Groom by Arrangement

The nasal voice of Miles Thatcher caused Eliza to pause. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Billings. Your wife has been most gracious in your absence.”

She turned around to see who he was speaking to. Eliza found him extending his hand out to Jackson and waiting for the other man to respond. Poor Mr. Hart, this was the second time in two days that he’d been mistaken for another man.

Jackson took the extended hand and gave it a firm shake. His voice carried a sharp edge to it. “I’m Jackson Hart. The marshal is still in Durango.” He released Miles’s hand.

A hard glint entered the scholar’s eyes. “It was my understanding that Mr. Billings would be escorting my future bride home. Isn’t that correct, Mrs. Billings?”

Eliza felt the change in Rebecca’s composure as the scholar turned his attention on her. Dislike seemed to radiate from her friend.

With her back straight and her shoulders squared, Rebecca’s voice hardened to match her accuser’s. “I can assure you, Mr. Thatcher, that is the truth as I knew it at the time. My husband’s plans must have changed.”

“I can see that,” he snarled back at her. His beady green eyes riveted back onto Jackson, reminding her of a snake about to strike out again. “What is going on here?”

Eliza sighed. She’d have to deal with Miles Thatcher now, but she didn’t want a public viewing of their situation. “Mr. Thatcher, if you would be so kind as to come with us to the Billingses’ home, we’ll explain everything.”

He stomped his foot and crossed his arms over his narrow chest much like Jackson had done a few moments earlier, only instead of looking like a force to be reckoned with, Miles Thatcher resembled an angry child. “I will not have this postponed, madam. I want to know who this man is and what he is to you.” His voice dripped poison.

The crowd around them gasped at the underlining implication. Eliza couldn’t believe her ears. Her gaze searched out Jackson’s. His blue eyes locked with hers. Then, without taking his gaze from Eliza, he stepped so close to Miles that their noses were almost touching. His jaw clenched as he answered the man. “I told you, my name is Jackson Hart. What I am or am not to this woman is none of your business.”

Eliza felt flames of embarrassment lick up her neck and into her face. She wanted to crawl into a hole and never return. Now the whole town was curious as to who he was and what his business was with her. She saw several of the older ladies standing off to one side. Their heads were together, and the whispering had commenced.

Miles’s thin face paled as if he’d just realized the danger he’d put himself in by confronting her in public. His shoulders squared and he lifted his head. In a steady voice he announced, “Mrs. Kelly, under the circumstances, I cannot marry a fallen woman.”

Chapter Four

If he lived to be a hundred, Jackson would never forget the gasps of surprise arising from the gathered group of people. He advanced on the little man once more. How dare he defile Eliza’s reputation in such a manner!

“Mr. Hart, wait.” Eliza’s cool voice stopped him in midstep. He looked at her face and saw rage in her molten-brown eyes.

He stepped away from the man when all he wanted to do was give him a good shake. Jackson watched in amazement as Eliza’s shoulders straightened, her chin came even farther up and she took a step toward Miles Thatcher.

“I’ll have you know, I have not now or ever planned on marrying you. I didn’t write those letters, and I am not obligated to stand behind any promises that might or might not have been made in them. Mr. Thatcher, I think your business here is done. I suggest you leave town the same way you arrived.” With that Eliza scooped up her skirt and walked away. Rebecca Billings trotted along after her.

Jackson glared at the little man with the beady eyes. “I suggest you do as the lady says,” he growled low in his throat.

Miles jumped back and lifted his head before turning around and walking away in the opposite direction.

He was thankful Eliza had mistaken him for the little man. Jackson had to wonder, if the circumstances had been different, would she have married Miles Thatcher? No, he didn’t believe she would have. He’d been proud of the way she’d stood up to her mail-order groom.

“Mr. Hart, please bring the wagon to the Billingses’.” Eliza called over her shoulder. Jackson nodded; he tried to ignore the soft quiver in her voice.

The rest of the crowd began to return to their shops and homes. He noticed an older group of women whispering to one another and heard the word shameful hissed by one of them as they left.

“Better do as Eliza says—she’s in a mood now.” Jackson recognized the man who spoke as the one who’d just offered his home to Eliza. He wore a leather apron, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up.

