Mistletoe Mommy. Danica Favorite
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a proposal of marriage? It shouldn’t be a surprise; after all, that was why she’d come. But it seemed almost too good to be true to have a husband fall into her lap.
“I cannot countenance such a thing,” Mrs. Heatherington said. “My matches come from careful consideration and selection. This could ruin my business.”
Nellie turned and looked at the older woman. “I do apologize. Fortunately for you, your business had nothing to do with this match. You’d already told Mr. Jeffries that you can’t help him. I hadn’t yet put in my application with you. Therefore, you aren’t liable for anything that happens between us. We are merely two parties who happened to meet at your place of business and came to an agreement on our own. Thank you for allowing us to have this conversation in your parlor. We shan’t trouble you further. Good day to you, Mrs. Heatherington. I appreciate your thoughtful contributions to this matter.”
“You would really marry a stranger?” Mrs. Heatherington looked shocked, like she’d never heard such a thing.
“How is this any different from what you do?” Nellie stared at the woman for a moment.
Mrs. Heatherington met her gaze. “I have a long questionnaire that I use to determine whether or not a couple is suited for one another. I compare their likes, interests, temperament and values, and bring together compatible people to share each other’s lives. But you’re right. You made this decision on your own. As long as you do not hold me responsible, then I suppose I have nothing more to say on the matter.”
Mr. Jeffries stepped forward. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Heatherington. I greatly appreciate the careful thought and consideration you gave to my situation. I can see that you care deeply for doing right by your clients, and even by strangers. It’s commendable, and though we did not use your services, I will always speak very highly of you and your business.”
Then Mr. Jeffries held his hand out to Nellie. “I believe there is a restaurant down the street. Will you join me for an early supper so we can discuss the terms of our marriage?”
Leaving Mrs. Heatherington looking rather like she’d been through a terrible, unexpected storm, Nellie took his arm and exited the building.
The air was crisp, and the scent of burning wood from people’s fireplaces, along with the unmistakable heavy clouds in the distance, told her that deep winter would soon be upon them. All the better to have this matter settled so quickly and easily, then. A few more weeks, days even, and the weather might have made things more difficult.
Once they’d gotten about halfway down the block, Nellie looked up at Mr. Jeffries. The previous scene echoed in her mind like a strange dream. And though it seemed completely out of place, Nellie chuckled softly.
Mr. Jeffries stared at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Did you see the look on Mrs. Heatherington’s face? I thought she was going to die of apoplexy. What kind of person marries a complete stranger?”
She shook her head, marveling at herself. Nellie wasn’t normally so quick in her decisions, but as she’d heard Mr. Jeffries pleading his case with the woman, she knew she had to help him. Who could refuse a man who needed that kind of help?
Besides, she needed his help, as well.
“Us, I suppose.” Then Mr. Jeffries frowned, making him look considerably older than he seemed to be. His blond hair held no flecks of gray, and his face was unmarred by wrinkles. A young man, bearing the burden of a much older one. “That seems incredibly irresponsible, doesn’t it?” Then he sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. It’s been so hard since my wife died, and I’m out of options. I’ve been told I have good instincts for people, and I feel like I can trust you. Plus, it seems as though we are of similar mind, which seems the same as the shared values Mrs. Heatherington spoke of. I must admit, though, what interested me the most in you was your happiness about the children. You don’t mind not having children of your own?”
There was no judgment in Mr. Jeffries’s words. Too many people saw Nellie’s childless state and treated her as though she had some kind of defect.
“I cannot have children,” she said quietly. Shame ate at the pit of her stomach at the admission. Her lack of fertility was one of the reasons Ernest had been disappointed in her as a wife. She hadn’t been able to give him the son he’d wanted, and for that he’d made sure she was punished.
Mr. Jeffries slipped his hand into hers. “Then you shall gain three,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Ruby is ten, Amos is seven, and Maeve is two.”
Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. Mr. Jeffries hadn’t hesitated when she admitted her infertility. Though she had spent her whole life wanting nothing more than to be someone’s mother, she’d always considered it a blessing that she and Ernest had never had children. She couldn’t imagine submitting a child to his cruelty.
Some might think her foolish for wanting another husband, considering how Ernest had treated her, but Nellie had to hope that this time she had chosen better. When she’d married Ernest, she hadn’t yet learned to recognize the cruel glint of a man’s eyes that said he cared only for himself. She hadn’t known the reddish tinge to the end of a man’s nose and the sour smell that came with the overfondness of drink. Back then, Nellie loved the flowery phrases used to beguile because she thought them romantic, not realizing that poetry held little truth and deception was easily hidden behind pretty words.
There was comfort in Mr. Jeffries’s frank speech. He held no air of pretense, and there was no sign in him of the kind of man she’d learned to fear. She’d been honest when she’d told Mrs. Heatherington that a woman like her could not get by without the protection of a husband.
Before she’d come to Colorado, she’d found more than her share of challenges simply because she was a woman alone. People wanted to deal with her husband or her father, not a young widow. Marriage offered her the chance to live without having to continually justify her situation.
But as she looked up at Mr. Jeffries and his gentle gaze, she wondered if he’d have much sympathy if he knew her full story. Knew the horror her marriage had been the last few months, and what Ernest had done. One would think that his death would have brought her freedom, but...
Nellie shook her head. She was free now. In a new part of the country, with a new last name, thanks to her soon-to-be husband, they wouldn’t be able to find her. A man’s debts weren’t supposed to pass on to his wife. Then again, most men didn’t sell their wives to cover their debts. Slavery might have been abolished, but it didn’t stop men from making backroom deals to hand over their wives for financial compensation.
Married to a man who’d had no part in the arrangement, Nellie would be protected from them coming after her. She’d run away when Ernest died, but they’d found her at her sister’s and dragged her back to the horrible place they’d been keeping her.
Where she’d seen cruelty in the faces of other men, she saw a kindness in Mr. Jeffries, a gentleness, and a deep sadness at having lost his wife. She didn’t expect him to love her in that way, but knowing that this man had a heart made it seem safer somehow to trust him. Even though there was still so much to learn about him.
Glancing up at Mr. Jeffries, she smiled. “Since we’re to be married, might I trouble you for your name? I heard Mrs. Heatherington refer to you as Mr. Jeffries, but we should discuss what I am to call you.”
“Luke.” He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand. “And I hope you will allow me to call you Nellie.”
“Of course.” She returned his smile, though part of her wished she hadn’t made the effort. Luke had a pleasantness of manner, and the way he looked at her almost made her feel like a schoolgirl.
But she’d long ago lost any of those schoolgirl dreams.
Nellie hated the thought that she needed a man. But the police only shook their heads pityingly and told her they couldn’t help her when she’d gone to them to escape the men who’d bought her.
“Go