Читать книгу The Bride’s Matchmaking Triplets - Regina Scott - Страница 13

Chapter Three

She must have looked as angry as she felt, for Brandon recoiled from her. So did the triplets. Jasper’s face puckered. Eli curled next to him. Theo stuck his thumb in his mouth, a tear rolling down one chubby cheek.

Brandon reached out and scooped him onto his lap. “Easy there, Theo. Elizabeth isn’t angry with you. She couldn’t be. She thinks you’re going to grow into a fine man. I’m the one she doesn’t like. She said she couldn’t marry a country parson.”

Elizabeth stared at him. His eyes looked as sad as Theo’s.

“I never said I didn’t want to marry you,” she protested. “And I certainly never called you a country parson. You were going to serve at St. Matthew’s, a fine respectable position.”

Theo leaned against him as if ready to defend him. Brandon patted his shoulder. “You knew I wanted to go to Texas with Bo. And Texas wasn’t good enough for you.”

She spread her hands. “Look at me, Brandon. Here I am, in Texas!”

Her voice was rising again. Jasper let out a squawk as if determined to be louder. Eli’s gaze darted between her and Brandon. Theo plastered himself against Brandon’s chest. Even the bushes at the edge of the lawn rustled as if in agitation.

She forced herself to calm, to speak quietly and evenly. “I don’t understand why you have that impression of me. I never said money and position were important.”

He raised a brow. “That’s not how John Hood’s sister explained it.”

Poor Florence, to be caught in the middle of such a difficult situation. She’d been as caring as her brother, who had been in Brandon’s class at the divinity school.

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her,” Elizabeth said. “When my uncle was arrested, everything changed. I was so caught up in caring for Aunt Evangeline that I couldn’t do more than survive each day. Some of Aunt Evangeline’s more colorful acquaintances stuck by our side, but Florence was the only person who came by regularly.”

He nodded. “She was the one who brought me the news about your uncle’s arrest and your aunt’s stroke. I was surprised you didn’t come yourself.”

There was more pain than censure in his voice. Just thinking about that dark time made an ache rise inside her. She reached for Eli and pulled him onto her lap. The baby rested his head against her, a comforting bundle.

“I couldn’t leave Aunt’s side, so I asked Florence to help me reach you. I thought you would want to know what was happening, that you’d want to help. But Florence said you couldn’t risk being seen with me.”

He frowned. “Why would there have been any risk to me by being seen in your company? You weren’t the criminal. Your uncle was.”

She could not have misunderstood Florence. Her friend had been quite clear on the message. Her face had been anguished, dark curls trembling, and she’d barely been able to force the words from her lips.

“You were hoping for an appointment at a prestigious church, Brandon,” Elizabeth reminded him. “Having a wife associated with scandal might have hindered that.”

“I never considered that,” he insisted. “I wanted to go to you, help you any way I could, but Florence said you refused to see me. Because of the funds needed to pay for your aunt’s care, you had no choice but to marry a better connected, wealthier man. It sounded as if you had him all picked out. With your aunt’s parties, you had plenty of candidates to choose from, each more eligible than me.”

What was he talking about? Hadn’t he realized she had looked at no one else once she’d seen him? “I didn’t have another groom in mind. Florence knew that.”

He cocked his head. “I thought you needed money to pay for your aunt’s care.”

“I did. That’s why I became a governess. All my income went to fund nurses.”

Now all three babies were watching her, and Eli’s and Theo’s lips were trembling as if in sympathy. Jasper looked more as if he wanted to fight her battles instead, little hands fisted.

Brandon straightened, rubbing his free hand along his pant leg. “I don’t understand. You needed me. I wanted to help. What went wrong?”

What indeed? It was easy for him to claim all innocence now. Yet she could not convince herself he would lie to her face. No member of his congregation was present. The triplets weren’t likely to remember this conversation by the time they could speak enough to tell anyone about it. And no one in Little Horn would believe her over their beloved pastor. Why posture?

Elizabeth made herself shrug, then snuggled Eli closer. “It seems to have been very easy for us to believe the worst of each other. I’d say our attachment was never meant to be.”

He frowned as if unwilling to believe that. How could he deny it? Back then, she’d been unsure of herself, awed by everyone she had met at her aunt’s table. Why would the marvelous Brandon Stillwater find her worthy to be his wife?

But she was no longer that wide-eyed girl with dreams bigger than her capabilities. Now she knew just what she was made of, had been tested and survived. Now she knew what she needed.

A steady position or a steady husband. Brandon Stillwater would be willing to offer neither.

* * *

Once again she was calm, composed, the baby cradled in her arms, but this time Brandon thought Eli was more of a shield to keep him at a distance. Jasper, leaning on her legs, made another attempt to crawl over them for the freedom beyond, and Brandon grabbed the baby’s foot and pulled him into the scope of his arms. All the while he tried to orient himself to a world that had shifted.

Our attachment was never meant to be.

Though he’d thought he’d put it all behind him four years ago, though he was certain he’d moved forward with his life, something inside him rebelled. He’d believed her need for position and privilege had driven them apart. She seemed to think his need for a spotless reputation was to blame.

