Читать книгу The Texan's Inherited Family - Noelle Marchand - Страница 12
ОглавлениеQuinn paced in front of the schoolhouse steps waiting for Helen to return. He felt nervous and even a little light-headed. Of course, that might be from the haircut and shave he’d just had but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. He rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven jaw as he remembered the shocked look on Helen’s pretty face at his clumsy proposal. He’d done the best he could. That didn’t mean it would be good enough. It certainly didn’t mean she’d agree to marry him. Why hadn’t she just outright told him no and put him out of his misery?
He stopped pacing long enough to stare at the schoolhouse door then across the schoolyard to where his children were playing with the Rutledge boy. Reece’s eyes had been as wide as plates when he’d seen Quinn with his new haircut. Clara had turned downright shy. Olivia had started crying. Even now, Trent kept sending him suspicious looks. Helen couldn’t refuse him after he’d alienated his children just to please her. Besides, there wasn’t any other woman in town he’d have a chance with. Not that he personally had a chance with Helen, but the children did.
Please. Please. Please, he prayed again. I know I don’t deserve her, but she isn’t for me. She’s for them.
He jumped when the schoolhouse door opened. Helen was nowhere in sight as the members of the school board clomped down the steps. A grin flashed across Mr. Etheridge’s face and he reached out to pump Quinn’s hand up and down. “May I be the first to congratulate you? What a wonderful surprise!”
Quinn could only respond with a confused grunt.
Mr. Johansen winked. “She’s waiting for you inside.”
Nathan Rutledge clapped him on the back. “I wish you and Helen all the happiness in the world.”
“Me and Helen—” Quinn stopped breathing. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He stammered some sort of reply though what it was he’d never know. The men left him at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the schoolhouse door. Could it be possible? It certainly seemed likely. What else could they have meant?
He grabbed hold of the banister and took a tentative step up, then surged up the rest of the stairs into the schoolroom. Helen stood at the front of the room cleaning the day’s lessons from the blackboard. His noisy entrance caused her to turn and meet his gaze with a smile. Quinn swallowed, cleared his throat and jerked his thumb toward the door. “They said— I mean, they told me...congratulations. Does that mean that you’re saying yes? That you’re going to marry me?”
Her mahogany eyes sparkled. “I suppose it does.”
“You mean it? For real, now?” He strode forward until he stopped at the edge of the teacher’s platform. “You aren’t joking, are you?”
Her voice turned gentle as she met him there. “Quinn, I’d never joke about something like that.”
“You’re going to marry me.” It wasn’t a question this time. It was a statement even if his tone did hold a hint of disbelief. Trying those words on for size, he found that he liked the way they fit in a terrifying sort of way. He stepped back a little just in case a bolt of lightning struck him in holy retaliation for daring to marry a woman so far above him in every respect. He wouldn’t want it to hit Helen by mistake.
“Yes, I am.” She stepped down from the platform and lifted her face to stare up at him. “Well, isn’t there anything you’d like to say or do about it?”
His attention honed in on her lips which offered a smile far more tempting than anything she could have intended. He’d never kissed a woman before and today wasn’t the day to start him. He’d already pushed the Almighty far enough in asking for what he had no right to claim. Besides, she wasn’t for him. She was for the children. That’s what he’d promised God and he’d be smart to remember that if he wanted to have any chance of actually marrying her. Realizing he was leaning toward her, he pulled himself back. He took her hand to pump it up and down in a fair impression of what Mr. Etheridge had done earlier. “I’m real glad about it, Helen. Real glad.”
A hint of confusion marred her brow as she glanced down at their hands before she pulled hers free with a funny little frown. “Good. I have to finish out this week of school, but we can be married anytime after that.”
He watched her gather papers and books from her desk. “I reckon I’d better talk to the preacher about performing the ceremony.”
“And the judge. We’ll need to start the paperwork for the marriage license right away.”
He held back a groan. The marriage license. He’d completely forgotten about that part of the process. Anxiety rose in his gut. “Do we have to do that? I mean, wouldn’t it be all right if we just let the preacher hitch us up?”
She set the stack she’d gathered on her hip and cocked her head at him. “Not if you want it to be legal.”
“Of course, I do.” He ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair, hating that he’d made himself look foolish. “Guess I’ll talk to Judge Hendricks tomorrow then.”
