Mrs. Heatherington looked up at him over her glasses. “But you aren’t going to love her?”
It was obvious what she was asking, and yet such things weren’t spoken of, not in polite society, not with a respectable woman like Mrs. Heatherington. Then again, Luke wasn’t sure that asking someone to find him a wife was something a person did in polite society, either.
“With all due respect, ma’am, I think I understand what you’re asking. And let me assure you that I have no desire to have...” Luke paused and drew in a breath. “Any sort of...relations...with my new bride. Our marriage is to be in name only.”
And yet his words only served to make the woman stare at him like he was a criminal.
“Just what exactly do you think you’re offering? What would induce any woman to marry a man who only wants her to be a housekeeper or nanny without pay, and without the benefit of someone to love her? Someone to care about her?”
Luke shifted uneasily as she rose from her chair yet again.
“Please, ma’am. I just thought that maybe there was a woman out there, someone who doesn’t have all those romantic notions. A widow, maybe. Someone who needs a good home, children to raise. Women dream of that, don’t they?”
He looked at her, hoping she could see the earnest desire in his heart to find a situation that would work for not just him, but for a woman who wanted a similar situation.
“Women dream of being loved, Mr. Jeffries. They dream of being more than someone’s domestic servant.”
Shaking his head, he said slowly, “I don’t intend for her to be my servant. We’d be partners. Working together for the good of our family.”
Mrs. Heatherington glared at him.
“This isn’t just about me. My children need a good woman to guide them. My daughter Ruby, she’s...” Luke hesitated, trying to find polite words to describe the situation he found himself in. “Things are changing in her, and she needs a woman to help her.”
Once again, he stared at the floor, anything to avoid meeting the gaze of the woman who stood on the other side of the desk, judging him. Making him wish he hadn’t seen the ad in the paper promising to find men good wives. Easier than Taking a Mail-Order-Bride Ad Yourself, it claimed. We Do the Work for You. And since he’d tried finding a mail-order bride, with no answers to his ads, this seemed to be his last option.
“Surely a woman from your church could discuss those things with your daughter,” Mrs. Heatherington said kindly. “I understand it would be difficult for a man, but—”
“I won’t have anything to do with the church,” Luke said, his attention snapping back up at her. “That’s the whole reason we’re in this mess. As far I’m concerned, the church killed my wife. Even if they could help, I wouldn’t take it.”
With a pang, Luke thought of the many meals the ladies had brought over for his family when Diana had been killed. He hadn’t wanted to take them, hadn’t wanted to eat the food, but the children had been so hungry, and Luke’s efforts at preparing anything edible hadn’t gone over well. Every bite had made him feel sick, and he’d been grateful when ten-year-old Ruby had calmly told him that her mother had taught her to prepare some basic things, and she’d taken over the cooking.
But it wasn’t Ruby’s place to prepare the meals, do her mother’s chores and take care of her siblings. Especially now that the woman Luke had hired to watch Maeve, the youngest, who wasn’t yet in school, had quit. Maureen’s note to him saying she was leaving had somehow gone awry, and Luke found out that Ruby was skipping school to do the job herself. She deserved to have her childhood back, which was one more reason Luke had to find a wife. Clearly hired help couldn’t be counted on, and Luke still didn’t understand how it had taken him nearly a week to find out that Ruby had taken over. Since then, he’d relied on the generosity of neighbors, but Luke had to find a more permanent solution. It didn’t feel right to take a wife not six months after Diana’s death, but Luke was out of options.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeffries. I can’t help you,” Mrs. Heatherington said, coming around to the side of her desk. “We are a Christian organization, and it’s my obligation to bring together men and women of faith to create a loving home.”
She shook her head as she looked at him with sympathy. “I am truly sorry for your loss, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to have lost a wife, and for your children to not have a mother. But this goes against everything I believe in. Too many women come out here as part of mail-order-bride schemes, thinking they’re going to end up with a wonderful life. All too often, they end up in terrible situations, some even being sold to houses of ill repute.”
“I would never—”
Mrs. Heatherington shook her head slowly. “Perhaps not. But what happens to this bride of yours when the children are grown and you have no need of free labor? Or one of you realizes that you do, in fact, need someone to love in your life?”
Before Luke could answer, a voice called out from behind him. “I’ll do it.”
Luke turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. Though her clothes seemed to have once been of fine quality, they were now threadbare and worn. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a simple yet elegant style, and she bore herself like a lady of means. The lines at the corners of her deep brown eyes indicated a weariness of the world matching his own. Yet her face seemed to have a strength to it that said she was not going to let any of her hardships get her down.
“And you are?” Mrs. Heatherington stepped past him to approach the woman.
“Nellie McClain,” she said, entering the room. “I’ve come to see if you’d find me a husband.”
Nellie looked around the room, then her gaze settled on Luke. “He’ll do just fine.”
He’ll do just fine. Not exactly the words of love and devotion one would expect to come from a bride, but Luke wasn’t looking for love and devotion. Still, he knew nothing of this woman, and it seemed odd that she’d jump right in and offer to marry him.
“But you know nothing about him,” Mrs. Heatherington said. “And we haven’t... That is to say, I don’t know who you are, and we haven’t gone through the interview process.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You won’t help him, but I can.”
“What do you mean, you can?” Luke said.
“I need a husband,” she said, turning her attention to him. “Based on what you said, I think you’re exactly what I’m looking for. I don’t want a man to make promises with his fancy words. I don’t want some notion of romance. All I want is someone who is decent, hardworking, and knows how to treat people right. I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but based on what I heard in here, it seems to me that you have the qualities I seek.”
Her words might not sound like what a man hoped to hear from a prospective bride. But they were music to Luke’s ears, given that it seemed like they wanted the same thing.
“But what of love?” Mrs. Heatherington asked. “You seem like a nice young lady. Surely you want better for yourself.”
“With all due respect,” Nellie said, “I’m a widow. I know what it’s like to marry over some foolish notion like what a person thinks might be love. A woman like me needs nothing more than the protection of a good man and a family to care for. To be able to raise children is a pleasure I dared not hope for, but I would be extremely grateful for the opportunity.”
She stepped farther into the room and looked at Luke, and for the first time, he was able to examine her features and see that while it was easy to mistake her for a young lady in the marriage mart, her bearing bore the strain of someone who had seen far too much pain in so short a life. A widow. This woman knew what it was like to love and lose, and it was obvious she wasn’t willing to take the risk again. A perfect match for him.
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