Patchwork Bride (15 page)

“Howdy, Shane!” she shouted.

“Think she’s got a crush on you.” Braden chuckled as he leaned his forearms on the top board of the fence.

“She’s a good kid.” He waved back, earning Minnie’s wide grin. She disappeared inside the buggy as it bounced on the rutted roads and turned the corner. Trees hid the horse and vehicle, taking his heart with it.

“Minnie is not our problem.”

“Don’t even say it.” Shane slowed the filly to a walk. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“I know you couldn’t help yourself.” Braden, tough as nails, was not a man to succumb to the charms of any woman, but neither was he unfeeling. “You gave your best attempt not to fall for her.”

“It wasn’t enough.” He reined the filly to a stop. He couldn’t help feeling he had made a mess of things, but on the other hand Meredith had been worth it. “Affection snuck up on me.”

“That’s how it happens. But I have to give you credit. It didn’t affect your work. That’s all I care about.” Braden climbed between the boards and held out his hand to the filly. “You are a fine horseman, Connelly.”

“Don’t you mean I will make one someday?” He dismounted, his boots hitting the earth.

“Nope. I mean you are one.” Braden smiled, a rare thing, and took the mare by the bits. “I’ll take her in. I’ve got a little time before I meet with Robert.”

“Do you think there’s any chance we could stay on?” The road was empty, all sign of Meredith was gone, but he felt her like a sonnet in his heart, like a hymn in his soul. “There is still work to do here.”

“We are at a good stopping place. The two-year-olds are saddle broke, the yearlings have most of the basics. We haven’t finished what we’ve agreed to do, but I’m not sure I can take any more drama.” Braden grinned over his shoulder. “The missus takes more work than the horses. We leave, and I won’t have to worry about the smell of horse manure bothering her when she’s gardening and the wind shifts.”

“Or the sound of horse hooves interrupting her reading. You want to move on, regardless of what Robert says.”

“That’s an affirmative.”

Shane knew it was coming, but the final answer hit like a blow. The idea of leaving Meredith behind was one thing, but the reality of it was another. The sun lost its warmth, the world its beauty and he felt alone in a way he’d never been before.

Meredith shifted in her seat, cradled her forehead in her hands and willed her mind on the open history book before her. But the facts of George Washington’s presidency kept evaporating like smoke and refused to stick in her brain. What did occupy her mind? Shane astride the black horse, his face shaded by his Stetson, his wide shoulders straight and strong, her very own beau. She’d picked up a lilac blossom she’d pressed in her book and twirled it. The scent from the tiny petals launched her back in time. Instead of her history book, it was last night’s history she reviewed—his story of Hobo, his dreams to farm and a sanctuary for abused horses.

Falling in love was not in her immediate plans, but she could no more stop her affections than keep time from ticking forward. She remembered the verse from Proverbs.
There are many plans in a man’s heart, nevertheless the Lord’s counsel—that will stand.
So much for her careful plans. She was not, in the end, in charge of them.

Something bumped her elbow. Scarlet nudged her
slate across the desktop with a one-word message scribbled in the corner.
Shane?

Meredith nodded, ready to scribble back an answer, but Miss Lambert peered their way. Oops. She returned her eyes to her textbook as Scarlet hastily erased the message with her slate rag. The wall clock counted down the minutes until lunch break. Restless, Meredith leaned forward to glance past Scarlet across the aisle to Fiona and Lila, who shared a seat. They were bent in study, Fiona’s curly black locks hiding her face, and Lila absently winding a stray tendril around one finger as she read.

Two rows over, Lorenzo Davis was staring openly at Fiona, lost in the look of her, affection poignant in his gaze. Poor Lorenzo. He had always carried a secret love for Fiona, who never had been interested in him. Proof enough that plans did not often work out because God was guiding them all. Perhaps there would be someone for Lorenzo when he was ready. She knew the rest of their circle would be thrilled to be beaued by the handsome man.