“I suppose you’re right.” Jackson grabbed the horses’ halter and proceeded to pull them in the same direction the women were headed. He knew without introductions that the man was Dan Tucker, the blacksmith. His leather apron and bulging biceps gave away his occupation.

When Dan fell into step beside him, Jackson silently prayed this was God’s way of bringing them together.

“Name is Dan Tucker,” the big man offered.

“Jackson Hart.” He stopped the horses and extended his hand. “And you are just the man I wanted to see.”

“Looking for a blacksmith, are ya?” Dan cocked a blond eyebrow at Jackson.

“Not just any blacksmith—you.” Jackson continued pulling the horses in the direction Eliza and Rebecca were headed. He watched the marshal’s wife lead Eliza into the house; she turned and pointed toward the barn.

Jackson waved and nodded that he understood. She smiled and entered the house. He felt sure Rebecca Billings would have lots of questions for Eliza regarding him.

Dan walked along beside him. He rubbed his chin and asked, “What do ya need me for?”

“The marshal suggested you are in need of a journeyman to watch over the shop while you and the missus travel back east.” Jackson entered the barn. The sweet fragrance of hay greeted him. He began to unharness the team, allowing Dan time to mull over his words. He took one mare and led her to a stall while Dan did the same with the other.

Dan handed him a brush. “So, Seth sent you my way.” He began grooming the horse he’d taken charge over.

“Yes, sir. He did.”

A warm chuckle erupted from the blacksmith. “Now, don’t start calling me sir. Just call me Dan. You’ll find if you stick around that most folks here go by first names. We’re more laid-back than city folks.”

“All right.” Jackson worked the sides of the mare with the brush. “Dan, the truth of the matter is, I need a job and Seth thought you could use me.”

Dan placed his brush on a bale of hay and turned to face Jackson. “Seeing how Seth is the one making the recommendation, I think you’d be perfect for the job.” He leaned against the stall door. “Would you be able to stay on a year?”

Jackson thought about Eliza Kelly. If he stayed on for that long he’d be able to help her get her shop rebuilt and save enough money to go to Silverton. He hoped his father would stay there long enough for him to catch up. Jackson nodded. “I figure I could.”

“I can only offer you two dollars a day and the use of a room off the smithy while we’re gone.” Dan leaned on the side of the horse. His blond eyebrow was cocked once more as he waited for Jackson’s answer.

Jackson saw a sack of oats sitting against the barn wall. He walked over and filled two buckets. Two dollars a day was fair pay, especially since Dan was willing to let him use the room, too. He gave the horses the oats and dusted off his hands. “I think it’s only fair to tell you that Seth and I are not close friends.”

Dan laughed. “Seth Billings is a good judge of character. He trusted you to escort Eliza Kelly home, and you did just that. I also saw the way you defended the little lady, and that made me like you even more. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you just confessed you weren’t a close friend of our marshal. So if you want the job, it’s yours.” Dan pushed away from the stall and stepped closer to Jackson.

Jackson extended his hand. “I’ll work hard.”

“I believe you will,” Dan answered as they shook hands.

He started to walk out of the barn but stopped halfway through the door. “Come on over once you get Eliza settled. I reckon the poor woman is going to have a rough time of it for a while.” He shook his head and walked out.

Jackson thought about Eliza as he secured the wagon. What was she going to do? Would she take the Tuckers up on their offer of a home? His gaze moved over the fabric and boxes of supplies she’d bought for her store. He thought about driving them over to the Tuckers’ home, but she hadn’t agreed to stay at their place. The supplies might be all right overnight in the barn, but he didn’t think they should be left out in the barn much longer than that. Tomorrow he’d ask if she wanted them moved someplace else.

Jackson pulled his bag and Eliza’s from behind the seat. He saw the little doll she’d worked on earlier in the day and gently placed it inside Eliza’s bag. The woman was precious; her consideration for others touched his heart. He wondered if her community realized what a jewel they had.

He took his time walking toward Rebecca and Seth’s house. His gaze moved about what he could see of the town. It seemed as if everyone had returned to their businesses and homes.

