Rescuing The Preacher (Christmas Rescue Series Book 1) Page 6

  She headed out the door and was about to cross the main road when Grace squealed. “Mama! Mama! It’s snowing,” she said, holding her hand out to catch the few flurries that tumbled from the sky.

  “So it is,” Rose said, trying to sound as excited as the small child beside her.

  “We can build a snowman now.” Her little face looked up at Rose expectantly.

  She squatted down to her daughter’s height. “There’s not enough snow yet, sweetheart. Perhaps in a few days.” Grace pouted, but accepted what she’d been told.

  As they arrived home, Rose felt as though someone was watching them. She quickly turned but there was no one there. She must have been imagining it.

  She looked down into the perambulator to see little Clara trying to push herself up. Excitement filled her. Was she now ready to sit up?

  Rose would ensure she was encouraged in this area.

  She unlocked the door and entered. Thanks to Matthew lighting the fire this morning, the cottage was warm.

  They moved into the sitting room and she added more logs on the fire, then returned the guard to stop Grace getting too close.

  After changing and feeding Clara, they moved into the kitchen, where Rose began baking. Grace was enthralled watching her, and was invited to help. She snatched up the opportunity.

  “Tip the flour into the bowl,” Rose instructed, having already measured the ingredients. She handed Grace a spoon and let her stir the flour. “Now add the sugar and stir it all up.”

  Grace was in her element. Had she never cooked before? It was highly unlikely since her mother had died when she was just a tot.

  Leaning into the cinnamon, Grace suddenly pulled back. “That stuff tickles my nose!” They both laughed. Rose added the eggs and milk, then the chopped apples, and let her daughter stir it all up with a little help.

  Before long the muffins had been placed in the oven and would soon be ready. Rose groaned as she glanced across at the table. “What a mess,” she whispered so Grace wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t her fault – she was just a child.

  It was gratifying she’d enjoyed herself, and it surely helped the two connect as mother and daughter.

  “What’s all this?” Matthew laughed as he entered the room.

  “We made muffins, Papa! It was fun!” He walked over and gave his daughter a hug, then moved to Rose and looked into her face.

  His hand came up and brushed against her cheek. “You have flour on your face,” he said quietly as he stared longingly into her eyes.

  She licked her lips, and he moved closer. Rose was certain he wouldn’t kiss her with Grace in the room, and began to move away. He held her shoulders and brushed her lips gently, then stared into her eyes.

  A zing ran through her body at the contact, and it shocked her to her core. If a light touch like that could make her feel this way, how would she feel when they really connected?

  Rose felt the heat rise up her face, and turned away. But not before she saw Matthew grinning. How rude!

  She quickly cleared the mess from the table, then cleaned Grace up, ready for luncheon.

  “It’s hearty soup again today,” she told her husband, then pulled two bowls out of the cupboard. “Yours has been cooling for awhile, Grace. Let me check if it’s cool enough.” She grabbed a teaspoon and checked the temperature. “Perfect.”

  Matthew watched her every move, but it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. Well, perhaps a little. He’d never done it before, but they weren’t married before. Should that even make a difference?

  She shrugged her shoulders, then dished out soup for Matthew and herself. After placing his meal in front of him, she poured the coffee.

  The moment she sat down they joined hands and said thanks for their food.

  “Have you had a good day so far,” she asked when the prayer was ended.

  Matthew glanced at her. “Excellent. Rose, I haven’t said it before, but having you here has made a huge difference. Now that we’re married...”

  “Nothing has changed much,” she interrupted. “The only difference is I no longer have to leave at night.”

  Realizing the implications of her words, her face heated up. He chuckled but didn’t say anything. Besides, she’d already said enough.

  “We went to the creek, Papa,” Grace said, interrupting the awkward silence that had come over the room.

  He rubbed his hands together. “Does that mean we get to have blackberry pie tonight,” he asked her conspiratorially.

  She turned toward Rose. “Does it, Mama?”

  Rose glanced from Grace to Matthew. “Perhaps.” She turned to the small child looking innocently at her. “Soon we won’t be able to go to the creek, Grace. The snow will make it too cold.”

  Grace pouted. “But I like going there.”

  “Mama is right,” Matthew said sternly. “There will be other times.” He pointed at her food, and Grace began to eat again.

  She was such a well-behaved child, and Rose was thankful for that. She was a sweetie too, but had been dealt a very difficult hand in life.

  Rose was very grateful she’d been able to alleviate some of the stress that had held this family at bay for such a long time.

  Matthew was much more relaxed now than when she arrived, and the children seemed less stressed too.

  “Oh!” Rose suddenly jumped up from the table, remembering the muffins.

  “They smell delicious,” Matthew said, breathing in the fragrant aroma. “They look good too.”

  Placing them on a cooler, Rose put them aside, and returned to the table.

  “It’s nice having you home for luncheon,” she told her husband. “My father never once came home in the middle of the day.”

  He swallowed down the last of the soup before answering. “I’m lucky that most of my work is close by, but there will be times I have to travel to outlying areas. I may even be gone overnight on occasion. I haven’t been able to do that since...” He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to utter the words that might upset his little daughter.

