The Unexpected Bride (The Unexpected Sinclares Book 1) Read online

  He heard her quick intake of breath as he slipped the pin through the cloth of her bodice. Acutely conscious of the curve of her breast beneath his not-quite-steady hand, Caleb took his time with the task.

  The color climbed in her face as he stood there, lightly fingering the gem-studded trinket. What would her skin feel like? Would she recoil from the touch of his callused hands?

  He inhaled the light floral scent that was uniquely hers and suddenly had to work to keep his breathing normal. Could she hear the pounding of his pulse, feel the heat that seemed to be generated by the closeness of their bodies?

  He looked at those tempting, teasingly full lips of hers and wondered what they’d taste like. He leaned closer.

  She stepped back abruptly, her expression confused and wary. “Thank you,” she stammered, avoiding his gaze.

  What was he doing? He lifted his head, trying to pull off a cocky smile so she wouldn’t guess how affected he’d been. She wanted their relationship to remain strictly businesslike, he reminded himself. It’s what he wanted too.

  Wasn’t it?

  “Looks like you got a spot of tea on your dress,” he said, breaking the awkward silence.

  She glanced at the spot on her skirt, then smiled wryly. “Learning to run this household is proving hard on my wardrobe.”

  Caleb, whose pulse had almost slowed to normal, was surprised by her light tone. Had she been less affected by what had just happened than he’d been, or was she just better at hiding it?

  She picked up a rag and dabbed at the spot. “I’m sorry I acted so clumsy in front of Judge Walters.”

  He shrugged, no longer as irritated as he’d been earlier. “No point getting upset over what you can’t change. I’m sure the judge won’t throw out my adoption petition just because you spilled a little tea on him.” At least he hoped not.

  Caleb took the rag from her and set it back on the counter. Then he offered his arm. “Come on. He’s out on the porch waiting for us to join him. Don’t want to leave him at the mercy of the kids and that dog of yours for too long.”

  An hour later, Elthia was relieved to be waving goodbye to the judge. She wasn’t sure what sort of impression she’d made or where his feelings stood as far as awarding Caleb custody of the children. As he’d stepped off the porch, he promised to pay another visit in a month or so just to see how they were doing.

  While not unkind, the older gentleman was both intelligent and perceptive. He had a way of looking at you with his stern, piercing eyes as if he could see your deepest secrets. At one point, when he’d heard her maiden name, he’d speared her with one of those sharp looks. “Sinclare? From Massachusetts, did you say?”

  Elthia had hurriedly tried to stem his speculation. She wanted to stand or fall on who she was, not on who her father was. “It’s a common name where I come from,” she said quickly. “There’s even a wealthy branch near the coast. You might have heard of them. I believe they deal in imports or some such.”

  The judge nodded. “Yes. I think Rupert Sinclare is the head of the family there, isn’t he?”

  Elthia tried not to react to her father’s name, giving a small shrug as she smiled. “That sounds right.” Then she turned the topic with a reference to one of the children. Luckily, Caleb had seemed oblivious to the nuances of the conversation.

  With a sigh, Elthia entered the house. As Caleb had said, there was no point worrying over what couldn’t be changed. Right now she needed to get to the kitchen or Zoe would cook supper without her. Elthia was determined to acquire some culinary skills even if it meant hovering at Zoe’s elbow and just plain getting in her way. She didn’t want to usurp Zoe’s position if the girl truly enjoyed her work, but she wanted to be prepared to step in when and if Zoe ever decided to be a young girl again.

  And she planned to see that that happened soon. Zoe was much too solemn and industrious for a twelve-year-old.

  Watching Zoe and assisting where she could, Elthia found she had trouble concentrating on the task at hand. Her thoughts kept returning to that earlier interlude with Caleb in this very room.

  Having his work-roughened hands on her bodice had spawned forbidden thoughts of how those hands might feel on her skin. Watching his fingers play across her timepiece had raised tingly gooseflesh on her arms. The intensity of his gaze as he leaned forward had mesmerized her, started a fluttering in her chest.

