The Unexpected Bride (The Unexpected Sinclares Book 1)

  All Rights Reserved

  Previously published as Something More by Dorchester Publishing, copyright Nov 2001

  ISBN-13: 978-1-949423-00-6

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To my awesome agent Michelle Grajkowski who is my biggest cheerleader and supports me in all of my endeavors, and to Lizzie who graciously and enthusiastically served as my Beta reader

  PROLOGUE

  Harvestown, Indiana 1872

  Caleb crept downstairs, carefully avoiding the creaky third step. He wasn’t supposed to be up, but this was important. Besides, he was six. That made him a big boy. Daddy had said so. It was one of the last things he’d told Caleb before the accident.

  Caleb’s lip trembled, but he swiped the back of his hand across his nose and went on.

  Reaching the bottom, he crept across the hall and peeked into the dining room. Shadowy figures crowded the table. Dressed in black, they seemed strange, scary. Then he smelled Uncle Seth’s pipe smoke, and the images settled into the familiar faces of his adult relatives.

  Satisfied he was still safely among family, Caleb tiptoed to the parlor. He’d forgotten his pocketknife, and he just couldn’t get to sleep until he knew for sure it wasn’t lost.

  He spied it on the bookshelf, just where he’d put it when Aunt Tabitha told him he couldn’t bring such a thing to his father’s funeral. No matter that it had been a birthday gift from his father. Sometimes grown-ups’ rules made no sense.

  With the treasured possession securely in his clutches, Caleb retraced his steps until he heard Grandfather’s deep, rumbly voice.

  “We’ll sell the farm and use the money to care for the young’uns. Now, who can provide a home to all six?”

  Caleb froze and then eased back into the shadows. They were gonna sell the farm! Their home!

  He chewed his lip. Maybe, if they were gonna live with one of the aunts and uncles, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Caleb rubbed his thumb over the knobby-surfaced pocketknife. Living with Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Seth might be fun. Then Sam and Philip would be like brothers instead of cousins. Course, living with Aunt Della and Uncle Rob wouldn’t be so bad either. Their young’uns were just babies, but they had horses he could ride.

  For a while the only sounds were creaks and shuffling noises. Then Grandfather let out a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to split them up.”

  Caleb stiffened as the breath caught in his throat. Split them up! No! They—

  Aunt Tabitha’s husky voice cut across his thoughts. “I’ll take Annie. I love my boys, but I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

  “Any objections?” Grandfather asked. Then, “Very well, we’ll put Annie in your care. Now, what about the others?”

  Uncle Michael cleared his throat. “Twins should be together. Since we have the most room, Nora and I’ll take Tommy and Timmy.”

  Aunt Della, her soft voice just barely carrying to Caleb, spoke next. “Elizabeth can come with us. She’s a sweet girl, and she’ll be a help with the babies.”

  Caleb suddenly didn’t feel like such a big boy. They were really doing it, splitting them up like a litter of puppies. Only he and Oren were left to claim, and then it would be done.

  “I reckon we could take Oren too,” Aunt Tabitha offered. “He and my Sam get along like they hatched from the same clutch anyway.”

  Lucky Oren! Please, Aunt Tabitha, take me too.

  Grandfather spoke again. “That just leaves Caleb. George, Virgil, can one of you find a place for the boy?”

  Silence. Caleb rubbed a trembling, sweaty hand on his nightshirt. Surely one of them would speak up.

  Grandfather’s voice was gruff when he finally broke the long silence. “Come now. Let’s hear what you’re thinking.”

  “Dorothy and I’ve been hitched less than a month.” Caleb recognized Uncle Virgil’s voice. “We need time to ourselves. Surely you can understand how we feel.”

  Then Uncle George spoke. “Father, you know as well as I do that I can’t take the boy. I’m on board a ship more than I’m home. There’s no way I could take care of a child.”

  Grandfather huffed. “Well then, who’ll take on one more?”

  Caleb inched closer so he could see into the room, anxiety overriding caution. Surely someone wanted him.

  Aunt Della cleared her throat. “What about their mother’s sister?”

  Grandfather Tanner reacted immediately. “Absolutely not! We Tanners take care of our own!”

  “But we are taking care of our own,” interrupted Uncle Michael. “We’re taking in five of the children and trying to find a good home for the sixth. I know Cora Fairfax is a spinster, but she’s still young enough to keep up with a child. And she is his aunt, even if she isn’t a Tanner.”

  Grandfather glared. “She lives in Texas. That’d be like sending Caleb into exile, parceling him off to a near stranger.”

  Aunt Nora took up the argument. “Father Tanner, shouldn’t we at least talk to Cora? If something happened to Mike and me, God forbid, my brother would want a say in what happened to our brood. Why, these are likely the only kin Cora has left.”

  The old man tugged on his beard, his expression as sour as if he’d bit on a green persimmon. Then he sighed. “You have a point about folks needing connection to their kin. I guess, if Cora truly wants Caleb, I won’t deny her.”

