An Unexpected Groom Page 4

  “What happened?” she said. “Surely she didn’t refuse to stay.”

  “She didn’t refuse, but she didn’t say yes either. She wants to think it through overnight. She’s with the Joneses. She seemed...” he cast about for the right word, “flustered.”

  “I can’t imagine she’ll flat out refuse to give you two weeks, not with this face.” She reached out to pat his cheek and he gave her a small smile.

  “I hoped she’d stay for supper, but I think she just wanted to get away from me.”

  “I’m certain she was just surprised, that’s all, and she must be tired from her trip. You mustn’t give up hope. The Lord has it in hand.”

  He nodded, but he wasn’t sure the Lord would have approved of him not telling Louisa he couldn’t walk. Jesse hadn’t actually asked Him.

  Mrs Goodwin’s face lit up. “But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t give her a little gentle persuasion.”

  “That’s what I was hoping to do, but she’s there and I’m here. She didn’t want to stay.”

  She grinned and patted the serving dish. “But now you have the perfect excuse to go back over there. You could say I brought it for the two of you and it would be too much for just you. Irene will invite you to stay to eat and that’ll give you another chance to work your charm.”

  Jesse looked at the dish. “Mrs G, I think you’re even sneakier than I am.”

  Her laughter filled the small room. “Never underestimate a woman’s desire for a romantic, happy ending.” She rose from her chair and squeezed his shoulder. “I know you can do this, Jesse. Mark my words, once Miss Wood gets to know you, she’ll be begging to stay.”

  “Thanks, Mrs G.”

  A smile spread over his face as he watched her leave. He’d known Mrs Goodwin his whole life and she’d always made him feel like she was on his side. And unlike many of the people he knew, she didn’t treat him like he was different. She’d even taught him a few of her recipes, a favour granted to only a few.

  His gaze moved to the serving dish. The delicious aroma drifting from beneath the checked cloth covering made his mouth water. Mrs Goodwin was right, it presented the perfect opportunity to spend more time with Louisa before she made her decision.

  His smile widening, he reached for the dish.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Can I bring you anything, Louisa? Do you need any more help?” Mrs Jones’ gaze swept over the mound of trunks piled into the corner of the small room.

  Louisa stifled a sigh and shook her head. “No, thank you. You and Pastor Jones have already been so good to me. I know I have far too many of these.”

  Mrs Jones laughed. “Nonsense, it’s daunting to begin a new life. It’s understandable you’d want to bring everything with you. And I’m sure, if you decide to stay, that Jesse won’t mind at all.”

  Louisa caught herself about to bite her lower lip and instead gave Mrs Jones a small smile.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Mrs Jones said, moving to the door. “There’s no hurry. Just come on out whenever you’re ready.”

  Louisa closed the door after her and slumped onto the bed. They’d had to move it from where it had jutted into the centre of the room to against one wall to fit everything in. Mr Johnson had brought all the trunks inside, but he’d been gone by the time Jesse brought her to her temporary home and Pastor and Mrs Jones had helped her pile the trunks so she could at least move around in the small space.

  She’d felt awful the entire time they worked. Her mother’s idea had made sense back in New York, but now she was here it was beginning to seem a bit ridiculous. No one here cared how many trunks she had. She had far more than any of the other women who arrived with her. Amy didn’t even have one, somehow fitting everything into a single carpet bag. It seemed that out here in the west appearances weren’t necessarily everything.

  It was a new idea for Louisa and, as she considered it, a little liberating. She felt guilty just thinking about it, but maybe every tiny detail didn’t have to be perfect. Maybe every person didn’t have to be perfect.

  She stood and walked over to open one of the three trunks she’d made sure were set where she could easily reach them. Her assertion that they contained the belongings she’d need the most was true, at least.