Thankfully, he didn’t see Miles Thatcher anywhere about. He’d already decided that if he did see the little man again, he’d make sure Miles left town. Even if he had to tie him to the saddle. He pushed the thought away and prayed the little man hadn’t damaged Eliza’s standing in town.

Jackson sighed. Cottonwood Springs was to be his home for a full year. He prayed he’d fit in here better than he had in other small towns. It seemed odd that Miles Thatcher was the man who was supposed to have moved here and now he found himself taking the little man’s place.

As he reached the side of the house, Eliza’s voice came through the open window. Jackson stopped and leaned against the building. He tilted his head to the side to hear her better. She sounded both sad and desperate. He rubbed the stubble on his chin as he listened.

“What am I going to do? I can’t stay here. Now don’t interrupt, you know it’s true. You have the baby, Janie, Seth and Ruthann plus yourself living here in a three-bedroom house. There is no room for me. Not that I’m blaming you, I just can’t ask you to add another person to the mix.” She didn’t give Rebecca time to answer. “I am so glad Millie had already gone home when it happened, but I’d love to know how the fire started. Did Millie say?”

Rebecca’s soothing voice floated to him. “You can stay here until the Tuckers leave town and then take them up on their offer of using their house until yours is rebuilt.”

Eliza’s miserable sigh drifted to him. “What about Seth?”

Loneliness filled Rebecca’s voice as she answered, “What about him? He’s in Durango for who knows how long. You and I both know those trials can last weeks.”

Eliza’s voice lost all sounds of desperation as she reassured her, “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I know you miss him.”

She’d seemed to have put her own concerns to the side to comfort her friend. Jackson wondered if Eliza was always this giving to others.

“Oh, you stop that!” Rebecca giggled. “I’m supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around.”

Sadness reentered Eliza’s voice. “What am I going to do about the business? I don’t have enough funds in the bank to rebuild. I bought a few supplies in Durango but didn’t buy buttons. I should have bought buttons.”

Rebecca chuckled. “Only you would think about buttons at a time like this, Eliza.”

Eliza’s soft twinkling laugh joined her friend’s. “I do tend to have a liking for them, don’t I?” Her voice sobered and she said, “It doesn’t matter now, does it? What am I going to do, Rebecca?”

Jackson wanted to help but didn’t know what he could do. The thought that the Bible spoke of helping widows troubled him. It was his duty to help Eliza Kelly. He frowned as he tried to figure out how. If only Miles Thatcher had been a decent man, he could have married Eliza and she’d have a home again.

He frowned, not liking that thought at all.

Why had her friend Hannah ventured outside the community to find them husbands? Earlier in the day, Eliza had explained that Cottonwood Springs had a new schoolteacher because Hannah had been accused of being fresh with one of her students. Hannah had been mortified that the residents of the town would believe such a lie and had decided to become a mail-order bride. But why had she searched for a husband for Eliza, too? Weren’t there any eligible men in the area to marry?

Rebecca’s voice reached his ears again. “We’ll figure out something. Now as soon as your Mr. Hart brings us your bag, we’ll get you into a hot bath and tonight you can sleep in my room with me.”

“All right but you didn’t answer my question.”

One of the ladies blew her nose. Jackson suspected it was Eliza.

Rebecca laughed. “Which question? You ask them and then speed along until I forget what you asked.”

Jackson almost chuckled. He was glad he wasn’t the only one who had problems keeping up with Eliza’s train of thought.

A huff filled the air before Eliza repeated her question. “Did Millie know what started the fire?”

“No, but since both the sheriff and Seth are out of town, Reverend Griffin did a little snooping around and found a half-smoked cigar behind your house. The men are speculating that some of the local boys might have snuck back there for a smoke. And Mr. Walker confirmed that several of the nasty things were missing from a new shipment he’d gotten in his last order.”

Eliza asked the question Jackson was thinking. “If there was only one cigar behind my house, why do they think a group of boys were smoking back there? I mean, that doesn’t make sense, does it? No, I would think they would have found more cigars. Maybe it was just one boy, sneaking a smoke.”

Rebecca added, “Maybe the other boys took theirs with them. Anyway, Seth will figure it out when he gets home.” Rebecca’s voice took on a motherly tone as she soothed. “Come on now, drink your tea and I’ll go out to the barn and check on your Mr. Hart.”

