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A Groom for Christmas (Spinster Mail-Order Brides Book 9) Page 3


  Mary Nelson sidled up beside her, taking the box from her husband and chasing him away. “Thomas won’t mind. Take your pick.” But Ella couldn’t bring herself to choose even one gown. She did however snatch up a few necessities – items she’d considered luxuries in the past, due to her lack of finances.

  She leaned into the display of scented soaps. She particularly liked the one that smelled like roses. It even had flecks of petals embedded in it.

  “You like that?” Mary asked gently.

  Ella stood upright. “It smells so beautiful, but I mustn’t.”

  Mary glanced across at her husband, then reached in and pulled out a cake of rose soap, laying it gently in the box. “It’s our wedding gift to you.” Ella opened her mouth to object, but was admonished. “No argument.” She smiled and leaned in to hug Ella once more.

  It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, and it took all of her strength to hold back her emotions. “Thank you,” Ella said, genuinely meaning it. “You are both so kind.”

  Back at the counter, each item was notarized and added to her husband’s account. The soap was carefully wrapped in tissue paper, and placed at the top of the box. The box was far too heavy for Ella, and George promised to deliver it in the next fifteen minutes.

  She left the store feeling as though she’d made a new friend. If only her marriage was real.

  She shook her head – dark thoughts were in her past. Life would be better now. She had a husband, and lived in a town that didn’t know anything about her.

  So far, the people seemed very nice. She hoped it would stay that way.

  On her way home, Ella glanced at the bakery across the road. She was tempted to go there and make sure Edgar Cronk wasn’t there. She shook herself.

  That was plain stupid. He had no idea where she was, so why would he be here? Why would he even want to be here in Little Rock?

  No, she needed to resist the urge to cross the main road and stare through the window. Ella lifted her chin and made her way back home.

  Home.

  It was the first time in many years she let herself call any place home. She swallowed back the emotion that threatened to overtake her.

  She had lived in plenty of houses and boarding houses, but none had been even close to a home. They’d been a vessel in which to live, but had been void of the one thing she craved – love.

  It was then she realized her new home was no different. Thomas didn’t love her, not even close. He saw her as a housekeeper and a cook. Nothing more.

  Nor did he crave it.

  When he’d touched her cheek earlier, she’d thought for just a moment there might be a chance. But it was gone in a heartbeat, and she was right back where she started.

  She stood at the front gate to the house, admiring the colorful roses. They had always been her favorite flowers, and decided then and there, she must ensure the garden continued to thrive. Flowers always lifted her spirits.

  Even when she’d been destitute, they had made her feel better.

  She paused. If there were flowers out front, was there a vegetable patch out the back? She made a mental note to check.

  Her husband was obviously well-to-do, but that didn’t mean she should squander his money. He’d been kind enough to give her a roof over her head, and a reason to start each day. She wouldn’t pay him back by wasting his hard-earned money.

  With a skip in her step, she headed for the front door and turned the key. She startled at a noise behind her, and spun around.

  “Oh, Thomas!” she said, breathless. “You startled me.”

  He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. It felt nice, and she stared at it. He noticed her glance and pulled his hand away. A sudden coldness set in.

  “I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I decided to make sure you were alright here by yourself.”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you for checking.”

  “Did you manage to make some purchases?”

  “I did. Ah, here they are now.”

  He turned to see George Nelson coming up the street with her box of items. Thomas took the key from her and pushed the door wide. “Thank you, George. I appreciate your assistance.”

  He kissed her on the cheek, no doubt for George Nelson’s benefit. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  George carried the box into the kitchen, placing it on the heavy wooden table. “Lovely big kitchen you have,” he said. “My wife would kill for a kitchen like this.” He winked then left Ella standing alone.

  She heard the front door snap close and began to unpack her purchases.

  Tomorrow she would give the pantry a good clean, but right now, she needed to prepare for her husband’s supper.

  * * *

  Thomas opened the door and wandered through to the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d come home to the wonderful aroma of food cooking.

  He didn’t dislike the idea.

  According to Ella, she’d worked in a bakery and prepared meals, so he was looking forward to whatever she dished up tonight.

  As he moved through the hallway toward the kitchen, he heard singing. It was a nice sound. Was that his wife? It must be.

  She had a lovely voice, and it made him pine for a real marriage with her. But that would never happen.

  The last time he had a relationship with anyone, he was nearly taken to the cleaners. If he hadn’t been so savvy, he would have been bankrupted by the witch. Luckily he was a man of the world, and knew the law well.

  She was incarcerated for some years, since he hadn’t been her first victim. He’d felt such a fool.

  He shook himself. He would not allow that woman to play with his mind again. It had taken him several years to get to this point, and he still couldn’t trust.

  Not anyone.

  And his sister’s shenanigans didn’t help one iota.

  He entered the kitchen and took in the enticing aromas. He moved toward the stove where Ella was stirring something in a pot.

  He stood close behind her. “It smells amazing,” he said. She screamed, and jumped, throwing the utensil in her hand high into the air.