  “I understand. You do what you have to do, and I’ll cope here.” She didn’t like the thought of being alone in the cottage with only the girls, but there was no chance Rose would hamper her husband’s progress. The word of God must be heard, and she wouldn’t stand in the way.

  Bringing the muffins to the table, Matthew reached for one. “You are a breath of fresh air in my life, Rose,” he said, glancing across at her.

  “Thank you,” she said meekly. Warmth spread through her at his words. Winning his confidence and his praise made her feel good.

  He finished his coffee then stood to leave. “You’re not having a second muffin?” She smiled at him and he sat down again.

  “If you insist,” he said, grinning.

  Rose enjoyed living here. Being here with Matthew and the children. Her parents home was never like this. She’d always felt alone and lonely. Her days were filled with boredom, and she certainly hadn’t felt loved.

  Coming to Dalton Springs had changed her entire life – for the better.

  If only she had a real marriage, and not one of convenience.

  She’d been a convenience to her parents, especially her father who had bargained to get rid of her. She didn’t want to be a convenience to her husband, who was obviously a loving and caring man.

  She sighed. If only things could change.

  Chapter Nine

  “I missed you today.”

  Matthew reached across the bed and pulled Rose toward him. He’d spent the best part of the day visiting parishioners in outlying areas; people he had been unable to visit for some months.

  He’d become so used to coming home at midday and spending time with his family, that he really missed it when he hadn’t been able to do so.

  Despite that, it was a good day. Mrs Corcoran had broken her leg a week earlier, and this was the first time Matthew had the opportunity to catch up and ensure she was coping.

  Her sister had moved
in temporarily, so all was well.

  Mr Blackstone, who lived about four miles farther on was heartbroken. His wife had died in childbirth and he was reluctantly contemplating re-marrying. He couldn’t work the farm while looking after the child, who was still at the stage where a lot of attention was needed.

  While Matthew could totally relate, and felt re-marrying had been the best thing in his situation, it didn’t mean it would work for this widower.

  He would see if the Ladies Auxiliary could perhaps put together a food hamper to help Mr Blackstone out in the immediate future. They might even be able to help with caring for the baby to help relieve his anxiety.

  It had worked wonders in his hour of need.

  Rose rolled toward him and smiled. In the days since they’d married, they’d seemed to be getting closer. It was never his intention, given they were forced into this situation, but he was growing more and more fond of sweet Rose.

  He tightened his grip on her, and she didn’t pull away. Her cheeks took on a touch of pink. Was she embarrassed? He hoped not. They were man and wife – there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

  He leaned in and lightly kissed her lips. She didn’t back away, but stared into his eyes.

  “Matthew?” she asked softly. He knew what she meant – she was asking what he was up to. So far all their kisses had been chaste. Sure, they’d been nice, but he wanted more, and he sensed she did too.

  His head ducked lower and he gently kissed her neck, his hands sliding up to her shoulders. “Rose,” he said quietly. “I have come to have feelings for you.” He felt her stiffen under his touch.

  Did she not feel the same way?

  “And I for you,” she said softly. “I’m not sure what that means.”

  Warmth spread through him. Did that mean they could truly become a married couple? Would she agree to a union that included consummating the marriage, and eventually having children?

  The only way he would find out was to ask. “Rose,” he said slowly. “What I said before about having feelings for you, was only half true.”

  She stiffened again. “What I feel for you is more than that.” He stared into her mesmerizing blue eyes. “Despite not knowing each other for a terribly long time, I’ve fallen in love with you, Rose.”

  “Oh Matthew,” she said, joy in her voice. “I fell in love with you soon after we met. But I kept it to myself as I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  His heart thundered in his chest, and his lips covered hers. Rose didn’t pull back or deny his advances.

  Soon they were making love, and Matthew hoped and prayed they would one day make a child of their own.

  * * *

  Clara wailed and Rose began to climb out of bed before Matthew had a chance to look at her.

  Last night was not what she’d expected, and today she felt embarrassed. Could she ever look at him again?

  “Rose,” he whispered. She turned back to face him, against her better judgement, and felt the heat surge up her face.

  He leaned in and kissed her lips. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, brushing his fingers across her tinged cheeks. “It’s natural, and what all married people do.”

  She didn’t know how to answer that, so didn’t. “I have to get Clara up.” She left the room, but heard the movement of the bedding behind her as he climbed out.

  “Mama.” Grace wiped the sleep out of her eyes as she walked down the hallway.

  “Good morning, Grace,” Rose said, heading toward the wailing child.

  Rose had never envisioned her life this way, but was grateful for the way it had turned out. She grimaced when she thought about what might have been had she stayed at her parent’s home and married Jonas Hanson.

  She was even grateful for the spiteful Mrs Stapleton for her interference. Without her, she wouldn’t be married to a man she loved.

  As she approached the crib, Clara watched her every move. She reached out and held tight to the bars facing Rose, then pulled herself up to a sitting position.

  “Papa, Papa!” Grace yelled, and Matthew came running.

  “What’s wrong? Is Clara alright?” His stricken expression proved his concern for his children.