  Her thoughts went to Jesse as she worked to unpack her few items of clothing. Not that they had strayed far from him since he’d left. She felt terrible about how she’d almost run away from him. She hoped he didn’t think it was because of his condition. She wouldn’t want him to think he repulsed her in any way. The exact opposite was true, if she was honest with herself. Goodness, but his eyes were incredible. She’d never seen anything like them.

  Her hands stilled in the process of lifting her favourite blue skirt from the trunk and she gazed, unseeing, at the sky beyond her window. Green with gold flecks that seemed to glow when he laughed. Of course, that wasn’t possible. Eyes didn’t glow, even the gold parts. But she could swear Jesse’s sparkled. And his voice... ohhh, his voice. It seemed to curl around her chest like a cloud, warming her insides and causing her heart to flutter in the most disturbingly pleasant fashion. And his hair, the most beautiful shade of caramel, longer than was fashionable in the east but oh so attractive on him...

  A burst of birdsong from outside startled her from her reverie and she blinked, shaking her head. This was precisely why she’d left, even when she’d wanted to stay. She couldn’t think straight around him.

  What was wrong with her? She’d only just met the man. Yes, he was handsome, astoundingly so, but she hadn’t been raised to swoon over every attractive man who looked in her direction. Unless it was on purpose, of course, to gain attention.

  No, she had to consider the situation in which she found herself in a calm and rational manner. What would her parents have her do if they were here? She sighed and hung the skirt on a hook inside the small wardrobe. That was just the problem. In all the ways she’d been taught to attract the right man with the right social standing, it had never once come up that he might not be able to walk. She’d never even seen a young person in a wheelchair before, at least not someone who hadn’t been injured in some way. Of course, she’d heard of places where people like Jesse were sent when they were children, to be looked after. For their own good. Institutions where their physical needs could be taken care of.

  Although Jesse didn’t seem at all like he needed taking care of.

  She shook out her midnight blue evening gown, frowning at the creases. A week squashed in a trunk had not been kind to her clothing. She’d have to ask Mrs Jones for the use of her iron later.

  Would a disability like Jesse’s hinder his social and career advancement? She guessed that in all likelihood it would. And if her husband didn’t advance, she wouldn’t advance. This wasn’t at all what was meant to happen. At this moment she was supposed to be spending her first evening with her new husband, an accountant for a bank in an up and coming town in the west with all the opportunities she didn’t have back in New York. She wasn’t supposed to be unmarried in a tiny, backwoods town whose only redeeming feature was the railroad ran through it.

  All right, perhaps she was being a little harsh. It seemed like a nice enough place. But everything was still wrong. She should just go home on the next train.

  Yes, that’s what she would do. Jesse would be disappointed, but it would be better for him in the end to not have her string him along for two weeks and then be let down when she left anyway. It was what her parents would have her do. It was what she would do.

  She nodded her head to seal her decision and began folding her dress again. She wouldn’t be needing it now. No need to iron her clothing since she’d be leaving soon.

  A knock sounded on the front door along the hall from her bedroom and she listened to Mrs Jones answer it, the sounds muffled through the door.

  And then she heard a voice which immediately cast doubt on her perfectly reasonable plan to leave as soon as possible. She dro
pped the dress into the trunk and hurried to the door, pressing her ear against the wooden surface.

  “Of course you have to stay, Jesse,” Mrs Jones said. “You’ve come all this way and there’s plenty here for all of us and I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of Mrs Goodwin’s cooking.”

  “Well, if you insist,” Jesse replied, a smile in his voice.

  Louisa turned around and slumped against the door.

  He was here. Jesse and his smooth voice and his devastating smile and his sparkling green eyes and his caramel-coloured hair and his... everything.

  It was a disaster.

  She almost jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded on the door at her back. Rapidly smoothing her hair, she took a breath to calm herself and opened the door.

  Mrs Jones stood outside in the hallway. “Jesse came to deliver food that Harriet Goodwin prepared for the two of you so I asked him to stay. I just wanted to let you know we can eat whenever you’re ready.”