“We can go together.”
“Great!” Even to his own ears, his reply was a little too enthusiastic to sound genuine. He couldn’t help it. With her along, he wouldn’t be able to ask for help with the reading and writing even if he had a mind to humble himself enough before the judge to do so. She’d be right there watching, expecting him to know something when he didn’t know much of anything.
“I’m sure it won’t be too laborious and, after all, it must be done.”
Looking into her intelligent eyes, he couldn’t help wondering if he was making a mistake. They had to be the most mismatched pair in town. However, they were a pair and they were going to stay that way as long as he could help it so he took the load from his intended’s hands and followed her outside. He stashed her things on the seat of the wagon he’d parked nearby. “I’ll drive you to the boardinghouse after we tell the children.”
“Oh, it isn’t far. There’s no need—” Her eyes widened. “You mean we’re going to tell them right now?”
“Sure we are. You don’t want them to hear it from someone else, do you?”
“No. I just...” She glanced over at the children, smoothing her hair as if she could make herself look more perfect than she already did in her cranberry colored gown.
Somehow her nervousness set him at ease—mostly because it meant he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. His shoulders relaxed, his breath came a bit easier and he felt more like himself than he had all afternoon. Catching her hand in his, he smiled. “I’m sure they’ll be as pleased as I am.”
She sighed when he tugged her forward. “I certainly hope so.”
He stopped at the fenced-in lawn that was shaded by a large oak tree. His nieces and nephews were the only ones left in the school yard, but they didn’t seem to mind a bit for they were completely involved in playing kick the can. Quinn waited, not wanting to interrupt as Reece held Trent back and Clara helped Olivia take a turn at kicking. A squeal erupted from Olivia once her little foot set the can spinning a short distance and Quinn couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “Good job, Olivia! Y’all come on over here now. Miss McKenna and I have something important to tell you.”
Helen stepped a bit closer to his side as the children approached. Trent arrived first, huffing and puffing from all his misplaced exertion. Clara came next with her sister in tow. Finally, Reece joined them with apprehension dogging each slow step. “I didn’t do it, Miss McKenna. Honest.”
Quinn glanced over at Helen for explanation. She shrugged in confusion before turning back to the children. “You didn’t do what, Reece?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve been trying hard to be good so if something’s messed up, it wasn’t me.”
Amusement warmed Helen’s voice. “Reece, you aren’t in trouble. Your uncle has an announcement to make, that’s all.”
Clara tilted her head, her wide blue eyes ripe with curiosity. “What kind of announcement?”
“Miss McKenna and I are going to be married.”
Clara gasped. Reece frowned. Trent’s brow furrowed. Olivia stuck her thumb in her mouth and leaned into her sister’s side. The three eldest exchanged glances then their expressions settled into varying degrees of confusion, fear and sadness. Their reaction stunned him. They must not have understood him correctly. Quinn tried again. This time he used more enthusiasm. “That means she is going to be your aunt! Isn’t that exciting?”
Reece crossed his arms. “Does that mean she won’t be our teacher anymore? I like having her as my teacher.”
Helen placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Oh, but being an aunt is so much better than being a teacher.”
Clara looked nothing if not doubtful. “Why?”
“Because, I am going to live with y’all so that I can love you, and laugh with you and help take care of you.” Helen caught Clara’s free hand. “Don’t you see? Having an aunt is kind of like having a Ma—just like having an uncle is kind of like having a Pa. I want to be that for you more than anything in the world.”
Longing filled the children’s eyes for an instant before Reece shook his head. “I still think you’d better stay our teacher.”
“Me, too. Besides, Uncle Quinn takes care of us really well. He doesn’t need help.” Clara looked to him for confirmation. “Isn’t that right, Uncle Quinn?”
“No, it isn’t right, Clara.” He frowned at them out of confusion and concern more than displeasure. “I don’t understand. I thought you would be pleased. You should be pleased. I am. I want what’s best for you and that’s Miss McKenna, which is why I’m going to marry her.”
Trent bowed his head as his shoulders shook in silent sobs. Before Quinn could blink, Helen was on her knees in the grass with his youngest nephew cradled in her arms. She looked up at Quinn with a myriad of emotions darkening the usual spark in her eyes. “Oh, Quinn, maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Yes, we should.” He sat in the grass beside her then gave a gentle tug to first Reece then Clara to compel them to do the same. His arm tightened around Olivia as she scrambled into his lap. He split his focus between Clara and Reece. “Do either of you know why Trent is crying?”