Miss Lambert’s handbell chimed above the sound of pages being turned and the industrious scratch of pencils on slates. Lunchtime. Movement erupted as students slammed books, launched out of their seats and conversations boomed. Meredith carefully set the tiny purple blossom on her page and closed the book.

“I’m starving.” Scarlet shot into the aisle. “I have a treat. I brought everyone cookies—”

“
Excuse
me.” Narcissa Bell pushed her way by, nose in the air.

“Honestly. What an attitude.” Lila rolled her eyes in response. “That girl bothers me.”

“Aren’t we suppose to find the good in everyone we meet?” Earlee said sweetly, book bag in hand.

“Yeah,” Kate agreed. “I’m sure there’s a speck there somewhere, but we might need a magnifying glass to see it.”

“A really big one,” Ruby agreed as she joined them in the aisle. “Has she always been like that?”

Narcissa was already out of sight, having pushed her way through the tussle of the crowd. Meredith followed Fiona’s gingham skirt between the desks toward the door. Sunlight glinted on the windows as they approached. “Is it me, or is Narcissa worse than normal?”

“Worse,” Lila agreed.

“Worse,” Scarlet seconded.

“Much worse,” Kate chimed in.

“Makes me miss her usual disposition. Almost.” Earlee smiled her contagious smile, making them all do the same. “I wonder what bee has gotten under her bonnet?”

“Good question.” Meredith took her lunch pail off the coat room’s shelf. “Maybe she’s jealous she’s not the first of our grade to get married like Fee is.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’s jealous of me.” Fiona, the dear that she was, grabbed her battered lunch tin and waltzed through the sun-washed door. “Although I did manage to find the best man in the county.”

“Probably the entire territory,” Kate agreed as they tromped down the stairs.

“Your Ian is to die for,” Scarlet added.

Her friends’ voices faded, coming as if from far away. The moment her shoe landed on the top step, she knew why. She felt his presence like grace to her soul.

Shane. He sat stride his Appaloosa at the edge of the road, mighty and forthright, everything a man ought to be. He tipped his hat to her, and the surprise and thrill of seeing him lifted her feet from the ground. She might very well have floated down the steps, for the lightness of her being, for the greatness of her love.

“Girls, it looks like Meredith has a beau.” Lila could not mask the delight in her words.

“A beau?” Kate sounded confused. “I thought she didn’t like him.”

“Shh,” Earlee whispered. “That’s the way love works sometimes.”

“Love?” Fiona sounded stunned. “Really? Our Meredith is in love, too?”

“What about her plans to teach?” Scarlet wanted to know.

Meredith hardly noticed her friends had stayed back, to let her go ahead. She was being pulled to Shane with a force that was beyond her will. He dismounted like a man who had been brought up on horses, striding across the grass toward her with easy, confident strides that made every other man in existence pale by comparison.

“Hello, beautiful.” He gathered her hands in his, gazing as if he could never get enough of her. “Hope you don’t mind I stopped by. I was in town on errands.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. Come join us.”

“Your friends won’t mind?”

She glanced around, but her friends—her dear friends—were nowhere in sight. This time alone with Shane was a gift, because she knew without asking this was their last day together. Sadness lay behind his smile and in his manner as his fingers twined tight to hers.

She led him to the steps, where they could sit and talk like any young courting couple. For fifty wonderful minutes, they were.

T
he first peal of the school bell came far too soon. Shane climbed reluctantly to his feet, hating that their time together was done. He held out his hand, assisting Meredith from the step. Children streamed around them into the schoolhouse, but he had eyes for only her.

“Braden and I have a lot to finish up before we leave.” His throat felt full and his chest tight. The weight of what he wanted to say was lodged in his throat. “I’ll be busy, but somehow I’ll figure out a way to see you.”

“I’m sure you will.” She nodded, scattering her golden mass of curls that bounced and sprang when she moved.