  “My goodness,” he said, grabbing her by the waist to steady her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He stared into her face. She looked terrified. It made him pause. Had someone been cruel to her?

  She stood there, in front of him, trying to steady her breathing. She reached out and held his hands – they were still around her waist, but he couldn’t move.

  He was mesmerized by her.

  “It’s...” She was still rather breathless, and he pulled out a chair and helped her into it. “It’s fine,” she managed.

  He yanked another chair out from under the table. “No it’s not fine,” he said, staring into her worried face. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I will ensure that doesn’t happen again.”

  He reached out and took one of her hands. “I trust you’ve had a good day?” What a stupid thing to say! He’d almost given her a heart attack and he asks if she’s had a good day. He mentally slapped himself.

  She smiled. Which made him smile. “Sorry. That was pretty stupid.”

  “Yes, it was,” she said, getting up from the chair. She leaned down to pick up the utensil that had been previously flung across the room.

  “Let me.” He leaned down almost at the same time, and their hands touched. He felt the thrill as skin met skin, but he wouldn’t let it phase him. He would not allow himself to feel for this woman.

  Who was to say she wasn’t exactly like that horrible witch he didn’t want to think about? Winnie Golden.

  And now she was back in his head.

  She had been beautiful – like Ella. She’d been soft and pliable – like Ella. And she had been after his money.

  Also like Ella?

  That was the question. How could he be sure she wasn’t exactly the same as Winnie? At least this time there was a contract.

  Oh, he hadn’t gotten as far as marria
ge with Winnie, but she’d still tried to get his money. He’d allowed her to buy whatever she’d wanted, and was on the verge of giving her full access to his bank account when it all came to light.

  If it wasn’t for the sheriff having his doubts about her, he would be bankrupt now, and she would be living off his wealth.

  But Ella wasn’t like that. At least he hoped she wasn’t.

  “Excuse me,” she said softly, with those pretty lips. “I need to finish cooking before supper burns.”

  He nodded.

  He felt numb – he had promised himself not to fall in love again, but her close proximity was making it difficult.

  “Please sit down,” she said, more forcefully this time. “Supper will be served in just a moment.”

  Two dinner plates sat on the counter beside the stove, and she began to dish up. He couldn’t see what she was serving as she now stood in front of them. Whatever it was sure did smell good.

  “It’s not much, but tomorrow will be better. I’ll have all day to prepare.” She placed a plate in front of him. It was piled up with fried potatoes, bacon, and pancakes.

  He leaned into it. It smelled delicious. “Tuck in,” she said, grinning at him. Was he that transparent?

  She went back to the stove and pulled a tray out of the oven. Biscuits! He patted his belly. He could see the weight piling on purely from the aroma.

  “Sit down and eat,” he told her. He hated to eat alone. He’d done it for so long now, and he loathed it.

  She did as he asked, and they ate their meal in silence. When he finished, he looked up at her. “What did you do in that bakery? Whatever it was, I’m very grateful.”

  Her cheeks suddenly became pink. It looked cute, but why was she embarrassed?

  “I made the meals for the customers. Occasionally I helped the owner with baked goods, but meals were my main job.”

  “This is the best meal I’ve had for a very long time.”

  She beamed, then jumped up and retrieved the biscuits. She placed them on a plate in the center of the table, along with a large nob of butter.

  He reached out and took one. They were still warm – which was how he liked them. “Mmmm, these are delicious too,” he said, once his mouth was empty. He reached for another one.

  She laughed, and it lit up her face. He liked it when she laughed.

  He paused as he took the next mouthful. What was he doing? He needed to keep his distance, not get close to this woman.

  She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you for believing in me,” she said softly, and he knew he was gone.

  * * *

  Ella sat quietly in the sitting room on one of the comfortable chairs. Thomas sat reading the newspaper.

  “Nearly time for bed,” he said, as he stoked the fire. When she didn’t respond, he glanced across. She was asleep.

  He didn’t blame her – it had been a busy and stressful few days for her. She was probably still catching up after the long trip here as well.

  He snatched up their coffee mugs as quietly as he could, but not quietly enough as her eyes fluttered open.

  She looked confused, then glanced around the room. “You must be exhausted,” he said gently. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll be going soon.”

  It was a good idea, but she hesitated.

  Had she found the spare bedroom? Hopefully she’d settled herself in there.

  She stretched as she stood, then headed toward the bathroom. “Towels are in the cupboard,” he shouted to her back. She nodded and continued on her way.

  It was then a thought struck him – she had almost no luggage. He needed to fix that. He couldn’t have his wife parading around town looking like a street urchin.

  He made a mental note to speak to her about it.

  He left the mugs in the kitchen on his way through, then made his way to the bedroom. He was looking forward to a good long sleep. The last two days had taken their toll on him, and he was still trying to catch up on the work he’d had to put aside to deal with Ella. And Melody.

  Of the two, Ella seemed the easiest to deal with. She wasn’t overzealous like his sister, and although she did stand her ground with him, she didn’t try to bully him as Melody had done repeatedly.