  Would he really have kissed her if she hadn’t stepped back?

  Would she have resisted if he’d tried?

  Of course she would have! This was only a temporary partnership. Neither of them wanted to turn it into a real marriage.

  But the edgy, unsettled feeling she’d had since Caleb reached down to pin on her watch whispered to her that she was wrong.

  By the next morning, Elthia had decided how she would handle her wardrobe problems. After breakfast, she marched upstairs, Josie trailing along behind her. Opening the wardrobe, she surveyed her gowns and pulled out the four most extravagant.

  Next, she looked over her bonnets and found two of them that she was quite willing to part with. Josie volunteered to carry the hats to the bed for her, and Elthia hid a grin as she watched the little girl try on the flower-bedecked creations.

  She turned back to study her three pair of walking shoes and four pair of fine dress slippers. She picked up one pair of each and handed them to her chapeaued helper.

  There, that should be enough. She sent Josie to fetch a sheet for her, and then they bundled it all up.

  Elthia dragged her makeshift sack down the stairs and then left it in the kitchen while she went in search of Caleb.

  Caleb looked up as she entered his workshop, then straightened as he noted her determined expression. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  She nodded. “I plan to visit Granny Picket this morning. I can drive the buggy myself if you’ll give me directions.”

  She was up to something, he could see it in her too-innocent expression. “What’re you going out there for?”

  Shrugging, she traced a circle in the sawdust on the table. “Just visiting. I thought I’d try being neighborly.”

  Lady Privilege visiting the less fortunate? No, that wasn’t fair. She was probably just at loose ends.

  He nodded. “Take Peter with you. He knows the way.” Then he stood. “I’ll get the buggy hitched for you.”

  She waved him back down. “No, no, you’re busy. I’m sure Peter and Alex will be able to help me.” Before he could ask any more questions, she turned and hastily made her exit.

  The feeling that she was up to something, that there was more to this than being neighborly, grew as he watched her call to Peter. The feeling intensified a few minutes later as he caught a glimpse of her tossing a large bundle into the buggy.

  Surely she wasn’t running away, not now after they’d come this far? He wanted to trust her, to give her the benefit of the doubt, but there was too much at stake. He moved to the doorway.

  She spied him as she settled in the buggy, and her expression froze. Then she waved and flashed a dazzling smile. How could anyone look so guilty and innocent at the same time?

  Caleb stepped out of his workshop. He had no idea what he was going to say, just that he had to stop her from leaving.

  Then an excited yipping off to his left stopped him.

  Turning, he saw Josie and that mosquito-sized mutt playing tag. The tension eased from his muscles, and his heartbeat slowed to normal. Regardless of what mischief she was up to, Lady Privilege would be back. He knew her well enough by now to know she would never leave without her pet.

  Elthia breathed a sigh of relief as the buggy turned onto the road. She wasn’t ready to discuss her plan with Caleb yet, not until she was sure Granny Picket would help her.

  Peter looked over his shoulder at the bundle she’d thrown in the back and then at her. “You running away?”

  She turned to face him fully, realizing they were almost of a height. “No, of course not. I’m
part of this family now.”

  “But you didn’t want to be. He made you.” Peter brushed his ready-for-a-scissors, sandy-brown hair off his forehead.

  How much did the boy really know? “What makes you say that?”

  Peter shot her a scornful look. “I got eyes and ears. Anyone who saw you that first night could tell you’d changed your mind. You found out what Uncle Caleb was really like, didn’t you? You looked like a cornered rabbit facing a hungry fox.”

  Elthia tried not to squirm at his unflattering description of her that first night. She should focus on Peter, not her own pride. “Actually, you’re only partly right. I did get pretty upset that night. You see, I’d just found out your Uncle Caleb and I had different understandings of why I was here. And I suppose our discussion was a little heated at first. We didn’t handle it in a very grown-up fashion, did we?”

  He maintained a stony silence, refusing to return her smile.

