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Authors: Bice Prudence

The Widower's Wife (26 page)

BOOK: The Widower's Wife
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“I thought I could live with another woman, keeping my wall of memories built safely around me and still be able to be there for my family.” Dalton sat upright. He looked at her once more and after laying the single flower on the log next to him, he placed his hand gently on the side of her face. His touch took her breath away and her heart raced. He continued softly, “What I didn’t count on, was you, Jillian.”

Dalton took his hand away and drew another flower from the bouquet. He held it to his nose, inhaling deeply. The flower was a soft purple with long slender blooms. “Both are so different,” he mused, “but each is so beautiful in its own unique way.”

He continued, “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t you.” He chuckled to himself, a little self-consciously, and then became serious again. “When I first saw you at the station, I felt myself drawn to you immediately, even before I knew it was you I was looking for. Every emotion I thought I’d experienced with Laurellyn suddenly came alive, along with some I never even knew I possessed. And I fought it. I fought it with everything I had.” He set the bouquet down and with his free hand began to gently caress the lavender petals of the single delicate bloom he held.

Jillian gently placed her hand on his arm. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Could he possibly love her as much as she loved him? Her eyes became moist as the tears found their way to the surface.

“I can’t fight it anymore, Jillian. When I look at you, everything you are draws me to you, no matter how hard I try to pull away.” He turned toward her. “I know you had your reasons for coming here the way you did. For a long time, I wondered what terrible thing had happened to you that turned your precious heart away from love. Marcus told me what happened, and it explained everything.” She was taken aback, but not angry. Dalton continued in a rush, “Don’t be upset with your brother—I asked him to tell me. He would not have betrayed your confidence had he not been worried about your happiness.” By now, continuous tears were falling from her eyes.

“I’m not angry,” she replied quickly to relieve his worrying.

“I know it might take you more time to get over what that man did to you, but I am willing to wait.” He reached up, wiping the tears from her cheeks, and then letting his thumb brush across her lips.

Jillian’s heart soared as she grasped his meaning. “I don’t need any more time, Dalton. I realized long ago that I never loved Nathan. I am long past any feelings for him, except contempt.” She saw the look of hope that leapt into his eyes and placed her hand tenderly into his. “There is only one man I have ever truly loved.”

Dalton circled his arms about her waist. Immediately, her arms were around his neck, and when their lips met, she could taste the salt from her tears. It wasn’t bitter though, for they weren’t tears of pain but tears of joy. When their kiss finally ended, she rested her head against his chest.

“I love you, Dalton McCullough. I think I was always meant to love you.”

“I love you, too, Jillian McCullough.” His arms tightened around her and she felt safe, secure, and most of all, loved.

 

Marcus Grey unfolded the note in his hand. He had only returned moments before from delivering Miss Bethany Johansen safely home from their holiday. He had spoken privately with her father, and he smiled to himself as he thought of the answer he had received. He leisurely made his way home, knowing his parents wouldn’t be there to greet him or hear his good news. They were away on a holiday themselves.

The instant he walked in the door, Thomas, their butler, handed him a note along with a quick description of the woman who had written it. Marcus wondered who the woman had been and what business she might possibly have with him. He glanced at the signature at the bottom of the message. He was not familiar with a Miss Lorelei Davis.

The note was brief, but the meaning was clear. Marcus felt fear and anger rise within him simultaneously as he read the words hastily scrawled upon the paper.

Dear Sir,

Though you are not familiar with me, we do have a common acquaintance, one whom I fear is a great danger to your family, especially your sister, Miss Jillian Grey. I witnessed certain threats made by Mr. Nathan Shaw. I fear he is not right in his head, and I know for certain he has already left on the train to Darlington, Wisconsin. Although I may be partly responsible for his poor state of mind, I do not wish for any harm that may come to your sister to be upon my conscience. I regret that you were not home when I came to deliver this message, because of its urgent nature. I myself do not wish to be around when Mr. Shaw returns, so I am leaving forthwith. I only pray you receive this message in time to save her from danger, as Mr. Shaw is most determined to yet make her his.

