The Christmas Mail Order Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides, Book One) (3 page)

Not like her eldest son had.
Now here he was, lonely, bitter, and the undisputed center of everyone’s attention concerning the woman down the hall.

Clayton took the tray from Milly, turned on his boo
t heel, and headed for her room.  He balanced the tray with one hand and knocked on the door.  It swung open a few inches and he peeked inside.  The sun was setting and filled the room with a soft orange glow.  It was beautiful to behold and he almost dreaded it when he turned and looked at the woman lying on the bed. 

He stifled a gasp as
the sight that greeted him sent his toes to tingling. 

She
was beautiful.

No, incredible!

Why had he not seen her like this before?  Probably because he was too busy feeling guilty for accidently shooting her! But he didn’t feel so guilty now.  The mere sight of her slumbering form chased the unwanted emotion away only to replace it with one even more deadly.

Compassion.

He couldn’t help himself.  Like an injured little lamb she lay in perfect stillness upon the bed, the orange glow of the setting sun causing her complexion to look down right peachy.  Her dark lashes were long and in stark contrast to the creamy smoothness of her skin.  Her blonde hair had come loose from its pins and long tendrils had fanned out on either side of her head upon the pillows. 

Clayton closed his eyes against the unwanted emotions that welled up from deep within.  He tried to steel himself against them and failed miserably.  Loneliness wrapped its ugly fingers around his heart and began to squeeze …

He drew in a deep breath and set the tray down upon a nearby table.  The practical side of him said he should wake her and see to it she got something to eat before the soup got cold. The other side, (what side
that
was he had no idea) said he should stand there and drink her in, every last beautiful inch.  From the top of her head to the tip of her …

Practicality
was quick to interrupt and remind him he’d shot her. 

Clayton sighed, reached over, and gave the pretty little thing’s shoulder a gentle shake.

Three

Summer’s eyes opened slowly.  She heard someone moan and hazily realized the sound had come from her.  Another sound caught her attention and she turned her head to find a man, a
very large
man, standing over the bed bathed in a beautiful golden light.  Her angel …

She smiled at him.  Had she died then?  No, no she couldn’t have.  For one, she smelled
chicken soup, and for another noticed the dull throbbing pain in her foot. This man had to be the one she woke up to earlier, the man who came to her rescue at the Sheriff’s office, and therefore, not an angel. “Hello,” she said softly and decided she’d think of him as her guardian angel anyway.

He took a nearby chair and carefully sat.  He then looked at her and swallowed hard, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  Was something else wrong with her
and they hadn’t told her about it?  She looked worriedly up at the ceiling before letting her gaze once again drift in his direction.

“Are you all right?” he asked concerned. “Are you in much pain?”

She looked up at him.  “It hurts, but not like before,” she said then tried to swallow.  Her throat was incredibly dry and she licked at dry lips.

He quickly glanced ab
out. “Let me help you,” he said as he got up from the chair and went to a water pitcher and glass sitting atop a dresser.  He poured her a drink and came back to the bed.  He then gently helped her to sit up and held the glass to her lips.  She took a few small sips then drank greedily.  She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.  But her thirst wasn’t only for water, but for something else entirely.

What Summer James really thirsted for was freedom.  Freedom from her life at the orphanage, freedom from back breaking work to help Mrs. Teeters keep the impoverished establishment open. And though she loved the woman and her fellow orphans, her time there by law had come to an end and she was forced to leave.  She’d tried to find a job before the appointed time, but every place she looked resulted in a door being slammed in her face.  It was as if the stars had aligned against her and she began to wonder on the long train ride to Utah if the law wasn’t in cahoots with the likes of Mr. Slade, ensuring the man would have plenty of women to fill the many beds of his patrons. The thought turned her stomach and she grimaced.

“Are you okay?  I can get the doctor if you want.” The big man said concerned.

“I’ll live,” she said and turned to look at him. His eyes were darker, almost stormy in their depths as they suddenly caught hers in a heated gaze.  She stopped breathing at the look of concern on his face and let go a tiny gasp.

With
his eyes still glued to hers, he scooted off the bed and into the chair.  “I have your dinner,” he pushed out suddenly. “You’d best eat something.”

