Jodi Thomas: To Wed In Texas

“What?” Karlee tried to see his face in the darkness.

“Stay,” he said. “Help me protect the twins, Karlee.”

“Say it again.” She closed her eyes so that all her energy could concentrate on listening.

“Stay, Karlee,” he repeated. “Stay with me.”

KARLEE FELT SUDDENLY SHY AS SHE FOLLOWED Daniel up the stairs. He carried her huge trunk as if it were no more than a carpetbag. He didn't fit the mold of what she thought a preacher should look like. Maybe it was his size, or the quiet air about him, but she'd never have guessed him a reverend.

At the small second floor landing, he turned left and entered the first door. “The twins' room is larger and has a small bed in it where Willow always slept, but I thought you'd like the privacy of your own room.”

Karlee set the lantern down on a small chest of drawers. He hadn't lied, the room was small yet neat and clean. Through the window, she could see a barn in the back and a garden plot, newly plowed, waiting for spring. Everything about the house was plain and simple as though it had been built only a short time before. A house to look like a home, she thought-walls, white paint, a porch-but something was missing. Somehow this little place with its square rooms and blank walls was not a home.

Daniel put the trunk down at the foot of the bed. “I've only been living here a few months.” He seemed to have read her mind. “The house came with my assignment to the church. The preacher who came before me was killed and his mother should have gotten the house, but she disappeared. After a few months they passed it along to me.”

“Before that I lived with a farm family outside of town and rode a circuit to preach every Sunday.” He glanced around as though it were the first time he'd been in the room. “I hope you have everything you'll need up here.”

“Thank you, I'll be fine.” She tried to hide the awkwardness of the moment by straightening the lacetrimmed pillows on the bed.

“Main Street is only a few blocks from here.” He moved closer to the window. “Willow always walked with the twins, but if you like, I'll hitch the wagon before I leave each morning. I'll tell the bank and all the merchants Monday that you're to charge whatever you need to my account.” He hesitated, as though choosing his words carefully. “The climate is warmer here. You may want to buy a few new dresses.”

Karlee looked at her threadworn “best” dress. She couldn't remember ever having had a new dress. It had taken great skill to cut this one down to fit her after Aunt Violet tired of it.

When she didn't say anything, Daniel paced in front of the window, making the room seem smaller. “Charge the things you need to me, but I'll have the bank open an account in your name. I'll deposit ten dollars a month. You'll need your own funds.”

She was speechless. No one had ever offered to pay her. Most thought just giving her a roof over her head should be payment enough. Except for the times she traveled, she'd never had any money.

He frowned at her. “That might not be enough. I was just guessing.”

“No!” Karlee answered. “It's very generous. I read somewhere the cowhands make that a month in Texas.” In truth, she'd read everything she could get her hands on about Texas.

“Corralling longhorns may be easier than keeping up with the twins,” Daniel guessed. “But it's your money to use or save as you choose. I'll pay for anything you need while you're here.”

On impulse, Karlee closed the distance between them and hugged him lightly, placing her cheek against his for the briefest of moments.

The muscles in his arms tightened beneath her fingertips. A twitch along his square jaw line reacted to her touch. He stepped backward so fast he almost toppled over the trunk.

Karlee froze. She'd done something wrong. She'd been too personal. Should she apologize? Should she try to explain? How could she take back her action? They might have touched in the darkness when he'd comforted her, but this was in the light, and in her bedroom.

She wished desperately she were alone. Then she could dig into her trunk and find one of her favorite books. She could lose herself in a story and no longer have to worry about doing the proper thing. In her stories, the characters knew what to say and do. In real life, when Karlee didn't show affection, the aunts had accused her of being cold and heartless. When she did, they'd laughed at her and called her childish.

“I'm sorry.” She steeled herself to face the consequences of her action.

“No.” Daniel held up a hand. “It's not your fault.” He glanced at the window as though wishing for an escape. “I'm not used to anyone hugging me.”

“It won't happen again,” Karlee promised.

“You did nothing wrong.” Daniel took a deep breath. “I think it quite normal that people living under the same roof would occasionally touch. In a proper way, of course.”

Karlee watched him closely. “Of course,” she whispered. He was justifying her action, letting her get away without criticism. He wasn't going to make fun of her.

“We have to figure out how to make this arrangement work.” His words were painstakingly slow. “I've had no woman in my house since my wife died. I want no woman in my life now. I only want someone to care for the twins, nothing more. There are things I must do here, times I'll be away.”

“I understand.” Karlee felt the room suddenly grow warmer. “I didn't come here, Reverend McLain, for any purpose other than the children.” How could he think she'd been making an advance? She'd never done anything like that in her life. Even when she'd thought of it a few times with young men, her aunts had lectured her in shifts for hours.

A proper young lady never flirts, she'd been drilled. The lesson always ended with a list of reasons no man would ever look her way. After all, she had no family, no money and no land. She was taller than almost every man she met, a trait no husband would want, not to mention the curse of her red hair.

“Well, good night.”

He looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt.

She raised her head with another idea. “Maybe we should shake hands on our bargain?… to keep everything proper.”

Daniel offered his hand. “I like that idea, Spinster Whitworth.”

Karlee placed her hand in his. “To working together, Reverend McLain.”

He held her fingers for only a moment then turned and vanished from the room.

She remained still until she heard his footsteps end at the bottom of the stairs, then unpacked. Within minutes, the room was hers. Hers! She'd placed a coverlet her mother hand quilted across her bed and, for lack of a shelf, lined her books up along the windowsill. A jewelry box with a broken lid held handkerchiefs atop the chest. Her few clothes fit easily into the drawers. And her hatbox filled with yellowed letters was shoved beneath her bed.

Slipping into a nightgown almost twice her size, she quickly crawled beneath the covers. Monday, if she lasted that long, she'd buy a nightgown and ship this one back to Aunt Rosy. Her aunt had made such a production of giving it to her when Karlee packed, as if it were a great sacrifice and Karlee hadn't known that it was really her oldest gown.

She'd also select material for a new dress on Monday. And scraps, if the stores in Texas had scrap barrels. She'd make her dress and the twins each a cloth doll with button eyes. She might not be able to cook, but she could sew. It would be a delight to make a dress from clean, new material.

Karlee closed her eyes, smiling into the darkness. At the end of the month, if she lasted that long, she'd use just a few cents of her own money to buy a comb for her hair. A real comb, not just pins. She'd save the rest of the money, for in thirty days she'd no longer be penniless. She'd be a woman of means.