She was right—it had been easy to believe those statements and to think the worst of each other. Only, he knew that her assumptions about him were false.

Florence had been anguished when she’d brought him Elizabeth’s answer to his plea to reconsider her decision to throw him over. A slender, dark-haired girl with the appropriately pious attitude of the daughter and sister of clergy, she’d gazed up at him, blue eyes shining with tears, fingers pressed against his arm.

“I’m so sorry, Brandon, but Elizabeth is adamant that you will not suit. She needs a man of wealth and position to counter this scandal if she is to regain her place in society. Knowing how she was raised, I’m sure you understand.”

He’d understood. His family did not take part in society, for all his father had once been considered a gentleman. Marcus Stillwater had managed his affairs well. Everyone who met him at civic functions and during business considered him a determined, successful man.

But his father had doubted himself—his abilities, his place in other people’s affections. Brandon had never been sure why. His grandfather had died when he and Bo were little, but family stories told of a harsh man. Or perhaps the responsibility of building his business had weighed on their father. Either way, to bolster his flagging confidence, his father had cut down every other member of the family. Nothing Brandon’s mother could do was good enough. Nothing Brandon and Bo did was acceptable. It seemed only by making others feel small had his father been able to feel big. If Brandon had had a nickel for every time his father had called him worthless, he might actually have been the wealthy man Elizabeth had needed.

Given that upbringing, Brandon could well imagine he wasn’t good enough for her. Even while they were courting he’d wondered why she would settle for a divinity student when the very best of Boston society came to call. Still, he’d thought himself genuinely in love, had convinced himself she felt the same way. Florence had tried to console him, but he had pushed her and everyone else away, determined only to finish his studies and escape the stifling confines of Cambridge.

“I don’t believe our love was never meant to be, Elizabeth,” he told her, alternating his gaze between the babies he jostled in his arms. Both were regarding him as if fascinated to hear how his story would end. “Circumstances prevented it from continuing. That’s all.”

He could hear her sigh. “Perhaps you’re right. But those circumstances haven’t changed. I still need a way to support myself, and you still have a responsibility to your congregation.”

A responsibility he took seriously. His kitchen was stocked by well-meaning young ladies who had hopes of one day changing their name to Stillwater. But he had an inkling that being married to the local minister would not be the glorious position they all envisioned. His wife would have to be willing to have her life interrupted for the illness, injury and death of others, the destruction of other people’s hopes, their property. She’d have to celebrate every wedding, birth and civic commemoration, be part of planning each church activity and contribute to every charitable cause. Women for miles around would call on her, expecting to find her house perfect, her life perfect.

He’d seen his mother wilt under impossible expectations, although of a different kind. He did not feel comfortable foisting that burden on another.

“For the moment, you have a way to support yourself,” he said, nodding to the babies. “But I’ll ask around, see if there’s another family in the area who needs a governess.”

Some of the fire seemed to have left her. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

“It would be my pleasure. And I hope, Elizabeth, that, whatever our differences in the past, we can be cordial now.”

He chanced a glance her way to find himself slipping into the blue-green depths of her eyes.

“Cordial,” she said, and the word held a world of doubt.

“Friends, even,” he insisted, giving the babies an extra jiggle that made Jasper smile. “I am the minister of Little Horn, after all. I’m expected to be friendly with everyone.”

The fire flashed once more, as if she was building up a head of steam.

“Well, certainly we should be friends, Pastor Stillwater,” she drawled. “After all, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”

Brandon blew out a breath. She simply could not accept his word that his reputation was not the issue. “This isn’t about my standing in the community,” he tried again. “It’s about what’s best for the triplets.”

Her look eased, and she returned her gaze to Eli, whose eyes were closed as she rocked him in the warm shade. “I suppose you’re right. They get upset even when I raise my voice.”

So did he. He would much rather put a smile on her face, make her laugh, than be cause for consternation.

“Then let’s start over,” Brandon suggested. “Pretend we just met.” He gave her a nod. “How do you do, Miss Dumont? I’m Brandon Stillwater, the pastor of the Little Horn church. I’d shake your hand, but mine seem to be full at the moment.”

She shifted on the quilt, the movement making Eli crack open his eyes a moment.

“A pleasure to meet you, Reverend,” she said softly, as if afraid to believe they could return to anything approaching normality. “I’m Elizabeth Dumont, and I have the honor of looking after these three delightful gentlemen.” Her smile faded. “At least for now.”

Both of Brandon’s babies were nodding off as well. He crouched and laid each on the quilt. Elizabeth did the same, and he pulled up the edge to cover them all.

“What will happen to them after I’m gone?” she asked, straightening as he did.

She was leaving? Well, of course she’d leave if she couldn’t find employment in Little Horn. Why should that fact concern him?

“David McKay is planning to set up a children’s home,” he told her, offering her his hand to help her rise. Her fingers were supple in his, yet they had a strength he didn’t remember from before. “I learned today we may have a house.”

Behind him, he heard a rustling sound, as if something moved among the bushes at the end of the yard. Before he could turn and look, Elizabeth brightened. “Oh, that would be wonderful.”