Clara scooted a little closer into their huddle. “He just a little upset seeing how y’all are going to die and all.”
“What?” he and Helen exclaimed together.
Reece pulled at a blade of grass beside his boot. “Getting married is what killed Pa and our new Ma.”
Clara nodded. “We don’t want that to happen to you and Miss McKenna, too.”
Nonplussed, he gladly let Helen handle that one. She hugged Trent tight. “Oh, darlings, nothing bad is going to happen to your uncle and me just because we are getting married. Tell them, Quinn.”
A single nod was all he could manage. He wasn’t worried about Helen. She would be fine. She didn’t know how far below her due in terms of status, intelligence and sophistication she was marrying. He wasn’t going to tell her, either. Not now. Not ever if he could help it. He wasn’t afraid of facing the consequences of his decision to reach for far more than he deserved—not since he knew how much it would benefit the children. If something did happen to him as a result, at least they would have her.
“What happened to your folks was an accident.” Helen wiped Trent’s tears away with a soft-looking handkerchief. His brown eyes watched her intently as she spoke. “We may not know the reasons why it happened. However, we do know getting married doesn’t mean you’re going to die immediately.”
Reece’s face was full of cautious hope. “How do we know that?”
“Look at all the married people still alive just in this town—not to mention the whole world. There’s nothing for y’all to worry about.” She placed a hand on Quinn’s knee as her eyes sent a silent encouragement for him to assure them. “Is there, Quinn?”
“Not a thing.” He made sure to look the children in the eye as he said it. All the while, he tried to ignore the warmth spreading from Helen’s hand into his knee.
“Your uncle and I are going to be perfectly fine. We’ll be better than fine, actually, because we’re all going to be a family...if you’ll have me.”
Reservations gone, Clara gave Helen a hug including Trent out of necessity. “Of course we will.”
Quinn cleared his throat. “What do you say, Reece? Are you going to make your aunt feel welcome?”
“Yes, sir!” Reece’s enthusiasm was reflected in his grin.
“Trent?”
The silent boy gave a grave nod.
“Good. Now, let’s drop off Miss McKenna at the boardinghouse and get ourselves on home.” He set Olivia on her feet so that she could toddle toward the wagon with the other children. “Helen, I sure am sorry about how they responded at first.”
“It ended well and that’s all that matters.”
“I reckon you’re right.” He stood and reached down to help Helen to her feet. He made sure to release her as soon as she was steady. He’d told the children that there was nothing for them to worry about. There wouldn’t be so long as he remembered that he was marrying Helen to be his children’s mother—not his wife. That would be a whole lot easier if he kept his distance.
* * *
Helen waved goodbye to the Tuckers. Quinn tipped his hat and sent her a quick grin before leaving her behind on the sidewalk in front of the boardinghouse. She barely resisted the impulse to break into a jig right then and there. Wonder of wonders! She was getting married! Not to just anyone, but to Quinn Tucker—a man with a ready-made family. It felt as if she had wandered into her favorite daydream. She could only hope to be lost in it forever.
“Who was that?”
Helen yelped at the sound of Isabelle Bradley’s voice. She’d been staring after the Tuckers’ wagon so fixedly that she hadn’t heard her friend’s approach. “Where did you come from?”
“The post office.” Isabelle’s narrowed green eyes didn’t waver from the retreating wagon. “Was that Quinn Tucker? I heard he got a haircut, but goodness me who knew it would make such a difference. He actually had a face under all that wild hair and a handsome one at that! It was nice of him to drive you home. Violet told me about the school-board meeting. What happened?”
Helen leaned against the cold rod iron of the Bradley’s waist-high fence to push it open for her friend. “The other members of the board made Mr. Etheridge apologize.”
“Good for them.” Isabelle trotted up the porch steps and opened the door for Helen. “So does that mean you no longer have to worry about keeping your position?”
“Yes and no. I resigned.” She had time to place her schoolbooks on the front desk and her coat on the rack before Isabelle’s shock wore off.
“Why,” Isabelle began, extending that one word into several syllables, “did you do that?”
Helen shrugged. “You have to resign if you’re going to get married.”