  She pushed her glasses up on her nose and tried again. “But we did work it out. He didn’t force me to do anything. If I hadn’t wanted to marry him, all I would have had to do was say so in front of all those people, and he’d have had to let me go.”

  The trees along the roadside gave way to hilly pasture land as the silence stretched out. Elthia tried another approach. “I know losing your parents hurt a lot. I know that, because even though I still have my father, my mother died when I was only eight.” She swallowed, remembering the grief, remembering how much worse it was when her father sent her to live with his cousin Melba for several years, because “a girl needed a mother.” As if Cousin Melba could so easily replace her mother.

  But her words had earned her a sympathetic glance from Peter, so she smiled and pressed her point. “You need to give your Uncle Caleb a chance. He does love you and your brothers and sisters very much.”

  Peter’s snort eloquently conveyed his disbelief.

  Elthia frowned. Her intuition told her his belligerence hid some hurt other than the loss of his parents. What was really bothering him? “You don’t seem to believe your uncle has your best interests at heart. Why else would he have taken you in?”

  “Uncle Caleb doesn’t really want us. Aunt Annie and Aunt Lizzie talked him into it. I guess they didn’t want us either.”

  Elthia remembered Caleb saying he’d tried his hardest to find another solution. “But the thing is, Peter, he did take you in when it came down to it. Surely that shows he cares.”

  Peter shrugged, unconvinced. The wagon hit a bump, jostling them, but still he held himself rigid. A minute later he cut her a sideways glance. “So, what was this misunderstanding between you two about? Did he forget to tell you about all us kids?”

  Elthia was aghast that he would think such a thing. Did he really feel so unwanted? “No, of course not. In fact, one thing we do agree on is how much we want to make a good home for you all.” She shifted, trying to figure out how much to say. “The subject of our disagreement is a personal matter, but the important thing is we have it all worked out now.”

  Peter snorted again. “Most likely he worked it out and you had to go along. Just like—” His words halted abruptly.

  “Just like what?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” His face closed again, and he pointed to a narrow, rutted road which forked to the left. “Turn here. Granny’s house is a little piece down this way.”

  Elthia let the subject drop for now, but she definitely planned to get to the heart of whatever it was that was bothering him. After all, helping the children was the reason she’d agreed to marry Caleb.

  Well, the main reason anyway.

  CHAPTER 13

  They arrived at Granny’s roughhewn log house to find her on the front porch, shelling peas. The shawl she wore today was an alarmingly bright shade of purple.

  Granny set her bowl aside and grasped her cane when she spotted them. “Hi there, Elthia, Peter. Good to see you.”

  Elthia climbed down and reached back to lift out her bulky bundle. For the first time she wondered how Granny would view her unorthodox request. Would she be intrigued? Or would she be put off? Well, it was too late to worry about that now.

  “Thank you, Granny. I’m afraid this isn’t entirely a social call. I’ve come to ask for your help.”

  Granny’s eyes lit with curiosity as she studied the bundle. “You just tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you come inside and let me pour you a cup of my homemade apple cider?”

  Elthia smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

  Granny turned to Peter, who lounged against the buggy, hands in his pockets. “You’re welcome to come inside too.”

  But Peter shook his head. “No thank you, ma’am. I’ll just stay out here with the buggy.”

  At least the refusal had been polite. Elthia touched his arm in acknowledgment, then followed Granny.

  The house was quite small. A creaky front door opened into single room, functionally divided almost evenly between a kitchen/dining space and a parlor. Elthia spied a closed doorway in the far wall, which undoubtedly led to a bedroom.

  Granny waved her to the parlor, where Elthia took a seat on the faded sofa, placing her bundle at her feet. Granny handed her a cup of the amber-colored drink and then settled in a rocking chair facing her.

  Elthia took a sip of the cider, enjoying its tangy sharpness. “Thank you, Granny. This is quite good.”

  Granny nodded and set her own now-drained cup on a small side table. “So, what is it you want my help with? Got some mischief brewing, have you?” She leaned forward eagerly, as if she relished the idea of getting involved in a bit of mischief.