“He’s not mine.”

Rebecca giggled. “If you say so.”

Jackson pushed away from the wall and headed toward the front of the house. He didn’t want the women to know he was eavesdropping on their conversation. Now that he thought about it, it really wasn’t a nice thing to do.

After delivering Eliza’s bag and assuring Rebecca that the animals were settled in, Jackson walked to the smithy. Rebecca Billings had called him Eliza’s Mr. Hart. He shook his head. Women said the strangest things, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be married to Eliza and be her Mr. Hart. He pushed the thought away. She seemed like a sweet woman, but he didn’t delude himself into thinking she’d ever care about him. And why should she? He wasn’t loveable and didn’t deserve her care. He didn’t enjoy his feelings of protection where Eliza was concerned. Would he become too attached to her if he stayed here?

Jackson pushed the worrisome thought away and focused on the small town as he walked. New trees had been planted along Main Street in front of the newspaper office and the doctor’s office. Several of the stores had flowerpots sitting in front of them with fresh green shoots coming up. Soon there would be colorful flowers in them.

The wind blew from the opposite end of town, bringing with it the scent of sawdust from the sawmill and the burnt odor of Eliza’s shop. How was Eliza going to refinance her store?

He didn’t have far to go to find the smithy. Dan’s home was right behind the druggist. The livery sat beside that, and the smithy was across the street from the livery. He took a deep breath and entered the smithy. The smell of heated metal filled his nostrils. Comfort eased over his taunt shoulders. His eyes began adjusting to the dimmer light. This felt like home.

Home. Jackson’s thoughts returned to Eliza and the fact that she didn’t have a home or the money to restart her business or build a new house. Upon reflection, he realized that he’d come into town and gotten a job and roof over his head in a matter of hours. She’d come into town and realized within minutes that she was homeless and without a job. It didn’t seem quite fair.

He released the air in his lungs and silently prayed. Lord, please rebuild Eliza’s life. And, Father, if I am to be part of her restoration, help me to do and say the right things. Amen.

The thought entered his mind: What if God asked him to do more for Eliza than he wanted?

Chapter Five

Eliza looked about the spacious sitting room. She held her bag tightly in her hands, aware that all her belongings were in the bag.

“Please sit, Eliza. I made a pot of tea. I remember how much you enjoy tea.” Sally Tucker indicated a rocking chair across from where she sat on the sofa.

After sitting, Eliza placed her bag beside the chair at her feet. “Thank you,” she muttered, wishing she could be anywhere else.

Rebecca had promised this would be easy—that Sally was a friend—but it wasn’t easy. Taking charity from others was never easy. Now Eliza understood why some women shunned her help when she offered them new dresses to replace their worn-out ones. It had been shame at needing such things.

She looked up to find Sally’s pale blue eyes full of compassion. Sally wore a yellow day dress with black ribbons around the top and skirt. A row of black buttons lined the front of her blouse; her rounded tummy caused the buttons to gather slightly. Eliza had the urge to tell her that she could let the ribbon out slightly to give her baby more room to grow.

Sally handed her a cup of tea. “Help yourself to cream and sugar,” she offered.

“It’s fine, thank you.” Eliza took a sip of the tea. She felt awkward and little beads of perspiration formed on the back of her neck.

Sally added both sugar and cream to her cup. “Dan and I appreciate you taking care of the house for us, Eliza. I was so unhappy to leave it, but now, knowing you are here puts my fears to rest.”

Did Sally really think she was helping them and not the other way around? Or was she just being kind? Eliza swallowed. “It is I who should be thanking you.”

“Nonsense.” She smiled at Eliza. “It’s nice to have friends who can help each other out. You’ve been there for us several times. Remember when Dan burned his leg? You made him a brace to help keep his pant legs from touching the raw flesh. And then there was the time I needed to bake a cake for the church social and I was short on cash that week, you stepped right in and gave me a cake to take.”

Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but Sally held up a hand to silence her. “There were other times, too, but I think I’ve made my point. You are a good friend, Eliza. We all feel lucky to have you. So please don’t feel uncomfortable about using our home while we are gone.”