Regards,

Miss Lorelei Davis

 

Marcus quickly folded the message, hurried to the writing desk, and began writing a note.

“Thomas, come quickly!” When the butler arrived at his side, Marcus ordered, “Hurry to the stables and have Stephens saddle my horse immediately. I must ride into town and send this telegram at once.”

In less than ten minutes, with the penned note in his pocket, Marcus mounted his horse and galloped through the gates of Grey Manor.

Twenty
 

Nathan found it easy enough to discover where Jillian lived. The people in the small town of Willow Springs seemed anxious to find out more about the new addition to their community, especially Mrs. Mavis Bingham, a pushy and arrogant woman who had riddled him with questions as soon as he had inquired about his long-time friend.

Nathan purposely misled the town busybody about his relationship with Mrs. McCullough. In return for her new arsenal of delicious gossip, Mrs. Bingham provided him with detailed directions to the McCullough’s farm. The next morning, Nathan rode out to the farm and sat watching the house.

The man he presumed to be Dalton McCullough came out of the house and worked on getting his horse hitched up to his wagon. Nathan observed him as he worked. He couldn’t quite see the man’s face because he had his back turned, but he looked well built and strong. A spark of jealously ignited within Nathan. When he first heard the rumors about Jillian’s marriage, he assumed the worst of a man who looked for a wife via advertisements in a newspaper. He never once thought he might have some actual competition. The man whistled while he worked. Evidently, Jillian made him happy. The thought fueled Nathan’s jealousy even more.

A little girl, about four or five years old, came running out of the house a little later, carrying a pup. She set it down, and it began barking and running around, trying to get her to play with it. Nathan realized the dog might be a problem. He was thinking about how he could handle it when he saw McCullough, finished hitching the wagon, pick up the girl and head back inside the house.

Just then, Nathan thought about the man waiting for him at the saloon back in Willow Springs. He was glad that he had brought him down from Darlington with him. He’d figured he might need a little help, and he’d been right. Mr. Charles Fitzgerald, “Chuckles,” as he kept insisting he be called, had lost big to him in a card game his first night in town. Nathan had been lucky that night. He liked the gambling establishments out here. He had been a little fish in a big pond back in Boston, but here the tables were turned. Chuckles had taken his bluff, bet big, and in the end, he owed Nathan more money than he had claim to. That’s when Nathan had given him an alternative way to pay off his debt. Chuckles actually seemed eager to help when Nathan mentioned the names of those he was looking for. That had led to a most interesting conversation. The fat, pudgy, old thing wouldn’t be much good in a fight, but Nathan could think of a few other ways he could be of some use.

The door to the house finally burst open, and two girls hopped down the porch steps and clambered into the back of the wagon: the child who had come out before and an older one. Next, McCullough came out, carrying a small boy of eighteen months. He walked over to the wagon and then looked back at the house expectantly. Nathan’s gaze had gone to the door as well.

When Jillian walked through the door, Nathan’s pulse quickened. He’d almost forgotten how extraordinarily beautiful she was. Her strawberry curls were pulled back into a braid, and some loose strands hung softly about her face. She carried a picnic basket in her arms. She looked at McCullough and smiled. Nathan clenched his fist as Jillian walked over to him, setting the basket down at her feet. Taking the hand he held out to her, she smiled again as he helped her up into the wagon, saying something to her as he did so. He handed the boy up to her. She laughed and cradled the wiggly boy, kissing the top of his head, while McCullough picked up the basket, untied the wagon, placed the basket next to the girls, and climbed up to sit next to Jillian. The wagon pulled out and headed away from Willow Springs.

Jillian looked happy, but Nathan knew she really couldn’t be. S
he’s only known this man for a few months
, he reasoned. She and Nathan had grown up together. He had made her smile and laugh more times than he could count. He closed his eyes and pictured her at the Spring Ball Extravaganza—how beautiful she was, the way she had looked at him. He remembered how her body had felt in his arms as they danced. She loved him. He knew it. He had foolishly hurt her, but she would forgive him. She was just confused. When he explained that the other woman meant nothing to him, she would want him back.

