to be telling you anything about what being alone feels like.”

He gathered up one of Charlotte’s hands in his and held it there a while. It felt right, like that’s exactly where it always belonged.

“You’ll never be alone again, Charlotte. I’ll never pick anyone else over you,
never
. You’re it for me Charlotte, and I hope – more than I’ve ever hoped for anything else in my life – that I will be it for you, too.”

Charlotte’s heart felt fit to burst right there in the middle of the land, overcome with emotion as it was and her eyes welled with a fresh round of tears. She was just about to tell Thomas that she felt exactly the same way … when a loud grunt was heard from around the side of the house.

Thomas turned slightly and then shook his head, water spraying from it in every direction. Another loud grunt, followed closely by a deep, primal moan and Thomas flinched. The whimpering that came between the louder howls was intermittent and only lasted a few seconds before the wailing started up all over again.

“Oh, Thomas!” cried Charlotte. “Quick, quick … it’s Rosy. She’s gone into labor!”

Thomas snatched Charlotte’s hand even tighter and the pair set off running toward the pig pen. The mud was thick and slippery as the rain poured down now, and they both threatened to end up face first in the mess if they weren’t more careful. Thomas unlatched the lock and found Rosy lying on her side, groaning and heaving, her body convulsing as each new contraction hit her harder and harder. Her eyes were half closed and her little, stubby legs twitched with the pain of it all.

Charlotte gasped, dropping to her knees right beside Rosy’s head. She patted the pig slowly, gingerly even – not entirely sure how Rosy might react to her being so close. But the pig welcomed the reassuring gesture and rested her head on Charlotte’s lap, looking up at her, one woman to the other, connected on a level that no man might ever understand. “There, there … there’s a good girl. I know it hurts but you’re a brave pig and it’ll all be better soon.”

Thomas moved further into the pen and held out his hand. “Stand back, Charlotte, this will get right messy from past experience. Let me help you up again.”

“No, Thomas … she needs me right now.”

“But you’re getting mud all over you. Let me take care of this.”

“We’re going to be a family soon, Thomas, so we either learn to do things together or we don’t do them at all. Now, come and help down the other end … that part I’m certainly not touching.”

Thomas dropped to his haunches in the mud right beside Charlotte. He watched in wonder at the way Rosy nestled her head into Charlotte’s lap, finding comfort somehow in her gentle words.

It astounded him.

Rosy had never given anyone else the time of day, and now here she was, writhing around in pain, and Charlotte was the only one she wanted. He smiled to himself as he moved to clear out a space inside her pen. He laid down some fresh hay and pulled a few sheets of timber over the top of the stall to offer them some shelter from the rain. Water was pooling in the divots of Rosy’s hooves and he wanted to keep the area as dry and protected as he could once the piglets arrived.

For the next hour solid, Thomas paced back and forth like any expectant father might and Charlotte nursed Rosy through the worst of it, whispering sweet words of encouragement into her pointy, pink ears.

After a few more groans, the likes of which had Charlotte rethinking the idea of childbirth altogether, the first of the tiny piglets slithered its way out into the world and started squawking and squealing so loud that it rivaled the rain pouring down around them. Junior was right on the money – six girls and six boys would make up Rosy and Snog’s happy family.

Charlotte burst into tears again, scooping the messy little bundles up into her arms. She held them to her chest and rocked back on forth like it was the most natural thing in the world. Catching Thomas in the corner of her eye, she looked up … and lo and behold, the most incredible thing happened right there in the middle of all the chaos.

Thomas smiled at her.

Not just any smile though. It was the most enormous, beautiful, heart-melting smile she’d ever seen. One that, for whatever reason, he’d chosen to keep to himself this whole time. Now that he’d shared it with her, there was no going back and Charlotte looked forward to seeing that smile every day for the rest of her life.

Once Rosy was settled again and the piglets were happily feeding on their mother’s milk, Charlotte looked down at herself. Her hands were caked in thick, brown mud, her dress was soaked through and her hair was plastered to each side of her face. She looked a wreck. Though when she glanced over at Thomas again, who seemed completely exhausted, but as content as any proud father might be, she realized he didn’t look much better.

She started to laugh. And then so did Thomas.

He tried to contain himself, he really did, but what was the point? Charlotte had seen him at his worst and he’d seen her in much the same light, so he flopped back down into the mud beside her and continued to laugh until his sides ached. He’d never laughed so hard in all his life, and the fact that he had Charlotte right there beside him to laugh with, made his armor disintegrate and get washed away with the torrent of water that was seeping slowly into the ground.

He paused, knowing he had to make things right. He owed it to Charlotte.

Taking her left hand in his – covered in grime as it was, yet still the most precious thing he’d ever held – Thomas Ackerman looked deep into the ocean and decided to take the biggest swim of his life. He dived straight in, headfirst, without hesitation, he said, “Charlotte. Lovely Charlotte, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes!” Charlotte shrieked, still laughing.

Thomas laughed too. “It would make me mighty proud to call you my wife.”

Charlotte looked down at their entwined fingers and couldn’t believe how perfectly they slotted together. Thomas seemed to like holding her hand for some reason, and if the truth be told, she liked it too, so they sat there for a while, just holding hands and enjoying the idea of being officially engaged.

Thomas Ackerman was a good man.

A kind man.

A gentle man.

He might not have been the most romantic man, or offered her the most grand of proposals, but every single part of her filled with devotion for him.

He was
her Thomas
… and she knew that that’s the way it would stay.