She slowly nodded.  She
was
hungry and remembered she’d not eaten anything since the night before.  She’d been so nervous she couldn’t think about food when it came time for breakfast that morning at the stage’s stop-over station. She pushed the thought aside as she tried to sit up only to moan in pain, the movement causing her foot to throb terribly.

“Whoa
there, let me get a hold of ya now,” he said and lifted her so she sat up straight.  She looked at him then, the heat of his hands burning through her blouse to the skin beneath.  His hands were large, his fingers spread against her ribcage.  They stared at one another a moment before he slowly pulled away from her and finally released her altogether.

Did he feel it too?  The bolt of sensation that traveled through her entire body to settle in
the pit of her stomach and chase any thoughts of Slade and his evil lot away?  She certainly hoped so!

He turned to the tray and picked up a bowl of soup.  He started to hand it to her then stopped, his hand stilled by some hidden thought.  She could tell his mind was at work, could see it in his eyes.  He instead sl
owly reached for the spoon on the tray, picked it up, and set it in the bowl.

He smiled then as
his eyes took on a look she'd never seen before.  A look that sent her insides to melting as he scooped up a spoonful of soup and very carefully offered it to her.

She swallowed hard a
s her breathing stopped. Good Heavens!  He was going to feed her!  Surely she could manage a bowl of soup on her own!  Or could she?  The slightest movement sent her foot to throbbing.

“Take a bite, I know you’ll like it.  Milly’s a great cook,”
he told her, his voice soft and low.

Her mouth began to water, but was it from the soup he offered or the look on his face?  He’d taken on a confident air, one that told her he held all the control.  Well, in this case he
did
hold the spoon, so she supposed that gave him some control…

“C’mon, try it,”
he coaxed, his voice dropped another notch.

Its deep rolling sound
sent a delicious tingle up her spine.  She leaned forward a few inches and opened her mouth.  He then ever so carefully fed her the first taste of the most wonderful chicken soup she’d ever had.

She licked her lips, breathed, and opened her mouth again.

He stiffened slightly and she noticed how the muscles in his arms tightened.  He scooped up another spoonful, and repeated the process.  It was the best bowl of soup Summer could remember. In more ways than one!

* * *

Good Lord!  Who ever thought chicken soup could undo a man so effortlessly! Every time he gave her a spoonful his body tightened with every unsatisfied fiber of his being.  But it wasn’t lust.  No, this went deeper than that.
Much
deeper.  This was a soul searing need to be with a woman, to meld into one with her, to be a part of something bigger and better than himself.  He’d forgotten what it felt like to
want
to love someone, to make a life together, to battle all of life’s storms as partners.  In a flash he saw himself married to the woman sitting on the bed before him, so helpless and vulnerable.  The thought she’d traveled all this way to do just that was like a fist to his gut.  He didn’t deserve her.  He’d been all too ready to load her up like some parcel and send her back to where ever his conniving brother had found her.  Speaking of Spencer, where
was
he? Clayton hadn’t seen him since he carried the woman to Doc’s house that afternoon.

He turned to her and rea
lized his mouth hung open like some love-sick dote. He snapped it shut and tried to scoop up another spoonful of soup but it was all gone.  She looked longingly at the spoon, then at him.  Her blue eyes were wide and he fought against a smile.  Did she think he was handsome?  Of course, the Riley brothers were probably the best looking things in this part of the territory and they both well knew it.  But this was the first woman since Sarah whom he
wanted
to think he was handsome. In fact, he suddenly realized he felt a little nervous at the thought she might not.

He fidgeted in the chair and set down the bowl.  He then looked back to her.

“I … I suppose you’re to thank for taking care of me?” She asked.

Her voice came out a beautiful soft lilt. He began to have visions of the st
age pulling out, her weeping from having been forced upon it by his own hand.  He unconsciously balled one hand into a fist.  Good Lord!  What was he going to do?  Punch
himself
for being an idiot?

“I reckon that’s so,” he said as his heart beat a little faster.  She was small, smaller than Sarah and more delicately built.
  He fought the urge to move a stray lock of hair away from her face. 

“I have to thank you the
n.  I don’t know what I would have done had you not acted so quickly and fetched the doctor.”

He smiled.  Her gratitude was genuine, her eyes full of it.  Against his better judgment, he reached out and brushed the stray lock away from her face.  It was his undoing.

The moment his finger touched her skin her eyes closed and her head tilted slightly back.  Heat filled him and he thought he might shoot straight up into the air and right through the roof.  His finger felt as if it had been seared by the sheer softness of her skin.