Isabelle’s mouth dropped open then curved in an incredulous smile. “You’re getting married? To whom? When? Why do I never know about these things? Helen!”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m getting married. On Saturday, I think. You’re the first to know besides the school board and his children.”
“His children?” Isabelle’s eyes widened and flashed in the direction Quinn’s wagon had gone. “Quinn Tucker’s children?”
She nodded. “All four of them.”
“But, I didn’t even know the two of you were courting.”
“Well...” She leaned against the front desk, straightening the stack of books she’d brought home. “We didn’t court...exactly.”
Isabelle sat on the stool behind the desk. “What does that mean?”
Helen rolled her eyes. “It means we didn’t court at all, but it doesn’t matter. There will be plenty of time for that after we marry.”
“Well, then.” Isabelle lifted a brow. “Would it be safe to guess that this isn’t a love match?”
She shrugged. “It is in a way. I love his children.”
“But you don’t love him.”
“I could. I will...one day. I’m certain of it. He’s kind, Christian, hardworking—”
“—suddenly handsome—”
Helen laughed. “I was attracted to him even before the haircut and shave. Besides, he makes me feel...”
“He makes you feel...?”
Whole. He makes me forget that I’m a little bit damaged. She smiled and settled for, “Pretty.”
“You are pretty.”
“Thank you. Besides, what is love, anyway? It isn’t just a feeling. It’s a commitment. It’s endeavoring to understand and appreciate someone for who they are. Even if it was just a feeling, feelings are controllable.” She shrugged at Isabelle’s doubtful look. “Perhaps I come at it from a different perspective than most. You see, my parents had an arranged marriage and they love each other very deeply now. I don’t see why I should expect anything less.”
“What can I say to that? As long as you’re sure, Helen. I’ll support you.”
“I’m sure, and I’d like you to be my maid-of-honor.”
“I’d love that.”
Suddenly realizing that retrieving and sorting the mail was normally Amy’s job, Helen froze. “Oh, Isabelle, Violet told me about Amy. Have y’all had any more word from her?”
Isabelle shook her head. “Nothing as yet. Father has gone to search for them mostly to assure himself and Mother that Amy’s new situation is suitable—whatever that means. Mother seems hurt that one of her daughters would do such a thing—hide a relationship and then run off like that. Violet is all aflutter thinking she’s in an Austen novel or some such nonsense.”
“I never should have lent her my copy of Pride and Prejudice. All through dinner she explained to me the parallels between this situation and Lydia’s with Wickham. I believe Violet has convinced herself she’s Kitty.” She laughed at her friend’s grimace then regarded Isabelle seriously. “And how are you dealing with all of this?”
“To be honest, I’m more than a little annoyed with Amy, as much as I love her.” Isabelle sighed. “Amy’s elopement isn’t a problem for Amy. It’s a problem for me. My parents are determined not to make the same mistake twice, so I’ll be the one facing more restrictions and tougher discipline. In the meantime, I’m trying not to be offended by mother’s suspicious looks.”
“You really had no idea?”
“Amy didn’t confide in me on this one at all.” Isabelle shrugged. “What’s done is done. It’s a good reminder that each decision we make not only effects ourselves but may have unintended consequences in other’s lives. I suppose we just have to pray about our options, follow God’s leading and be ready to live with the consequences of our choices whether good or bad.”
“You have a good head on your shoulders, Isabelle. I’m sure your parents will recognize that once the excitement dies down.”
“I hope so.” Isabelle frowned as she went back to sorting the mail.
“I guess I’ll see you at supper.” Helen hurried from the foyer down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her, but couldn’t shut out the wisdom of Isabelle’s words.
Pray about our options...follow God’s leading...be ready to live with the consequences. She hadn’t prayed about the decision to marry Quinn. How could she have with everything happening so quickly? That didn’t mean she wasn’t following God’s leading. After all, how many times had she prayed for a husband and children of her own? Well, not that many because she hadn’t thought it possible. However, this was a blessing—an undeniable, pure, simple blessing. She’d be a fool not to run full speed toward it and Helen McKenna-soon-to-be-Tucker was no fool. She’d be more than happy to live with the consequences of her decision. They could only be good ones even if she didn’t know her husband very well yet. Or, have much experience running a home. She’d been a teacher for almost half of a semester. How much harder could it be to be a wife and mother?