T
he days
that followed were filled with much of the same. Cooking, cleaning and making preparations for the upcoming wedding. Thomas and Charlotte traded shy glances as they cared for the piglets – watching the other blush or grin with the silly look of a love-sick teenager – and by the time Sunday morning rolled around, the entire town was aflutter with anticipation of the pending nuptials.

Once the preacher finished up with his sermon, a rather short one too Thomas got to thinking, considering the good hour he’d taken to get his point across the week before, the congregation dispersed faster than it ever had before and Thomas said his goodbyes as he headed off in the wagon.

He was soon to be married and nothing could destroy his good mood. He felt like he was floating about on a cloud. He was excited by his plans for the morning, and nothing was going to derail him – the river banks would be full at this time of the year and he planned on spending a few hours down there while he filled the wagon to the brim. Then he had to hurry back to the ranch and arrange everything just so for their wedding day.

He wanted it to be perfect for Charlotte. She deserved the very best and Thomas had it set in his mind that he was going to be the one to give it to her – so he put off paying his respects to his Ma and Pa and promised to stop by one day through the week.

Louise Calhoun and Mabel Clay had somehow taken charge of all things bridal. Charlotte sat in the chair in Louise’s spare room and let the two women fuss over her. They were actually getting on for a change, so Charlotte just let them go about their business without causing too much of an objection.

For hours they styled her hair just so, curling it and teasing it and pinning it in ways Charlotte had never seen before. But she loved it when they were finished and she knew Thomas would too. It was lady-like and classy and elegant all rolled into one. When they were done, both ladies stood back and gazed in wonder at Charlotte’s exquisiteness.

Louise fixed a veil securely in place and tucked a tiny bow into a curl right beside her ear. “Just a little something special from me to you. Now hurry along Charlotte and slip on your dress. You’ve been spending so much time out at the ranch that we had to guess with the alterations. I hope the waist is small enough, you’re only a slip of a thing compared to me on my wedding day.”

Mabel handed Charlotte her mother’s tea-colored handkerchief. “We’ve only a few minutes to spare before we need to leave. People will start talking otherwise, and there’s nothing worse than that, I swear it, nothing worse at all.”

In no time at all, Charlotte was boarding the wagon and making her way toward the farm. On passing the small church, Charlotte felt a little poignant but she let it go.

Nothing was going to spoil her day.

She squeezed the handkerchief in her hand and instantly felt the love pour through her body. Her parents were watching over her and she knew in some innate way that they would be sitting right up front today, smiling down on her.

As they pulled to a halt at the front of the house, Junior suddenly made an appearance, one hand covering his eyes, the other arm flailing around as he fought to make his way through the group of women who had descended,
oohing
and
aahing
, and all the while trying to sneak first glimpse of the beautiful bride.

“Pa says I ain’t to peek, but if it suits you Miss Charlotte, it’d be my grayonya to walk ya down the aisle.”

“Great honor,” Charlotte corrected him.

“Yeah, one of those! I promise, Miss Charlotte, I won’t let ya down.”

Charlotte smiled at the boy and peeled his fingers away from his face. It delighted her no end when Junior’s eyes lit up as bright as stars in the sky when he saw her in her dress. He’d never seen anything quite so fanciful before. She was as magnificent as any woman he’d ever laid eyes on – beside his Ma o’ course – and he’d been looking for a whole eight years now.

“Well, since you’ve gone and worn your Sunday best, then I think it only fair to grant you this noble task. I would love nothing more than for you to accompany me down the aisle.”

Junior bounced around on his feet and then held out the crook of his arm, waiting for Charlotte to ready herself. “There’s quite a crowd waiting, Miss Charlotte. They’s gonna die when they see you comin’.”

Charlotte paused a moment to catch her breath, her hand resting on the porch railing. And that’s when she noticed it. Just sitting right there like it always belonged. Not
one,
but
two
wicker chairs. They both faced in the same direction, overlooking the paddocks where the cattle were mainly head down, chewing peacefully on the long grass off by the boundary fence.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Pa says it’s my duty to get you there on time, Miss Charlotte,” said Junior, craning his neck back to see her face. “Can we please get going now or I might find myself bent over a barrel?”

The pleading look in Junior’s eyes and the way his dimple sunk a little further into his cheek set Charlotte into action and she smiled back at the boy, happy to go along with whatever he wanted. He had a way of wrapping people around his little finger and Charlotte was certainly no exception. She sucked back another deep breath and as they rounded the back of the house – heading for a part of the land she’d never seen before – she took the very first, tentative step into the unknown.

Her future.

It took Charlotte a moment to absorb everything at once. Of course she knew lawn to be green, her memory told her so, but she’d never seen a color so vibrant before as the meadow stretched out before her.

Two tall willow trees framed each side of the make-shift aisle, letting just enough sunlight through so that it danced across the faces of each and every guest. Beneath the garden trellis that separated the house from the fields, Charlotte caught a glimpse of pink. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but as she walked through the archway and out into the other side, her heart stopped for real this time.

She couldn’t believe it. There was pink as far as the eye could see.

Every inch of ground was covered in bitterroots. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. Small bunches of bitterroot flowers were gathered together with pretty white ribbons at the end of each row and the altar was draped with an enormous spray of green, delicately sprinkled with even more bitterroot blooms. Charlotte doubted there was a bitterroot left in the whole of Montana, and in that moment, she couldn’t have been any happier. Who knew?

Thomas Ackerman was a romantic after all.