  Louisa put on her best practised smile. “That sounds lovely. Harriet Goodwin?”

  “She’s a member of the church and something of a local legend. I admit, you’ll spend the rest of your time here disappointed in my cooking after tasting hers.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” Prepared for the two of you. There was a two of them. People already thought she and Jesse were a two.

  “You’ll understand once you’ve eaten.” Mrs Jones stepped back. “Just come on through when you’re ready.”

  Louisa closed the door as she walked away and released the forced smile which was making her face ache. She wandered to the bed and sat with a heavy sigh, raising her eyes to the ceiling. Outside of church she wasn’t one for praying much, but since her parents weren’t there to guide her she didn’t see any other option.

  “Dear Lord God,” she whispered, “thank You for bringing me here safely.” She remembered hearing a sermon once where the preacher said one should begin a prayer with thanks and she cast about for something else to be grateful for. “And thank You that Pastor and Mrs Jones are such nice people and didn’t complain once about the trunks.” That should be enough. “I suppose You know about Jesse. I’m sure You love him and You want him to be happy, but I just don’t think it could be with me. Mother and Father want me to marry a man who has the right social standing and potential for advancement and...” A verse from the Bible came to her and she sat up straighter. This was surely proof of her rightness. “And You told us to honour our fathers and mothers so that means I have to do as they say, doesn’t it? So if You could just make Jesse not like me and me not like him, I would be very grateful. And help me to meet a real gentleman somehow. Not that Jesse isn’t a gentlemen but, well, I’m sure You know what I mean. Thank You. Amen.”

  The prayer made her feel somewhat better. Surely God would keep her thinking clearly and enable her to stay strong. Going right back home was obviously the right thing to do. She was glad she’d thought of the honouring her parents verse. That could only be extra proof she was right.

  Nodding, she stood and went to the washstand by the window to wash her face.

  Supper with Jesse wouldn’t be a problem. She was a determined woman and God was on her side.

  It would all be perfectly all right.

  She looked down at the travel dress she was still wearing.

  But first she needed to change.

  ~

  When Louisa reached the parlour door, Jesse was facing the window that looked out onto the garden behind the house, his back to her.

  There was a slight wave to his hair that made the ends of the layers cut into it crisscross over each other, creating a sense of texture and movement even though he was still. What would it feel like to feel those soft strands sliding through her fingers?

  Startled by the thought, she pulled her eyes away. She would have slapped herself, if she could. It hadn’t taken even five seconds in Jesse’s presence for her brain to start scrambling again. She briefly considered joining Pastor and Mrs Jones in the kitchen, but that would be rude. And it wasn’t like she could avoid Jesse for the entire meal.

  With nothing else for it, she lifted her chin and walked into the room.

  He looked round and saw her, giving her a smile that momentarily sucked all the breath from her lungs. Then he spoke and it all went downhill from there.

  “I hope you don’t mind seeing me again so soon,” he said, turning his wheelchair from the window. “I didn’t want you to miss out on Mrs Goodwin’s beef stew.”

  She took a seat in an armchair and tried to ignore the way the sun shining in through the glass created golden highlights in his hair. “Mrs Jones said she’s a good cook.”

  He wheeled over to her, stopping close enough that she could lean forward and touch him if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. In the slightest.

  “Calling Mrs Goodwin a good cook is like calling the Rocky Mountains a few hills. She taught me some of her recipes, but I still can’t get mine to come out as well as hers. You’ll understand when you taste it. She’s a genius.”

  “You can cook?” She immediately regretted revealing her surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be able to cook because of your...” She waved at his legs then regretted doing that too. “I just meant that it’s surprising you can cook, because you’re a...” What on earth was she saying?

  His lips twitched as if he was fighting a smile. “A what?”

  “A man,” she finished lamely. She’d been in the room with him for barely a minute and already her poise was unravelling.