Nathan thought of how she had held the baby boy in her arms and kissed the top of his head. She seemed to be taken with that man’s boy and it wasn’t even hers. She had always loved children; she’d even talked about them when they had been engaged. Nathan hadn’t really wanted any, at least not right away, but if she wanted a child that badly, he would let her have one. He was getting anxious to talk to her. He needed to get her alone so they could make their plans.

A little while later, Nathan heard the wagon coming back up the road. They had obviously dropped the children off somewhere because they were no longer with them. Nathan crouched down lower in the brush so he wouldn’t be seen. As they rode past his hiding spot, he got a better look at Jillian. She was looking at the man, and Nathan didn’t like the look he saw in her eyes. His breathing became harsh as he felt his anger surge. He needed to talk to her soon, that much was certain. Jillian was his, and they belonged together. Soon they could leave here and start their life together.

McCullough didn’t turn the wagon into his gate, but instead headed toward Willow Springs. They were obviously heading out somewhere together. Despite his urge to follow them, Nathan made his way back to the tree a little way off the road and retrieved the rented horse he had tied up. Looking back down the road where he last saw the wagon, Nathan made his way back to town to make his plans with Chuckles.

 

Later that same afternoon, Nathan stood in front of the house again, waiting. He could hear the muffled whimpers of the pup at his feet. It was tied up in the old flour sack he had found in the barn. Nathan figured Jillian would return soon, so all he had to do was stay hidden until she did. The plan was to wait until she was alone, maybe while Dalton was seeing to his evening chores, and snatch her then. Chuckles was holed up out of the way with their horses right now, but when it got darker, he was supposed to come closer to keep watch and back Nathan up. At any sign of trouble, he was to send one gunshot into the air. Nathan reached down, picked up the noisy, squirming bundle, and headed out toward the fields behind the barn.

 

Jillian snuggled up and rested her head on Dalton’s shoulder as they headed back home to pick up the children. At some point during the day her hair had escaped its braid and she had not bothered to redo it. Dalton seemed to like it down, and all she wanted to do was make him happy.

The day had been a dream, more than she had ever hoped for. After their confessions of love, the day seemed to fly by. She unconsciously brought her hand to her lips, remembering the kisses they’d shared.

They talked about everything: their childhoods, their education, and their families. They had laughed at each other’s mishaps and adventures, and she had cried when he spoke of losing his mother and father. They had even talked of Laurellyn some. Jillian felt close to her in her own way and wanted to know more about her. Her love for Dalton and the children had somehow strengthened that connection. Finally, they had spoken of their hopes and dreams for their future and made plans together. Today was a day to celebrate.

A thought suddenly struck her, and she excitedly turned to Dalton. “Dalton!” He jumped slightly, and she figured he must have been as deep in thought as she had been moments before. “I’m sorry. Did I startle you?” she asked. She didn’t give him time to answer before continuing. “Would you do something for me?” Dalton pulled back on the reins, brought the horse to a stop, and turned toward her.

“I would do anything for you,” he answered with a wink. She looked up into his handsome face and smiled before speaking further. How she got so lucky, she didn’t know.

“Well, I was wondering, since it’s on the way, if you would drop me off at home first before going to pick up the children.” She smiled at the plans she was making in her head. “That way I could get a head start on supper and maybe do something extra.”

“Well, that depends, I suppose,” he said teasingly.

“On what?” She raised an eyebrow up at him.

“On whether that something extra might just be something extra sweet. You are the best cook this side of the Mississippi.” Jillian blushed at his compliment.

“Why, Dalton McCullough, are you trying to flatter me?” She looked up and fluttered her eyelashes at him, causing him to laugh heartily. He bent down and kissed her soundly before starting on their way once more.

BOOK: The Widower's Wife
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