“There’s always the maple tree as a last resort,” he quipped, fighting to keep things light. He did not want to waste the moments they had left with inevitable sorrows.

Something touched his elbow—not something, someone. The haughty girl, the one Meredith didn’t like, settled her hand on his arm, an unwelcome touch.

“Hi there, Shane.” She preened up at him, eyelashes batting. “Have you heard from your mother lately?”

“What?” He pulled away, shocked by her forwardness. “Excuse me, but Meredith and I—”

“I hope she isn’t getting too attached to you.” Narcissa, honey sweetness and spite, turned to Meredith next. “My mother is friends with the Kellans.”

“So what?” Meredith ignored her, turning away. The stream of kids broke around them, barreling up the steps, barring his way to her.

“For your information, the Kellans are close friends with the Connellys of Virginia.” Narcissa smirked. “Don’t you know your senators? We learned them last November. Senator Stuart Connelly?”

“My father.” He broke through the trail of students to get to his beloved. He didn’t know what the rude girl was up to, but he didn’t like it. “I’m sorry, Meredith. I should have told you before this.”

“I don’t understand.” Confusion hazed her clear eyes.

“Some say he’ll go back home in time, after he’s done having fun and sowing his wild oats. He’s being groomed to take his father’s seat when he retires. You know what that means. He will need a proper lady at his side, not a teacher.” Narcissa, pleased to be the bearer of such news, smiled broadly as she tripped up the rest of the stairs. “I hope you didn’t think his act was sincere.”

“Act?” Meredith gripped the railing until her knuckles went white. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t believe her.” Shane was at her side. The final clang of the bell resounded overhead. The sky remained as blue, the sun as cheerful, but everything had changed.

“She knew who you were all along.” That explained a lot. Narcissa’s attempts to get his attention and to get close to him. It all made sense now. Her anger when those efforts hadn’t worked. And now the whole truth lay before her. His was no ordinary family. He was not the humble horseman he professed to be.

“There is no act, Meredith.” The words rang with sincerity and might, a voice of an honest man. He squared his shoulders, back straight, iron jaw set. The only softness that remained was the plea in his loving eyes. “My intentions toward you are honorable. You know that.”

“I apparently don’t know anything about you.”

“You know what matters. You know me.” He laid a hand to his chest, as if to bare his soul. “I meant to tell you about my family, but—”

A handbell chimed furiously. The teacher glared at them. “Time to come in, Meredith. Girls.”

Only then did she realize that her friends had held back, huddled together in the spill of sunshine, waiting and not wanting to interrupt. Their silent comfort and sympathy was a crutch she needed to lean on. She drew herself up, gathered her courage and faced the man who was full of apologies, almost as many of them as his unspoken truths.

“Let’s go in,” she told her friends. Turning away from Shane was like turning away from herself. Taking the first step toward the doorway was like ripping off a part of her soul. She left the real Shane Connelly behind as Miss Lambert shut the schoolhouse door.

“Maybe it isn’t as bad as it sounds,” Earlee soothed
gently, rubbing Meredith’s shoulder. “Maybe there’s a good explanation.”

“For betrayal?” She’d believed in him. She’d thought they were kindred spirits, two halves of the same soul. But he was exactly everything she didn’t want—someone with prominence, power and more money than compassion. She wanted an honest man, but the man she’d fallen in love with did not exist.

It was all a lie, and she was the fool. She followed Earlee through the schoolroom, aware of Narcissa in the back row laughing.

He hated having to ride away. Every step Hobo took on the road to the Worthingtons’ ranch, the image of Meredith walking straight-backed, slow and shaken, tormented him. That wasn’t the way he’d wanted her to learn about his family. He tugged his hat brim lower against the change in the sun as his horse rounded the corner and the manor house came into sight. If only Narcissa had spoken earlier, he would have had a chance to explain. Surely Meredith did not believe he had ever been anything less than one-hundred-percent sincere.