“It won’t be ready for a while,” he cautioned, focusing on her. “The railroad is building a new home for our stationmaster, Mr. Crenshaw. As he won’t be needing the one he had built before he became stationmaster, he’s offered to donate it to the church. It will need to be renovated first. Those funds will have to come from the Lone Star Cowboy League, as the church benevolence fund is empty after seeing to those affected by the drought.”

“Will you need someone to run it?” she asked, cinnamon-colored brows up in obvious hope.

Brandon shook his head. “I’m fairly sure the league will want a couple, and I quite agree. It won’t just be the boys, you see. Other orphans are scattered about the area, living with distant relatives or friends of the family who are hard-pressed to care for them. The house will be full before we even open the doors.”

“I suppose it will be good for the boys to have other children around,” she allowed, tucking a strand of red hair back behind her ear. “I’ve seen how much they enjoy Maggie’s company.”

David McKay’s eight-year-old daughter, Maggie, was something of an adventurer, climbing out of her bedroom window to escape scolds, swimming in the stream on their ranch with the skill of a fish. David had told him how she’d come to regard the triplets as her little brothers and had been inconsolable when they had to leave the Windy Diamond, the McKay ranch. She’d found solace only because she’d gained a mother in Caroline.

“They’ll have brothers and sisters at the children’s home,” Brandon promised Elizabeth. “And I still haven’t given up hope that someone will want to adopt all three.”

Something flickered across her face, and he wasn’t sure if it was emotion or a shadow from the tree.

“They’re such darlings,” she murmured, gaze on her slumbering charges. “I can see Jasper as the leader, guiding his brothers. Eli is going to be the planner, determining how to make Jasper’s ideas real. And Theo will be the one who comes to his mother and confesses all before anyone gets into trouble.”

He smiled. “Bo accused me of that often enough. Our mother had the sweetest look. One moment in her company, and you just had to unburden yourself.”

“You have the same kind of smile that invites people to confide in you,” she said. “I’m sure everyone in your congregation finds it easy to talk to you.”

She had, once. He could remember long walks through the park sharing hopes for the future, sitting on her aunt’s front porch talking until the stars brightened the night sky. Brandon shook his head. “You better be careful, Miss Dumont. I think you just gave me a compliment.”

She raised her chin. “It wasn’t a compliment. It was an opinion. After all, Mr. Stillwater, we just met, remember.” She batted her lashes at him, and Brandon grinned.

“Ahem.”

He glanced up to find Mrs. Hickey standing at the corner of the parsonage with Mrs. Bachmeier and Amos’s wife, Susan, crowded on either side, eyes wide. Behind him, he thought he heard footsteps hurrying away, but when he glanced back, he saw no one.

“It’s time for us to clean the parsonage, Pastor,” Mrs. Hickey announced, although he was certain the ladies had just been in to sweep and dust earlier in the week.

Brandon offered them all a grateful smile as he turned to face them. “Very considerate of you, but everything seems fine at the moment.”

Mrs. Hickey drew herself up. “Nonsense. We cannot have our minister living in squalor. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Everyone knows that.”

Brandon inclined his head. “I applaud your determination. Since you feel so strongly, do what you must to rid my house of any sign of squalor, ladies. I’ll just help Miss Dumont return the triplets to the boardinghouse.”

Mrs. Hickey brightened. “Oh, is Miss Dumont having trouble managing the little foundlings? Perhaps we should speak to Lula May McKay about finding another nanny. I always thought they would do better with one of our own instead of a stranger.”

He was ready to protest that Elizabeth was no stranger, but she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Right. She still refused to acknowledge their past in public.

“Miss Dumont has the trust of the Lone Star Cowboy League,” Brandon assured the women. “And mine.”

Mrs. Bachmeier and Mrs. Crenshaw nodded, but Mrs. Hickey looked disappointed. Beside him, Elizabeth offered him a smile that made him insufferably pleased with his ability to ease troubled waters.

“Well, hurry along, then,” Mrs. Hickey ordered. “I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of questions about what to do with various items. Unless, of course, you’d just like us to sort things willy-nilly.”

Brandon nearly groaned aloud. The last time Mrs. Hickey had organized his study, he hadn’t been able to find his sermon notes for days.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised the ladies before turning to Elizabeth. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I can see you have very important things to do, Pastor.” Her voice hinted of a laugh.

He did have things to do, and now he had to do them with an audience. He glanced down at the babies. All three had opened their eyes and were regarding him with such seriousness he had a feeling he was supposed to beg their pardon too.

He’d been concerned about his congregation, he’d been concerned about the triplets. Now he found himself more concerned about Elizabeth’s future. He knew it wouldn’t be easy finding a governess position among the ranching families surrounding Little Horn.

But if gossip about him and Elizabeth began to spread, she might never find an employer. The Lone Star Cowboy League might even have to rescind the offer for her to care for the boys.

It very much looked as if Elizabeth Dumont had become his responsibility. A responsibility that, for once in his life, he wasn’t sure he was capable of meeting.