  His smile won through. “I figured if I was going to live on my own it would be nice if I could eat.”

  “Most men seem to wait until they have a wife to cook for them.” Her eyes widened in horror. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.” Was it too late to run back to her room and pretend to be ill? Her mother would be so disappointed.

  “Most men haven’t spent their lives having to prove to everyone they meet that they aren’t helpless.” His voice held no bitterness, it was simply a statement of fact.

  Louisa suddenly felt very, very ashamed. “I don’t think you’re helpless.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile that created a perfect dimple in his left cheek. “Glad to hear it.”

  Mrs Jones appeared at the door. “Supper is just about ready, if you’d like to come on through.”

  Louisa snapped her eyes from Jesse’s dimple. Had she been staring?

  “Thanks, Mrs Jones,” he said. He smiled at Louisa and indicated the door. “After you.”

  They settled with Pastor and Mrs Jones at the table in the kitchen. It seemed to be the only table in the house. At home, guests who weren’t either family or close friends would never have been entertained in the kitchen. Not that the house she grew up in was any larger than the Jones’ home, but they did have a separate dining room which was used for breakfast and dinner. Louisa’s mother insisted they always did things properly. They may not have been wealthy or lived in the best part of the city, but she was determined they would behave as if they did.

  But as Louisa sat in the homely kitchen, surrounded by the delicious aroma of food and the smiling faces of Pastor and Mrs Jones and Jesse, she couldn’t help thinking how pleasant it was to let go of the formality, just a bit.

  If Jesse hadn’t been right beside her, close enough that his elbow brushed hers as he wheeled himself into position at the table, she might even have relaxed.

  “Well,” Pastor Jones said, taking the seat opposite Louisa, “since Mrs Goodwin’s beef stew is calling, let’s not keep it waiting.” He took his wife’s hand. “Jesse, since you so kindly brought the food, would you say the blessing?”

  Mrs Jones reached for Jesse’s hand and Pastor Jones held his out to Louisa. It took her a moment to realise they were forming a circle. Taking the pastor’s hand, she only realised the ramifications when Jesse held his left hand, palm up, above the table.

  Bracing herself, Louisa slippe
d her hand into his.

  Jesse’s touch was warm and soft and, frustratingly, sent little tingles through her skin. And although she wasn’t a small woman, standing at a statuesque, as her mother called it, five feet and nine inches, his large hand easily engulfed hers. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thudding in her chest.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on his words rather than the way the sound of his voice flowed over her like a silky, sea breeze.

  “Father,” he said, “I thank You for Pastor and Mrs Jones’ kindness in opening their home to me and Louisa. Thank You for Mrs Goodwin’s generosity and delicious beef stew. And most of all, thank You for bringing Louisa here, for keeping her safe on the journey, and for her willingness to come all this way for me. I’m feeling truly blessed tonight. In Your Name, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him. How could he still be grateful for her after she’d almost run away from him? But the small smile he gave her seemed perfectly genuine. She even found herself smiling back. And missing his touch when he released her hand.

  “That was lovely, Jesse,” Mrs Jones said. “Thank you. And we’re very happy to have Louisa here. Now, let’s not keep Harriet’s stew waiting.”

  It was, quite simply, the most delicious thing Louisa had ever eaten. Her own cooking skills, which up to now she had thought reasonably good, suddenly seemed utterly inadequate.

  “How does Mrs Goodwin do it?” she said as she laid her knife and fork onto her empty plate.

  “No one knows,” Jesse said. “Even the dishes she’s taught me to cook haven’t come out anywhere near as good as hers. She just does... something. With the exact same ingredients.”

  “She is truly blessed with a God-given talent,” Pastor Jones said, leaning back in his chair and patting his rounded stomach with a grin. “No doubt about that. And even better, she’s generous with it.”

  Mrs Jones stood and began gathering the plates. “As a wife I might be moved to envy, but I can admit when I’m outclassed.”