“There you are.” Braden emerged from the barn’s breezeway, his jaw set, a harness flung over his shoulder. “I just put up the missus’s horse and vehicle.”

“Sorry to leave you on barn duty.”

“It was never your job to begin with. I told Robert and the missus that they had better find someone quick. After today, neither of us will be here to play barn boy.” Braden shook his head as he hung the freshly cleaned harness on its proper wall hook. “There’s more trouble
afoot. The missus came home in a very happy mood. She asked about you twice.”

“You’re right. That does not sound good.” Either she had figured out he was courting her daughter or—

“Mr. Connelly?” The auburn-haired housemaid cleared her throat, framed by the wide barn door, her simple calico skirts rustling as she waltzed closer. “Mrs. Worthington is waiting for you up at the main house. If you would be so good as to come along with me?”

“Up to the house?” That was surely the last thing he wanted to do. A bad feeling gripped his stomach and clenched tight.

“What did I tell you?” Braden called after him. “Trouble.”

That was an understatement. Henrietta Worthington waited for him on the porch in what looked like her Sunday best. He might not know much about ladies gowns, but there was no missing the elaborate silks and adornments out of place in this country setting.

“Mr. Connelly, do come in.” With great courtesy, she gestured toward the open front door as if she were greeting nobility.

She knows, too.
Reluctantly, he took the stairs. “Good afternoon, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“Oh, no, that is entirely wrong. It’s what
I
can do for you.” She waited until he was through the threshold before following him in, completely ignoring the maid who trailed them. “Please sit down, make yourself comfortable. I have to say I’m most embarrassed that I didn’t recognize you first off.”

“Why would you?” He swept off his hat while he glanced around the well-appointed parlor full of
fine furniture and expensive knickknacks that looked exactly like the ones his mother collected. “My father is notable. I am not.”

“You are too modest, sir.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Your grandfather was senator before him and best friends with a former president of the United States.”

“The rumors of me following my father into politics are not true.” Might as well stop that notion in its tracks. He considered the comfortable-looking sofa the woman kept nodding him toward, but decided to stay standing. With hat in hand, he watched dismayed as she began pouring tea. Tension banded his chest, making it hard to breathe. “Not to be rude, ma’am, but I have work waiting.”

“Nonsense. A man like you doesn’t stoop to manual labor.” She plunked a steaming cup of tea confidently on the polished coffee table. “That Braden person can put up the horses. I’m sure you are used to a few finer comforts. I’ve instructed the maid to make up a room in the north wing—”

“Mrs. Worthington, no.” He had no time for this kind of nonsense and had long ago lost the stomach for it. “Thank you for your consideration, but I am the same person I was when I came here. Don’t put your maid to the trouble. I’ll stay the last night in the bunkhouse.”

“Nonsense. I’ve completely changed my mind about you leaving.”

And about seeing her daughter, he guessed. He plopped his hat on his head, his boots striking the floor as he retraced his steps. “My leaving is Braden’s decision. I’m his apprentice. If I want to keep my job, I’d best get back to the corral.”

“But—”

He seized the doorknob, yanked open the door and gave thanks for the blast of summery air. He breathed in the freedom of it and the tension released. Memories of growing up in a parlor full of rules and restrictions, his mother’s endless list of criticism, his father’s cool disdain and expectations, blew away like the dandelion fluff on the fragrant breeze. He followed the lilacs down the path, thinking of Meredith. Had she made the same assumptions her mother had? When she looked upon him next, would she see his father’s son or the man he was striving to be?

Afraid he already knew the answer, he tucked his fears deep and took off for the stables where his work and his boss were waiting.

Late-afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees as the buggy jolted along the rutted driveway. Meredith rubbed at the pain behind her right temple, but the ache persisted right along with the one in her heart.

“Mrs. Bell was quite pleased to show up Mama at the book club meeting.” Tilly reined Sweetie around the bend in the road and the stables and house came into sight. “After all, Narcissa recognized Shane when we did not. Apparently she had seen a picture of him when she’d visited relatives back east last summer. A friend of a friend sort of a thing. That’s why she recognized him and knew his name.”

