Danica Favorite - Mistletoe Mommy

For a moment, Nellie looked at him, unsure what to make of the twinkle in his blue eyes. “What do you mean by not much of a housekeeper? My late husband was most particular, and I—”

Nellie gave an involuntary shudder, hating the memories that came to her, unbidden.

Luke leaned forward and placed his hands over hers. “We’ll come to an agreement, don’t you worry. I learned to do the dishes Diana left in the sink because she’d gotten carried away with visiting her friends, and I imagine if you can’t do things to my liking, I can do it myself. That’s what marriage is about. Finding ways to compromise and figuring out what’s most important.”

He gave her hands a squeeze, then leaned back in his chair. “The world didn’t end because the dishes didn’t get done in a timely manner. And now that Diana’s gone, I’m grateful her friends got that extra time with her. When you lose someone you love, you figure out that the battle you thought worth fighting shouldn’t have been fought at all. I’d do the dishes every single day if it meant having her back.”

With a slight shake of his head, Luke continued. “No disrespect to you, of course. I’m just saying that you don’t have to bend over backward to please me. All I ask is you do your best, and I promise to do the same for you.”

Tears filled Nellie’s eyes. She’d thought herself immune to a man’s sweet words. But these words held a different kind of sweetness—the hope that not all men were monsters. And perhaps even an answer to all the prayers she’d said on this journey. That she’d find someone who would be kind to her.

Chapter Two

When they’d finished their meal, Luke escorted Nellie across town to the hotel where she’d been staying. Because she was a woman traveling alone, the respectable establishments had turned her away. Too many women of ill repute came under the guise of being a widow. Luke glanced at Nellie as she avoided a puddle. He couldn’t imagine anyone thinking so poorly of her, a genteel woman who’d clearly hit on hard times. The place she’d found was not in the best part of town, and Luke would feel better having her in his own hotel—in separate rooms, of course.

Though their conversation over dinner had turned to easier topics, Luke couldn’t get Nellie’s earlier reactions out of his head. She acted almost afraid, like she thought he might hurt her. He’d answered her questions about the house and the children, his expectations thereof. Almost like a job interview. But not.

Underlying it all was the tension of knowing he would be married to this woman, sharing his life with her. He and Diana had not spoken of these things prior to marriage. They’d flirted, talked about the weather, and when her parents weren’t looking, stolen a few kisses.

In his head, he’d firmly told himself he would not be kissing Nellie McClain. But every once in a while, he found his mind drifting.

Like now. Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? I got distracted.”

“I was asking how you discipline the children.”

Luke followed her gaze to the entrance of a store, where a mother stood, scolding her child harshly. Even at a distance, Luke could see the fury in the woman’s eyes, her face red, as the child practically cowered before her. The little boy looked to be slightly older than his youngest, Maeve, and he seemed too young to have done anything so terrible.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hadn’t given his expectations of discipline much thought, but now that Nellie was asking, he realized he should have. How could he have thought to bring a woman into their lives without knowing how she’d treat them?

“I know conventional wisdom is that to spare the rod is to spoil the child, but I don’t believe in striking a child. I don’t know what that child did, and it’s not my place to judge, so perhaps I shouldn’t say anything, but I prefer to use other methods with my own children.” He glanced in the direction of the mother and child as they continued on their way.

Nellie nodded. “I agree with you on that. Corporal punishment only serves to create fear, and I wish for the children to learn about love.”

Clearly they agreed on parenting, but the tone in Nellie’s voice made Luke wonder if there wasn’t more to her words than what she was saying. Once again, Luke found himself wanting to ask Nellie more personal questions, to learn about this fear that seemed to be lurking underneath. Because she was afraid. What had her husband been like? Something deep inside Luke told him that he’d hurt her. Badly.

“You never said—how did your husband die?”

He watched as Nellie drew in a breath that caused her shoulders to shake slightly. How easily he’d strayed to a personal subject, even though he’d been doing his best not to.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

She shook her head. “It’s all right. If we’re to be married, we should be able to answer one another’s questions.”

Looking as though she had to steel herself for the topic, Nellie straightened. “He was shot in a saloon for cheating at cards.”

What kind of man would do that to his wife? Luke’s stomach churned. “That must have been difficult for you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m not,” Nellie said quietly. “I didn’t approve of his lifestyle, and it caused me nothing but grief. Which is why I apologize if any of my questions seem impertinent, but had I known certain things about Ernest beforehand, I would have never married him.”

None of the reasons Luke previously had for wanting to marry Nellie seemed to matter now. Next to him was a deeply wounded woman, and his heart cried out for her. He wanted to help her. To heal her. He couldn’t give her his love, no, that would be too much for him. But he would show her that the things she hinted at, the things that lay beneath the surface of every line on her face, they were not true of every man.

“You can ask me all you want. I promise to give honest answers.” Luke sighed. “Though I suppose if your late husband cheated at cards, you probably have no reason to believe me.”

A tiny smile turned the corners of Nellie’s lips. “I’ve gotten good at telling when a man is lying. And I believe you.”

“Thank you.” Luke wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but it felt good to know Nellie believed him.

“Might I ask how your wife died?”

He should have expected the question, but her words were like a shotgun blast to the chest.

Fighting the nausea that always came when he spoke of it, Luke took a deep breath as he looked at Nellie.

“She was serving with the church ministry to the miners. There was an explosion at the mine, and she was killed by falling rocks.” He shook his head, trying to banish the image of his wife’s lifeless body.

Nellie gave his arm a squeeze. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I heard you say at Mrs. Heatherington’s that you are angry with the church because of her death. I can understand why.”

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be bitter, but it’s hard. And it’s even harder walking through those doors and having everyone try to make up for something that can never be replaced. They say what I suppose are all the right things, but nothing can be said to erase the pain in my heart. All their words about God’s love—if God loved us so much, why would He have taken her from us?”

His voice shook as it always did when he spoke of Diana’s death, and Luke looked away, but Nellie held his arm tight. Hopefully she wouldn’t question him further on the topic or try to convince him that he needed to let go of his grief. People didn’t understand. He couldn’t... He just couldn’t.

It seemed wrong to talk about his late wife to the woman who would soon be his next wife. Especially when he knew that he would never be able to share the kind of love with Nellie that he had once had with Diana.