Her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes.  “Who are you?” she asked on a breathy whisper.

He closed his own eyes as the battle for his heart waged a brutal war for several excruciating seconds.  In reality he could say nothing, get up, leave the room and have Spencer take care of the whole business.  Make
him
play nursemaid to the girl, see to it
he
took care of all the travel arrangements for her return to … oh for Pete’s sake!  He didn’t even know where she came from!

“Sir?  Please … who
are
you?”

Clayton opened his eyes
.  The look on her face was one of pure innocence and trust.  It was all he could do not to moan as
finally
, one side of his soul won out.  He sighed, smiled, and slowly said.  “I’m Sheriff Clayton Riley, ma’am, and I’m to be your husband.”

* * *

“
You’re
Clayton Riley?”  It was then her eyes flew to his chest and there it was.  A silver star.  How did she not notice it earlier?  Where had it been?  Surely she would have seen it? But she’d been in such pain, and then the doctor had given her the laudanum…

She stared at him in disbelief. 
This
was Clayton Riley? Her very own guardian angel? 
He’d
sent for her?  But what if now that he saw her, he didn’t want her?  She understood it could happen.  Solomon had explained it to her the day he came to fetch her from Winslow’s and escort her to the train station. Some men sent a bride back for whatever reason.  If that were to happen she was to immediately let Mrs. Ridgley know so Solomon or Jethro could meet her at the train station.  But Mrs. Ridgley was confident Summer would not be coming back to New Orleans.

There’d
been no sign of that nasty old Mr. Slade as Solomon escorted her to the station and sent her on her way. She’d rested easier once she was on the train but Solomon warned her nonetheless to keep a sharp eye out.  At least as far as Colorado, then she should be safe.

Solomon’s
instructions frightened her.  Would a man go that far to procure another slave for his establishment?  But Jethro and Solomon knew well what a man like Slade would do, for they had been
his
slaves before the war broke out. They’d gained their freedom with the help of Mrs. Ridgley when she too broke away and cut all ties with the likes of Mr. Slade.

But enough of all that!  She came here to get married and by Heaven, she was going to see it through, no matter what Mr. Riley thought of her.
After all, she had to fulfill her end of the agreement. But surely with the way he was looking at her, he must be pleased with what he saw.  At least a little…

She swallowed hard then caught his gaze.  “So Mr. Riley,
” she began. “When do we get married?”

* * *

Clayton’s eyes widened as he froze.  Did he hear her right? Did she just ask when they could get married?  Oh good God!

Maybe you should lock yourself up for being an imbecile!  Of course that’s what she’s asking!  It’s what she came out here for isn’t it?

He offered her a sheepish grin.  Yes, of course it was.  And now that he’d told her who he was, there was no backing out.

Don’t these mail order bride contracts have a release clause?

“Mr. Riley?  Is something wrong?”

He jumped at the sound of her voice.  “Yes,” he choked out. “I mean no!  I mean, considering your injury, I think we should postpone it … for a time…”

Her eyes misted and her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. 

  Oh no!  Don’t cry, PLEASE don’t cry!  I can’t take tears! 
He smiled through clenched teeth as he stared down at her.  “I just thought you might want to be able to stand when we … 
say it, c’mon, say it!
…Get married.”

She sighed in relief.  Did she think he didn’t want to marry her?  Clayton rolled his eyes and slapped himself on the forehead.
Idiot! Of course that’s what she thinks!

“Mr. Riley?”

“Oh, ah, forgot to tell ma you’re here.  I’d best get out to the house and
let her know.  She’ll be very excited to meet you I’m sure.”

“Are you?”

Clayton swallowed, looked her in the eye, and took a deep breath.  Her eyes misted again and her face paled. 
Riley, you CAD!  Man up!  Listen to those around you!  Who has a better head right now, you or someone like Milly? You’ve been lonely for months, MONTHS!  Look at her, LOOK AT HER!

He swallowed again.  “Lord but you’re beautiful.”

She blushed a bright pink. 

The sight made him smile.  “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been myself lately…” Shame hit hard and fast as he stood and turned toward the window.  Heaven forbid she if she saw how rotten he was.  Didn’t he just make up his mind this marriage would be good for him?  Yet here he was, already trying to figure a way out of it.