The Unexpected Bride Read online

Page 9


  They lugged the pillows and colorful quilts outside to hang on the clothesline, working in silence for the most part. When they were done, Elthia moved to reenter the house, but Mr. Tanner stopped her. “Why don’t I give you a tour of the place?”

  Elthia wasn’t fooled into thinking he wanted the pleasure of her company. He’d made it quite clear from the outset she wasn’t the sort of woman he was apt to admire. And even though she’d caught him watching her several times this morning, she was sure it was prompted by curiosity more than anything else.

  She supposed that also explained why he was deliberately trying to keep her by his side. He was probably curious about what sort of partner he’d saddled himself with. Or was he afraid she’d try to run away if he let her out of his sight?

  Not that it really mattered. It was a beautiful morning, and she wasn’t opposed to spending part of it in the sunshine.

  He offered her his arm, and she took it. He flashed another of those crooked smiles, and she decided she’d have to be careful—the man had more charm than she’d first given him credit for.

  “Thought you might enjoy getting a look at the barn and barnyard in full daylight. But only if you promise not to throw anything at me.”

  Elthia decided his charm wouldn’t be much of a problem after all. Tilting her chin, she gave him her haughtiest look. “Agreed. So long as you don’t give me cause to.”

  His half smile surprised her. It seemed he had a sense of humor under that sometime gruff exterior.

  He took her around the barn and animal pens. She discovered that, in addition to horses, the livestock included cows, chickens, pigs, and rabbits. Elthia, who’d never been around farm animals much, did her best not to be obvious as she wrinkled her nose against the smells or watched her step in the barnyard. But she could tell she hadn’t fooled her tour guide. Even worse, he seemed amused by her discomfiture. At least he refrained from comment.

  Things went a little better in the carriage house. It was attached to the barn and housed garden tools as well as a buckboard and buggy. She noted with interest that everything was kept neat and well organized.

  As they left the carriage house, Alex came up. Trapped in his hands was a feebly struggling, anxiously chirping bird.

  Mr. Tanner’s forehead furrowed. “What do we have here?”

  Alex lifted his hands higher. “A robin. It’s got a hurt wing and can’t fly.”

  “Let me have a look.” Mr. Tanner gently stretched the bird’s wing and was rewarded for his efforts by an almost successful peck on the hand. “Looks like it’s been mauled. Probably let one of the barn cats get a bit too close.”

  Alex’s brow furrowed. “Will it heal? Should I bandage it?”

  “It should be okay in a few days.” Mr. Tanner straightened. “And no, I don’t think bandages would help. Just keep him out of harm’s way until he can fly again. I suggest the bathhouse.”

  “Yes, sir.” Alex gave his uncle a broad, relieved smile. “I’ll get some old rags to make him a nest right now. And I’ll find some bugs to feed him a couple of times a day.”

  Elthia studied Mr. Tanner as he watched Alex walk away. It wasn’t an act or even just a duty—he really was fond of the children.

  As they moved back toward the house, she spied another outbuilding tucked under the shade of an enormous oak.

  “What’s that?”

  He didn’t even glance in the direction she’d pointed, just kept walking toward the house. “Just my workshop.”

  There was something about his tone that caught her attention. Goodness, she didn’t even know what he did for a living. She stopped, forcing him to halt also. “What sort of workshop?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression saying clearly this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. “Woodworking.”

  She beamed at him. “You’re an artisan! How fascinating.”

  But he shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I make furniture, that’s all. Don’t make me into anything fancy.”

  “Oh.” Did he have to be so deliberately rude? But she was determined to learn more. “What kind of furniture do you make?”

  He shrugged. “Whatnot tables, rockers, ladder-back chairs. Whatever people will pay me for.”

  Was he embarrassed? Were his skills only so-so? She refused to be put off by his rudeness. She had a right to see how good a provider he’d be for the family. “Do you mind if I peek inside?”

  His chin jutted out mulishly, and she was certain he intended to tell her no. What was he hiding? Was it truly a woodworking shed or something less innocent? She’d heard there were moonshiners in these parts. If he was involved in something like that, she’d better learn about it now.

  She turned toward the building, pretending his permission was a given. “I envy you,” she said, making conversation to forestall any protests. “It must be a source of pride to be able to craft beautiful, useful things from raw materials.”

  He followed her, and she stiffened, feeling his belligerent glare prickling the back of her neck. But she didn’t stop until she’d reached the door. She flinched as he reached past her to grab the knob, then tried to cover her start with a bright smile.

  He stared at her for a long minute, and Elthia felt her pulse accelerate. He was going to refuse her. Why?

  Then he shrugged, turned the knob, and threw the door open.

  She took a deep breath and stepped past him, unsure of what she would find. The room smelled of sawdust, paint, and oils. It took a moment for her eyes to grow accustomed to the shadowy interior, but she could already tell this was just what he’d said it was, a woodcrafter’s workroom. So why the melodramatics?

  Just inside the door stood a simple ladder-back rocking chair. To her right she saw a long, narrow table, the perfect size for an entryway. These were really quite good! So why his hesitation?