“Everyone knows?”

“You know how rumors spread.”

“Mama knows.” That was the part she was dreading most.

“She’s ready to burst with excitement. One of the Virginia Connellys right here on our land.” Tilly didn’t look happy either. “She’s already planning the wedding.”

“Then she may as well plan for disappointment.” Meredith dreaded every step Sweetie took toward the stately looking home flanked by trees and surrounded by flowers. She wished she could slow time and prolong the inevitable from happening. She’d been broken apart enough today. Mama stepping in to take control would be akin to rubbing salt in a fatal wound.

“You must really be mad at him. I thought he might have told you but sworn you to secrecy.”

“No. I wasn’t important enough to him for the truth.” There had been plenty of opportunity, like last night when he’d brought her the lilacs. He’d told her a sad story about his heroism and a fine tale about his supposed dreams, but as sincere as he’d seemed at the time she knew him now to be false. He’d told her his family had fallen upon hard times, but that could not be true. Not if he were both a senator’s son and a senator’s grandson.

“I’m so sorry, Meredith.” Tilly hugged her tight. “Maybe you can work things out?”

“What is there to work out?” She set her chin with all the determination she could muster. “He’s a liar.”

“
I
still like him.” Minnie in the backseat leaned forward to poke her head in between them. “And you’re wrong. Shane wouldn’t lie. Maybe it just seems that way. The truth can sometimes look bad because it’s, well, it’s the truth. A lie can look good every time.”

“She has a point,” Tilly agreed, but there was little hope in her tone.

Meredith didn’t want hope, she wanted the hurt to stop. Everyone was quick to defend Shane, because he was from an impressive and influential family. But that man was a stranger to her. The buggy slowed as the driveway circled up to the house and Sweetie obediently stopped. They were home, but it was the last place she wanted to be. She lingered on the seat, unable to move. Minnie hopped to the ground and pounded up the walkway, her empty lunch pail jingling.

She couldn’t delay the inevitable forever. Resolved, she curled one hand around the buggy’s frame, lifted her skirt hem with the other, and scooted to the end of the seat. Shane was around here somewhere, so she was bound to run into him soon. Completely dreading that, she slid off the seat. She misjudged the distance to the ground and she hit it too hard. Her book bag slipped off her shoulder and crashed on the walkway. Her lunch tin rolled to a stop near the flowerbed.

“Here, let me,” a deep baritone vibrated, a familiar voice, one she had once been so eager to hear. Shane knelt to retrieve her bag and scooped her pail by the metal handle. He strolled toward her looking like any horseman did, with a faint layer of dust on his muslin shirt and denims, his Stetson shading his face, a hint of stubble on his jaw.

It was a lie. She’d believed in him like a story in a book, something that was not real. She stared at his outstretched hands holding her things and remembered every time they had touched. He had made her believe.

Why did she still want the lie to be true? She could not stop wanting to see the goodness in the man when it was the lies that mattered more. She took a step back, her throat closing tight. She had fought all afternoon not to let Narcissa’s words bother her, but they rang through her mind with the force of a rushing river dammed for too long.
He’s having fun and sowing his wild oats. I hope you didn’t think his act of love was sincere.

“Meredith, don’t look at me like that. Please.” The quiet plea rang like a prayer, an honest request from his soul. He moved closer, bringing with him only pain. “Let me explain.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” Her hands fisted. She straightened her spine and stood her ground. If she gave in one inch, then the pain within her would crumble. The lunch hour they’d shared talking of little things, horses and her sewing and bits of stories about her friends seemed a lifetime ago, last night at her window two lifetimes.

“What does that mean?” His forehead furrowed. Agony touched his voice. “You don’t believe what that girl said, do you? There’s no going back for me. I don’t want that world. I have you now—”