  Caleb backed into the shadows again, hugging his knees tight against his chest. They were sending him away! Away from his brothers and sisters, away from his relatives, even away from Indiana.

  Why didn’t anyone want him?

  CHAPTER 1

  Texas, 1894

  “Whistling Oak,” Mr. Farley announced as he yanked open the stagecoach door.

  Left to stay seated or step out as she pleased, Elthia Sinclare pushed her glasses up on her nose. She was too relieved to have reached the end of this long, uncomfortable ride to concern herself with the driver’s lack of manners.

  She picked up the basket that served as Poppy’s carrier, tightened her hold on her parasol, and shifted forward. Moving to the door as if it were heaven’s gate itself, she barely avoided a tumble when the coach lurched and then stilled again.

  “Ooof!”

  She turned to apologize to the passenger she’d inadvertently jabbed with her parasol. “Mr. Jenkins, I’m so—”

  “Watch out!”

  Elthia pivoted, this time carefully pointing
her parasol toward the floor. “Oh dear, Miss Simms, I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s all right, dear.” The matronly woman gave her a tight smile as she straightened her tipsily angled hat. “This is your stop, isn’t it? You just go on now. Don’t want to keep whoever’s meeting you waiting.”

  “But—”

  “No, really, just go on.”

  Elthia looked around. Several other passengers nodded vigorous agreement. Really, this was the nicest group of people. Especially considering the fuss Poppy had made with his yipping eagerness to get to know them all this past hour.

  She gave them a big smile, then stepped through the coach door, ready to begin her new life.

  Feet finally planted firmly on the ground, Elthia took a deep breath and arched her back. Not even the horse-dung-scented air and cramped muscles could dampen her exhilaration.

  She’d made it! Traveled all the way from Massachusetts to Texas on her own. Her father and brother would be dumbfounded when they eventually learned what she’d done. They’d never again be able to treat her as if she couldn’t take care of herself.

  As for what Baxter Dalton thought, with any luck he would completely wash his hands of her, despite the size of her dowry. Which was the whole point of this adventure.

  Regardless of her personal goals, however, Elthia was determined to be the best governess the Tanners could have ever hoped to hire. Then, when the job ended in three months, she would be able to take a well-earned, glowing reference to present to her father as proof that she could make her own way, proof that he needn’t push her to marry a man she neither loved nor respected.

  But enough looking back. Time to start proving herself.

  Her smile faltered as she took in her surroundings. Whistling Oak wasn’t at all as she’d pictured it. Rather than a small town, it was a single weathered building set next to a horse pen and barn, stuck in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t expected to find the bustling, affluent streets of her hometown of Harrelmore, but she’d certainly expected to find more than a dirt road and way station.

  And where was Mr. Tanner? He was supposed to meet her here when she arrived.

  On the heels of that thought, a heavily bearded ox of a man appeared from inside the station. Elthia nearly dropped the basket as her heartbeat accelerated with a sickening lurch. Surely this wasn’t—

  When the rough-looking fellow moved to the front of the stagecoach to help with the horses, she let out a sigh of relief and smiled at her own absurdity. This man couldn’t possibly be Mr. Tanner. Mrs. Pembroke from the placement agency had described the Tanners as more genteel than this lumbering stagecoach handler.

  Poppy’s yipping drew her attention back to the basket in her arms. “I’m sorry,” she told the handful of canine fluff. “You need to stretch your legs too, don’t you?”

  She tucked the parasol under her arm and plucked a leash from the basket. Clipping it to Poppy’s collar, she rubbed her cheek against his, then set him on the ground.

  When no one else appeared from inside the station, she approached Mr. Farley, pointing the way with her parasol. “Pardon me, but are you sure this is Whistling Oak?”

  Hefting a trunk to his shoulder, the lanky driver paused and eyed the parasol warily. “Yes, ma’am. See that old oak tree over yonder with the hole in the middle? That’s what gave this place its name. Big wind blows through just right and you can hear the whistling for near a mile.”

  She chewed on her lip, letting the parasol fall to her side. “Oh. Well, perhaps Mr. Tanner is waiting inside.” But why hadn’t he come out by now?

  Mr. Farley’s scraggly mustache twitched. “Ain’t no horses hitched to the rail. Unless your friend walked, he ain’t here.”

  “But Mr. Tanner was supposed to meet me.” Elthia paused when she heard the what-do-I-do-now tone in her voice. Panic would never do. She could handle this.

  The driver spat on the ground to his left. “Sorry your friend’s late.” He nodded toward the bearded hulk helping with the horses. “But Josiah’ll look out until he gets here. And don’t you pay his rough looks no mind. Josiah wouldn’t hurt a fly, leastways not without good reason.”

  Heavens! Surely he wouldn’t leave before Mr. Tanner arrived.

  She followed him, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride and not trip on her own skirts. “But what if there’s been a mix-up and Mr. Tanner doesn’t show up today? You can’t just abandon me.”