  Then the other items in the room caught her attention, and Mr. Tanner’s strange behavior was forgotten.

  Rocking horses!

  There were at least a dozen of them in various stages of construction, all of them different, all of them a child’s delight. They ranged in size from one large enough to seat a child Peter’s size to one small enough for a toddler to hold.

  “Mr. Tanner, these are wonderful!”

  Elthia walked farther into the workshop, drawn to touch the charming creations. She set one of the larger toys in motion, smiling at its smooth dipping and rising. Then she drifted to the workbench and lifted a smaller piece. It had been painted in spare but telling detail. He’d given the horse a playful expression, as if it invited the holder to join in its fun.

  She could just hear a child’s delighted squeals upon being presented one of these. She looked around, noting other details to delight the eye and enchant the mind.

  More than just routine woodcrafter’s skill had gone into making these. She could see touches of whimsy and heart in them too. The person who’d crafted these toys understood children and childlike wonder.

  Mr. Tanner stood in the doorway, watching her with an unreadable expression. This man, this irascible, stubborn, have-his-own-way-at-all-costs man had made these wonderful toys?

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s something I do to fill in between orders for the furniture pieces. A toy shop in St. Louis has a standing order for as many as I can turn out.”

  Elthia looked around her again. “I can see why. You’re quite talented.”

  Suddenly she felt better about the bargain she’d struck with him. After all, a man who would go to such trouble to see to the welfare of orphaned children, who would rush to Poppy’s rescue, and who made his living carving children’s toys, was a man with a good heart, regardless of his temperament.

  Caleb made an excuse to hurry her out of his workshop. Nosy woman! He shouldn’t have let her inside. The workshop was his private domain. And for someone who hadn’t wanted anything to do with him a few hours ago, she sure was doing a lot of digging into his
personal life. Hang it all, she was the one who insisted that their relationship be more of a business partnership than a marriage.

  Which was okay with him. As he’d told her more than once, he only required that she give the children the attention and care they needed. He certainly hadn’t been looking for any romantic entanglements.

  He refused to be moved by her enthusiastic appreciation of his work. And he definitely wasn’t affected by the soft smile she’d flashed him as they left the workshop, no matter how much his traitorous body argued to the contrary. He didn’t need her approval, just her cooperation.

  Again, her job was to see to the kids, not him. The sooner she learned that, the better.

  For both of them.

  CHAPTER 8

  By late afternoon, Elthia decided she’d been mistaken. Mr. Tanner obviously had no other redeeming qualities.

  Nothing she’d done since leaving the workshop had met with his approval. She’d tried to help set the table for the noon meal, and he’d explained to her in exhausting detail just what she was doing wrong. How was she supposed to know the speckled blue mug was Josie’s favorite or that Keith and Kevin had to have identical settings? When she tried to help clean up, he’d hovered about, making her so nervous with his “helpful advice” she’d finally dropped a plate, breaking it into a dozen pieces.

  Finally, she excused herself to take a nap, just to get away from him for a while. Besides, due to her early rising, she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. She really was tired.

  But sleep eluded her. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, she decided she’d spend her time doing something useful. Like drawing up that new contract for her and Mr. Tanner to sign.

  A half dozen wasted pages later, Elthia had a draft she hoped would be acceptable to both parties. She read it over once more.

  I, Caleb Tanner, enter into marriage with Elthia Sinclare for the sole purpose of providing a mother for the six children in my care. I agree that I will not exercise any privilege normally considered the right of a husband, other than that which she willingly grants to me. At such time as a final decision is reached on my petition to adopt the children, I will support Miss Sinclare’s efforts to seek an annulment of this marriage.

  Here she left space for his signature and a date. Then she continued with her half of the agreement.

  I, Elthia Sinclare, enter into marriage with Caleb Tanner for the purpose of seeing to the welfare of the six children in his care. During the time I am partnered with Mr. Tanner, I will care for the children of his household as if I were their natural mother. I will not knowingly take any action that is contrary to their best interests. At such time as a final decision is reached on Mr. Tanner’s petition to adopt the children, I will have fully executed my obligation and may seek an annulment with the expectation of Mr. Tanner’s full cooperation and support.

  Yes, that spelled it out quite clearly. Now it was time to see if Mr. Tanner was willing to sign it as promised.

  As Elthia stood, she was assailed by thoughts she’d held at bay all day, thoughts of this devil’s bargain she’d made. What a miserable way to enter into marriage. Instead of hopes and dreams for a blissful future, they were going to walk down the aisle with plans to dissolve the union once they’d accomplished their noble but somewhat devious goal.

  She was such a spineless ninny. If she planned to go along with this scheme, she should have had the courage to commit to a true marriage, not this shameful deception. But, aside from the fact that he was a stranger, something inside her rebelled at the thought of spending her life with a man who had settled on her because he had no other choice.

  What would it be like to have a man desire her, feel passion and love for her? Elthia held back her tears, fiercely chastising herself for indulging in such maudlin thoughts. After all, she’d come to terms with the specter of spinsterhood before she ever set foot in Texas.