  He sighed as he sat on the side of the bed and removed his boots. Then he pulled his shirt up over his head.

  He heard a gasp behind him and spun around. “What are you doing in here, Ella?” he demanded, snatching up his shirt and covering his bare chest.

  She went pale. “You don’t want me to sleep with you? I thought...” Her shoulders slumped. “Where am I to sleep then?” She looked totally confused. He hadn’t spelled it out, so decided it was understandable.

  “I thought you would sleep in the spare room,” he said gently. “It’s made up, ready to use.”

  She looked rather deflated. “I thought as your wife,” She stopped abruptly and her eyes opened wide. “But I’m not really your wife am I?”

  Thomas stared as she turned her back on him. “We’re just pretending at being married, I guess.” Ella leaned into the wardrobe and pulled out her worn carpetbag and began to remove her possessions.

  There were even less than he’d realized. “Good grief, woman! Where are the rest of your belongings?”

  She glared at him, then averted her eyes. “That’s everything I own,” she said quietly, and he felt ashamed for embarrassing her.

  It might be a marriage of convenience, but he had no right to make her feel bad about herself. “That changes beginning tomorrow. You are my wife, and you have a certain standing in this community.”

  She stared at him open-mouthed.

  “I’ll organize everything. Don’t you worry.”

  She nodded her understanding. “Do I really have to sleep at the other end of the house? Alone?” A sadness came over her, and he felt bad. He hadn’t thought any of this through.

  He had a beautiful young wife, and was exiling her to the other end of the house. What kind of fool was he?

  He looked her up and down. It was far too much temptation, but he didn’t want her to feel rejected. Especially on their wedding night.

  “Alright,” he said gruffly. “You can sleep in my bed.” She smiled but he had to ensure she understood. “It’s still a marriage of convenience. I’m only allowing this so you’re not alone in a strange place.”

  Her smile quickly disappeared. “Alright. Whatever you say.” She pulled the covers back and patted the bed. He watched as she sat on the edge and bounced gently.

  “Is something wrong, Ella?” he asked as she snatched up the pillow and put it to her face.

  Her eyes were hooded. “It’s like the bed at the hotel. Soft and clean.” She looked down at the floor, confirming his greatest fears. She’d been in a terrible situation.

  Probably for a very long time.

  “If I sleep here with you,” she asked quietly, “Will I always sleep here?” She looked up at him. “Or will I have to sleep somewhere else after tonight?”

  The pain in her voice broke his heart. He strode toward her and pulled her into his arms. “This is your bed from now on, Ella,” he said into her ear. “I promise to look after you, to protect you.”

  She went stiff in his arms. “I’m your husband,” he whispered. “Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again.”

  He felt the warmth of her tears slide down his bare chest. It broke his heart.

  He didn’t want to let her go, couldn’t bear to see her like this, but knew they could never have a real marriage. He’d forced her to sign a contract that dictated theirs was a marriage of convenience only.

  The choice had been his and his alone. What a fool he was.

  Finally his arms went limp and he returned to preparing for bed. He watched as she undressed with her back to him – climbing into bed in her tattered and worn undergarments. She didn’t even have a nightgown to her name.

  Once again Thomas wondered about her past, but more than that, he
felt anger fill him at the life she must have endured before arriving in Little Rock.

  No wonder she insisted on marriage – she needed to ensure there was a roof over her head.

  Chapter Four

  Ella awoke with a start.

  As she tried to move, she felt a heavy weight across her back. She gasped, but then realized where she was.

  She’d had the best sleep. Not worrying about what might happen during the night had done that for her. And now her new husband was holding her protectively.

  As much as she loved the way he had vowed last night to protect her, the one thing she craved, to be a real wife, would never happen.

  Right now, what she desperately needed had already occurred. She had a roof over her head, somewhere warm to sleep, and her belly was full for the first time in recent memory.

  That she married a good man was a blessed relief.

  Ella slid quietly out of bed, and grabbed her gown off the chair, then went to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

  She didn’t want to wake Thomas – he was obviously tired.

  She fixed her hair and went into the kitchen, deciding what to make for his breakfast. She settled on scrambled eggs with lashings of bacon on the side. He could also have left over biscuits if he wanted.

  Today she would make a hearty stew, and would bake bread to accompanying it.

  She stoked the wood stove and put the kettle on the stove, then went into the sitting room to prepare the fire there.

  The cold weather was already setting in. Soon it would be Christmas, and snow would follow. The house was already quite cold in the mornings, at least it was if today was any indication. Keeping the fires going would at least help quell the chill in her bones.

  She would ask Thomas if she could acquire a shawl to keep her warm. Perhaps he would buy her some wool and needles, and she could knit her own. It would take time, but she’d endured worse.

  Ella glanced across at the fire. While ever she was in this house, she need not fear the cold. Going outside was another story altogether.

  The egg mixture was in the frying pan, and the stove now hot enough to prepare breakfast. She could hear Thomas moving about, so he shouldn’t be long.