  Elthia smiled. “Not mischief, precisely. My problem is, I’m afraid I’ve discovered I didn’t pack the right kind of clothing for life here. Most of my things are too showy or too delicate to allow me to be very active.”

  Granny cocked her head, studying the dress Elthia wore. “If your other things are anything like what you’ve got on today, I reckon I’d have to agree.” She looked disappointed. “If you’re asking me to stitch you some new clothes, though, I’m afraid I’ll have to warn you that my handiwork is only passable at best.”

  Elthia shook her head. “No, no, I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you to such a degree. What I have in mind is something that I hope will be a bit more fun.” She stood and unwrapped her bundle. “I want you to work out a trade for me.” She quickly laid everything out on the sofa.

  Granny’s eyes lit up as she moved to Elthia’s side. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, fingering the gowns.

  “Since you’re more familiar with the people of Foxberry than I am, I hoped you could find a lady about my size who would be willing to trade some of her clothes for these. I don’t care about color or style, just so the dresses are suitable for working about the house or playing with the children.” She looked up hopefully. “What do you think?”

  Granny nodded. “We won’t have trouble finding gals willing to trade. You’re a mite slimmer and shorter than most, so that’ll narrow the choices some. But I think we’ll still be able to spread it out over several ladies. Now, how many garments do you want in exchange for yours? I wouldn’t think you’d have any trouble getting two or three apiece for each.”

  “I think a one-for-one trade would be best.” Sharing from her ample wardrobe felt right. She was embarrassed by how little thought she’d given to her material advantages in the past.

  Granny wrinkled her nose, then shrugged. “Your choice. Now leave this with me and I’ll take care of it. Should be able to bring your new clothes to you in a day or two.” Her gaze fell on the hats Elthia had brought. Lifting one, she fingered the silk roses adorning the brim. “My, but ain’t this a beauty.”

  “It’s yours,” Elthia said impulsively. “You can take it as commission for working out the swaps for me.”

  Granny protested, but Elthia held firm and convinced the not-too-reluctant woman to accept the offer. Delighted with her new posse
ssion, Granny tried it on, preening for Elthia’s benefit.

  A few minutes later, Elthia glanced out the window, checking on Peter. The boy now sat on the porch steps, intently whittling on a stick of wood. So he had some interests besides sulking. And surely this hobby, regardless of the level of Peter’s talent, was common ground for Caleb to use in reaching out to the boy.

  By the time the ladies stepped outside, the knife and wood were nowhere in sight. Instead, Peter leaned against the porch rail, hands stuffed in his pockets.

  As they climbed in the buggy, she thanked Granny again for her willingness to help. Wryly, she figured she was probably the first bride in history who deliberately set out to wear less attractive clothes in order to please her husband. She just hoped Caleb appreciated her efforts.

  When they pulled the buggy to a halt at home, Alex ran up to greet them. “Come see what me and Uncle Caleb made.”

  The excited boy led them to the back of the barn. “Look,” he said as they’d rounded the corner, “aren’t they great?”

  The object of his enthusiasm was a series of five large cages built against the back wall of the barn. The wire-and-wood pens seemed almost complete, in fact one already housed the cat Alex had brought back with him from town.

  “It’s for my critters,” the boy added unnecessarily. “So I’ll have a place to keep ’em safe when they need doctoring.”

  Caleb stood on a ladder nearby, nailing something to the barn above the cages. He paused long enough to greet them. “Welcome back. Did you have a nice visit with Granny?”

  Elthia could tell he was still curious about her purpose. Unless he asked, though, she’d wait until she saw what Granny came up with before enlightening him. “Yes, I did. And Peter was good company on the ride over and back.”

  Alex was proudly pointing out the features of the setup to Peter. “See the latch Uncle Caleb and I fashioned? I’ll bet not even a raccoon could get out of here less’en I wanted him to.”

  Elthia glanced back up at Caleb. “I thought you didn’t like his taking in so many strays?”