Mail-Order Christmas Baby. Sherri Shackelford
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wouldn’t say the most eligible,” he demurred. “Top three maybe.”
She wasn’t playing fair, ambushing the man like this, but she’d run out of options. She’d been mulling the problem over for the past three days, and during that time, she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Gracie. She’d considered all her options and had come to the conclusion that Sterling was her only choice, for exactly the reasons she’d stated.
The reverend and Otto had merely sped up events, though she hadn’t planned on springing the idea on him quite this way. While all of her reasons were sound, she recognized that Sterling didn’t have as much incentive for taking on the two of them. He didn’t know Gracie, and he’d never fully comprehend her reasoning.
He didn’t understand what it was like to go from being loved and cherished to being an irritating annoyance. He didn’t know what it felt like to be unwanted. He didn’t know what it was like to feel so lonely that a body physically ached.
“I don’t...” He appeared to struggling with some sort of internal battle. “I mean to say...” He tipped his head to one side. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
She offered up a brief prayer for forgiveness considering she’d all but ambushed the man. He wasn’t courting anyone, so she wasn’t treading on any toes there. Gracie needed a home. And while Sterling could probably do better than her, especially considering his wealth and his looks, he could also do worse.
She felt only a twinge of guilt, which was quickly wiped away when she recalled that neither of them had asked for any of this. The whole situation felt like a blatant manipulation. She had no family connections, no money, nothing. A man with Sterling’s attributes had far better choices for motherhood than a nobody like her. She was as certain of his innocence as she was her own. They were both victims of the same bald-faced lie, and they had to design their own solution.
Gracie stood and tugged on the silk flowers of her bonnet.
Sterling offered a half grin. “She never gives up.”
“She’s extremely tenacious.” Heather sensed he was softening to the idea, and sprinted ahead. “Despite what the preacher said today, I truly believe the people in town only want the best for us.”
Irene’s support had been invaluable. Most folks were confused as well as curious. Her students had been inquisitive about Gracie’s arrival, and she’d sensed many of their questions were echoes of what had been discussed around the dinner table with their parents the previous evening. There’d been plenty of stares and whispers. There had also been moments of kindness.
Tom, whose dad owned the general store, had ordered store-bought clothing for Gracie since there wasn’t time for sewing all she needed. Mrs. Stone had sent an extra pail of milk with her daughter to class each morning, while only charging for a single pail. Irene had watched Gracie during the school hours.
For the first few days Heather had hoped to fall asleep and wake to the uncomplicated life she’d led before the child’s arrival. She’d been neither content nor discontent, but somewhere in the middle. She’d resigned herself to a life as the spinster schoolteacher. Anything was an improvement over living with her aunt and uncle in Pittsburgh. If she was going to live a lonely life, she much preferred the view of the mountains to the view of the smelting stacks.
She taught her students and read books during the summer. She’d been satisfied with her life, or so she’d thought. Gracie had changed her way of thinking in only a week. God had brought this child into her life at this time for a reason. Someone to love unreservedly and unconditionally. Someone who might even love her back. Heather had seen plenty of men and women fall out of love with each other, but she’d never seen a child fall out of love with a mother.
Sterling’s back was turned, preventing her from gauging his expression. He rubbed the nape of his neck.
“I misspoke before,” he declared.
A sudden uneasy feeling seized her. “About what?”
He turned.
“Top two.” His grin was crooked and achingly enduring. “I’m definitely in the top two most eligible bachelors.”
She nearly sagged with relief. The serious side of him was gone, and he’d transformed back into the Sterling she knew and understood. He was once again the charming rogue with the ready smile.
Gracie grinned at their shared laughter, wanting in on the joke, and Heather hugged her close. She knew what it felt like to be alone. No one had ever wanted her, not really, not since her ma had passed. Her pa had left her with her aunt and uncle after the war because she was a girl. He’d told her as much when he’d packed her trunks. If you were a boy, I’d keep you, but a girl needs a woman to raise her.
Her aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted her. Even Dillon hadn’t wanted her. Only Gracie had embraced her love with innocent abandon.
Sterling was only grudgingly conceding because he’d been trapped by circumstance.
Her heart did a curious little flip. When he’d arrived at the church, she’d nearly tossed her plan to the wind. In his work clothing he was handsome; in his Sunday suit he was devastatingly so. She had an uneasy premonition she’d been thrown together with the one man who could break her heart, which meant extra vigilance was in order. Love was serious business, but as long as he stayed the same carefree man who made her laugh, they’d do fine together.
She’d made a solemn vow that Gracie would never feel unwanted, and she meant to keep that vow, no matter the personal cost.
“We won’t disrupt your life,” she vowed. “I promise.”
“I don’t know, Heather.” His tone indicated he was teasing. “Maybe I’ll disrupt yours.”
“Never.”
* * *
“For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health...” The reverend droned on and the ceremony was quickly concluded. There’d been no exchange of rings, and only a few curious onlookers had returned for the service. Only Irene and the ranch hands had been there to truly support the couple.
They’d both repeated the words as though in a daze. Irene and her husband had signed the witness book and offered them coffee, which they’d politely declined. There was no moon that evening, and traveling in the dark was dangerous. Instead they’d left the ranch hands in town while they fetched Heather’s belongings.
All of her worldly possessions fit neatly into the back of the wagon, with plenty of room to spare. Sterling lifted the backboard into place and secured the latch. Though there hadn’t been much to move, he’d worked up a sweat. He raised his arm above his head and swiped his forehead against his shoulder.
“That everything?” he asked.
“That’s everything,” she replied from the doorway. “I’ll close up and be right out.”
“Best be quick.”
“I will.”
He didn’t need to check his pocket watch to know they didn’t have much daylight left.
The fabric roses Mrs. Carlyle had hastily pinned to his lapel sagged, and he stuffed the decoration in his pocket. Guilt gnawed at his gut. He hadn’t put up much of a fight against marrying Heather considering her past relationship with his brother, and he didn’t have as many regrets as he probably ought to.
His anger sparked, the heat directed solely at his brother. If Dillon had returned for their pa’s funeral instead of trying to manage the entire Western frontier with his own two hands, he’d have been here for this fiasco. There was a pretty strong possibility the Blackwell name had been attached to Gracie as a matter of convenience rather than design. Any Blackwell would do, and Heather had gotten her second choice in husbands, no matter how much she denied her feelings for Dillon.
He’d never know what might