  Or at least she thought she had.

  Regaining control, she drew back her shoulders and set out to find Mr. Tanner.

  Caleb looked up from his workbench as he heard the kitchen door open and close. It was a sound he’d been listening for this past hour. Through the open door of his workshop he could see Lady Privilege determinedly marching his way. Was she going to try to tell him again how impossible the whole situation was?

  Caleb hastily gazed back down at his work as she drew near.

  She stopped just outside the open door, knocking on the jamb. “Mr. Tanner, may I come in please? I need to speak to you.”

  He looked up as if just noticing her. “Of course.” He set down his file and dusted off a chair for her. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

  She sat, eyeing him as if wary of his solicitousness. “Actually, I spent most of my time working on this.” She held up a piece of paper. “It’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  Caleb’s brows drew down. “If that’s the contract again, I thought we’d already—”

  “No, no.” She raised a hand, cutting off his protests. “At least not the Pembroke contract.”

  Sitting again, Caleb frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  She straightened, her cheeks turning rosy. “This morning, when I agreed to your proposal, I stipulated that we sign a new contract before we wed. I took the liberty of drafting it up myself. I’d like you to look it over and then sign it please.” She extended her arm stiffly, offering him the document.

  Blast! He’d forgotten that little detail.

  Caleb took the document and read it slowly, stalling for time. If he signed this and handed it back to her, she’d have a potent weapon to use against him. All she’d have to do is wave it under Judge Walter’s nose, and his chances of adopting the kids would fly out the window. How far could he trust her?

  He looked up, flashing her what he hoped was a friendly smile. “This all seems in order. But honestly, Miss Sinclare, do you really think it’s necessary?”

  She nodded firmly. “Oh yes, Mr. Tanner, I think it’s quite necessary. We agreed this would be a strictly business arrangement. That being so, I believe we should spell out the boundaries of our partnership in strictly business terms.”

  Caleb wasn’t ready to completely trust her when he had so much riding on this. Was she planning something underhanded?

  “Still,” he pressed, “the whole point of this arrangement is to give me a fighting chance to adopt the kids. What if this document mysteriously comes to the attention of the judge? It would quite nicely cut short your sentence as my wife.”

  “Mr. Tanner!”

  Her affront seemed genuine enough, but he would be the last one to claim the ability to read a woman’s mind. He smiled. “I thought we were leaving emotions out of this. I’m merely voicing a concern over your holding a trump card in our arrangement.”

  She compressed her lips, then nodded. “All right. But I have no intention of marrying you tomorrow unless you sign this. So how do we make you feel less threatened by the arrangement?”

  Caleb drew himself up. What was she implying? “See here, lady, I don’t feel a bit threatened by you or this paper. I just want to make sure I don’t hand you a noose to hang me with.”

  She raised a brow, as if to say he’d made her point for her.

  Caleb’s hand clenched tight enough to crumple the part of the document he held. Taking a deep breath, he deliberately relaxed his hold and handed the piece of paper back toward her. “Before I sign this thing, I want you to make one change.”

  She reached for the contract. “And that change is?”

  He leaned forward, catching a whiff of the fresh, flowery scent she wore. The feminine accent seemed so at odds with the no-nonsense, businesslike manner she was trying to project.

  Ignoring the unwanted distraction, he released the paper. “Add something to the effect that, regardless of what happens, you won’t work on an annulment before the three months are up.”

  Caleb could almost see her mind work as she sat back and pushed on
her glasses. He couldn’t help but admire her smarts, even if she did use them against him.

  Finally she nodded. “Very well, that seems acceptable. I’ll make the change, and then we can sign it later today.”

  “One more thing,” he added. He was still chafing over her suggestion that he’d felt threatened by her.

  She looked up suspiciously. “And that is?”

  “Part of our bargain was that we’d make sure it looked like this arrangement is something we both want.”

  She nodded. “Yes. And I plan to do my part.”

  “Then we should drop the formalities. You call me Caleb, and I’ll call you Elthia.”

  She shifted uneasily. “I suppose, when we’re in public—”

  He raised a hand, cutting off her words. “No. All the time. It needs to come naturally, like a habit.”

  Her lips thinned, but at last she nodded. “Very well.”

  He expected her to leave then, but she didn’t. Instead, she sat there, her gaze not quite meeting his. Absently she brushed some sawdust and wood shavings from the table onto the floor. Then she fidgeted with one of his chisels.

  What was bothering her now? “Well, Elthia,” he said, emphasizing her name. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  She took a deep breath and finally met his gaze again, though it seemed she forced herself. “I wanted to ask about the wedding, about what sort of plans you’ve made.”

  Caleb almost felt sorry for her. She’d no doubt had dreams of a big showy affair when the time came, with herself in a fairy-tale princess gown, standing next to a handsome, rich-boy groom, hundreds of guests to admire them, and a fancy reception afterward. Of course, she’d had her chance at all that and thumbed her nose at it.

  “The wedding will take place at the church in Foxberry tomorrow morning after the regular Sunday service. It’ll be a short, simple ceremony.”