  Mr. Farley set her trunk on the station porch and tilted his hat back. “Sorry, miss, I can’t sit around playing nursemaid until your ride gets here. I’ve got other passengers to think about.”

  Her spine stiffened at the word “nursemaid”—a strong reminder that she’d come here to prove she could take care of herself.

  Ignoring her, Mr. Farley marched back to the coach, hefted another trunk, then nearly dropped it as he turned to find her right behind him. Shooting her a thin-lipped grimace, he shifted his load and stepped around her. “Look, if you want to climb back in and go as far as Turtle Creek, the fare is two bits. But either way, once we’ve changed horses and I herd everyone back on board, I’ll be on my way.”

  Elthia planted the tip of her parasol in the dust at her feet. She hadn’t come this far only to give up at the first hint of trouble. “I’m staying.”

  Muttering darkly about schedules and females, Mr. Farley carried her last trunk to the station porch.

  Barely avoiding catching her foot on Poppy’s leash, she followed the man. “Mr. Tanner is coming from Foxberry. Can you tell me what direction that is from here?”

  He cut a quick glance at Poppy as he pointed to his left. “’Bout an hour’s ride, more or less, that way.”

  She shaded her eyes and looked in the direction he’d pointed. Nothing stirred as far as she could see.

  Before she could speak again, the station manager called, asking for help. With a suspiciously relieved-looking smile, the stagecoach driver touched the brim of his hat. “If you’ll excuse me, miss, I gotta lend Josiah a hand.”

  Twenty minutes later, the stagecoach pulled away from the station, and still there was no sign of Mr. Tanner. Elthia watched the horse-drawn vehicle disappear around a bend, taking much of her confidence with it.

  She lifted Poppy, taking courage from his warm, familiar presence. This would work out. Mr. Tanner was running late, that was all. Nothing to be concerned about.

  Mr. Josiah gave her an uncertain look. “You and your wee pooch are welcome to wait inside if you like.”

  Elthia felt immediately heartened by his friendly demeanor and tone. A reminder that one shouldn’t judge by outward appearances. A lesson she should have learned from her experience with the outwardly charming Baxter. Just thinking about the vile man made her stomach turn.

  “That’s very kind,” she said with a smile, “but I think I’ll wait out here for now.”

  With a have-it-your-way nod, he headed back inside.

  Elthia slowly climbed the porch steps and took a seat on one of the wooden chairs situated there.

  Assuring herself yet again that Mr. Tanner was merely delayed, she removed Poppy’s leash with hands that barely trembled at all. Now that the stagecoach was gone, it should be safe for her pet to do a bit of exploring.

  She clasped her hands tightly, trying to remain calm. What if Mr. Tanner didn’t come? She’d be stuck here with no one to turn to but Mr. Josiah.

  Then she straightened. There was no point in dwelling on such things. Instead, she focused on a less distressing topic—the position that awaited her.

  According to Mrs. Pembroke, the Tanners had two daughters. When Mrs. Tanner’s health had begun to fail, the couple had decided to hire someone to help with the girls. They wanted more than a nursemaid though. They wanted their daughters to receive a classical education and to acquire a degree of polish and refinement. That’s where the desire for a governess with a genteel upbringing came in.

  Elthia started as Poppy sprinted across the porch, y
ipping at a skittering lizard. Crossing her arms over her chest, she decided she needed a different distraction. Imagining the histories of strangers she encountered was something that had worked well in the past.

  Settling back, she set her mind to coming up with reasons why Mr. Josiah had taken a job in this isolated location…

  “So, what’s wrong with her?”

  Caleb swiveled his head to look at Granny Picket, perched on the wagon seat beside him. “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t slow the horses, negotiating the dips and turns of the hilly country road with practiced ease. Stopping to help Granny had already cost him valuable time. Surely Miss Sinclare would wait for him. She had to. His whole plan depended on it.

  Granny grabbed the seat as they hit a bump, then narrowed her eyes and continued without missing a beat. “A young lady from a fine back-East family leaves her home and kinfolk to travel all the way to Texas to marry a man she’s never seen.” She shook her head. “Bound to be something she’s running from, some reason she ain’t looking to get hitched to someone more like her.”

  Caleb kept his expression blank, letting the jingling of the harness and the rattling of the wheels fill the silence. The Pembroke Placement Agency had given him an explanation all right. Miss Sinclare had taken this step to escape the gossip and pity of her friends in the face of her broken engagement.

  He gripped the reins tighter, but even with all the bouncing and swaying from the pace he was setting, Granny kept her hawklike eyes focused on him. He shrugged for her benefit. “The agency assures me Miss Sinclare is a woman of impeccable character and that she likes kids. That’s all that really matters to me.”

  “She likes young’uns, does she?” Granny poked his arm. “She been told you got six of ’em?”

  Caleb nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t hold anything back.”

  She still appeared unconvinced.

  “Look, Granny,” he said, flicking the reins. “I figure, if she’s running from something unpleasant in her life, that’s her business. She’s come here to start fresh, and I promised to see that she gets that chance.”