  Rose grinned at him. “Look at what your daughter is doing.”

  “Good job, Clara,” he said. “And I think you mean our daughter.” He pulled Rose close and hugged her tight.

  “My goodness, whatever is that smell?” Realization dawned and he backed away. “I’ll go and light the fire, and... put on the kettle,” he said, making a hasty retreat.

  Rose laughed, then got to work with the job at hand. How he had ever managed to care for the girls before she arrived, she had no idea. Or perhaps he’d gotten used to her doing the ‘dirty’ work.

  Either way, he loved those children and would do anything for them. She hoped he felt the same way about her.

  “What are you doing today,” Rose asked as she entered the kitchen carrying Clara.

  The kettle boiled and she handed Clara over to her father while Rose prepared her bottle, as had become the daily routine.

  “I’m still catching up on visits to my shut-in parishioners. That part of my duties suffered a lot before you arrived.”

  She turned to him and frowned. “Most people were delighted to see the children, but some were not. I didn’t have a lot of choices then,” he explained.

  She handed over Clara’s warmed up bottle, and began cooking breakfast. Bacon and eggs with toast today. She knew Matthew was enjoying having a cooked breakfast each day because he’d told her so.

  He and Grace were eating much better. He’d told her that too. Although she’d been shocked at first, she totally understood. He was a grieving father who had little experience with children, and had no idea how to cook.

  They were both looking better since she’d arrived. Learning to cook had been difficult for her too, but after rummaging at the Mercantile, she’d managed to find a beginner’s cookbook. It had been a lifesaver – for all of them.

  Rose sat as they linked hands and Matthew said a prayer of thanks for their meal, then placed his food in front of him. She took Clara and laid her on the floor on a blanket.

  “I’m keeping Clara up longer today,” she said. “I think she’s sleeping far too much.”

  Matthew glanced up at her. “You’re her mother,” he said. “You get to make decisions about her welfare.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He pushed his chair back and stood, stepping toward her. He held her by the shoulders and moved closer. “I trust you with my children’s lives, Rose. I’ve been doing so since you arrived. Why would that change now?”

  She hadn’t really thought about it before, but he was right. He had put his girl’s lives in her hands. She glanced up to see him staring into her eyes.

  The longing was unmistakable. He gently kissed her lips, then went back to his breakfast.

  She watched as Grace’s eyes went from one to the other of them. If it wasn’t so sweet it would be funny. But Rose knew this was all new to Grace as well.

  The poor girl must be totally confused about the new family dynamic. First Rose arrives to care for Grace and Clara, then suddenly she’s their Mama.

  Heck, Rose would be confused too.

  “I thought we might clean up the vegetable garden a bit more today, Grace. Before it gets too cold for us to do it.” They’d done a little each day, and Grace loved that part of their day.

  She clapped her little hands. “Can we do it now?”

  Rose would love to give in to her whims, but it wasn’t possible. “Eat your breakfast first, then we’ll see.”

  She nodded and Matthew grinned at her antics. He drank down the last swallow of his coffee, then hugged his girls – all three of them.

  “I’ll be off then,” he said, then left without another word.

  Rose finished off her breakfast, then dressed. It wasn’t too bad weather-wise so far today, but they would still need their coats. W
ith Christmas barreling closer, and snow becoming heavier by the day, they would need to rug up.

  With Clara propped up with a pillow in the perambulator, they headed for the backyard. Rose stood back and watched Grace pull at the overabundance of weeds.

  Rose used a trowel and gently moved the dirt about. It wasn’t long before she was able to retrieve six fully grown potatoes.

  “Oh Mama,” Grace said, watching her with awe. “Can we have them for supper?”

  Rose reached down and pulled out a bunch of carrots as well. “We certainly can. These will make a nice stew.”

  She looked up as snow landed on Grace’s face and in Clara’s hair. “That’s enough for today,” she said, opening the door.

  Rose was beginning to understand why her father’s gardener had told her many times he loved his job. It had brought a lot of satisfaction pottering around in this little vegetable patch, and she would never tire of working it.

  She washed the vegetables, then left them to drain. They went into the sitting room, where she sat Clara on the floor, leaning up against the chair Rose sat on, pillows surrounding her.

  She was finally ready to sit up, and Rose would help by showing her how. It was another satisfying part of her new role. “Why don’t you find some toys for Clara to play with?”

  Soon the baby was surrounded by toys, and sat happily playing. Grace sat across from her, encouraging her sister. She looked so pleased with herself, and Rose wondered if Grace had longed for the day her little sister would be able to play with her.

  Rose watched the two girls interact and wished she’d had a sister. Then again, her sister would have been placed in the same situation Rose had been – having to run for her life.

  There was a knock to the door, and she slowly opened it. They weren’t expecting guests. To her surprise, there was no one there, and the gate stood wide open. Rose knew for certain Matthew would not have left the gate ajar.

  Who had played this trick on her? She shrugged her shoulders and closed the gate, then went back to her girls. Clara was tiring and beginning to topple sideways.

  Rose changed her diaper and put her down for a rest.