“You really feel that way?” Eliza wanted to believe that she was being a help and not a charity case.

Sally nodded. “Of course.”

Eliza felt a smile pull at her lips. “I’m glad.”

“Didn’t you arrive with a wagonload of supplies?” Sally asked, setting her cup back down on the table.

Reminded of the material, threads and other notations, Eliza nodded. “Yes, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do with them now,” she confessed.

Sally scooted forward on the sofa, and her eyes sparkled. “I have an idea.”

Eliza tilted her head sideways and studied the other woman. “Oh?”

“This room is the main sitting room. There is a smaller one in the back of the house that Dan and I use when not entertaining. I was thinking that you might be able to turn this one into a small shop. It wouldn’t be as fine as the one you had, but I think it would make a nice storefront, if you wanted to use it as such.” She looked down at her stomach and spread the material over it.

Eliza looked about the room. It would be nice. A large window faced the road, and she could have a sign made to hang in it, announcing she had hats and dresses for sale. She began to envision how to display her goods. Her gaze moved back to Sally. “Are you sure you and Dan wouldn’t mind?”

The young woman’s face broke out into a wide grin. “We’d love it. Last night I thought of it, and he said if you agreed, he’d have Mr. Hart help him move the furniture from this room to one of the back bedrooms. We’ve already moved the stuff that was in there against one wall, so now there is plenty of room for this furniture.”

Tears filled Eliza’s eyes at her friends’ kindness. She’d have wanted to do just what they proposed but wouldn’t have done so without their permission. “Oh, thank you. If I can open my shop here, I’ll be able to save the money to rebuild.” Eliza jumped to her feet. “We can put my supplies in that corner until I can start making dresses. Oh, but I don’t have a sewing machine.” She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Once more she was reminded of just how much she’d lost in the fire. Everything.

“You can use mine,” Sally offered.

Eliza dropped back down into her chair. “I didn’t know you had a sewing machine.”

Pink colored Sally’s cheeks as she confessed, “Dan bought it for me as a wedding present, but I have no idea how to use it.”

Once more Eliza felt her face break into a smile. “I’ll teach you when you come home.”

Sally clapped her hands. “That would be wonderful. We’ll start with baby clothes. I still can’t believe I’m going to have a baby.” Her eyes sparkled with joy.

Eliza felt a moment of remorse. She’d never have a baby and wondered what it would feel like. Charlie had wanted children, but after three years of marriage, they’d not had any. He had said it didn’t matter but she’d seen him watching children playing and knew that she’d disappointed him. She never wanted to see such deep disappointment in a man’s eyes again. Thankfully, she hadn’t been obliged to tell Miles Thatcher that she could never have children; she’d been saved from him turning away from her. Deep in her heart, Eliza believed no man could love a barren woman.

* * *

Jackson carried the small table toward the back of the house to the spare bedroom where they’d carried all the other heavy furniture. His back was tired, but the joy on Eliza’s face would be worth it. He still marveled that the Tuckers were so free with their home and business.

“Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us, Jackson?” Dan offered, slapping him on the back.

“Sounds good.” Jackson followed Dan into the dining room. The Tucker home was bigger on the inside than it looked from the road. So far he’d seen the main sitting room, three bedrooms and a dining room, and he knew there was a kitchen somewhere because the warm smells of pot roast filled the house.

“Smells good, too,” Dan said, taking a seat at the square table. “Sally’s the best cook in town.”

Jackson smiled. “I’m sure she is.” He sat down at the other end of the table.

Sally entered the dining room, carrying a large platter of meat. “Have you men washed up?” She eyed Dan.

He wiped his hands on his pants and nodded.

“With soap and water?” she asked, placing the meat on the table.

Jackson hid the grin that twitched at his lips. Dan reminded him of a boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Come on, Jackson. She won’t believe us until she can smell the soap.” Dan’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor.

“Dinner will be ready when you get back,” Sally called after them.

Jackson couldn’t help but envy the warmth between the couple. Dan Tucker loved his wife, and she returned that love. It was in their eyes and voices every time they were together. He wondered if his parents had ever felt that way toward each other. If so, he’d never witnessed it.