Noelle Marchand - The Texan's Inherited Family

“Not a thing.” He made sure to look the children in the eye as he said it. All the while, he tried to ignore the warmth spreading from Helen’s hand into his knee.

“Your uncle and I are going to be perfectly fine. We’ll be better than fine, actually, because we’re all going to be a family...if you’ll have me.”

Reservations gone, Clara gave Helen a hug including Trent out of necessity. “Of course we will.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “What do you say, Reece? Are you going to make your aunt feel welcome?”

“Yes, sir!” Reece’s enthusiasm was reflected in his grin.

“Trent?”

The silent boy gave a grave nod.

“Good. Now, let’s drop off Miss McKenna at the boardinghouse and get ourselves on home.” He set Olivia on her feet so that she could toddle toward the wagon with the other children. “Helen, I sure am sorry about how they responded at first.”

“It ended well and that’s all that matters.”

“I reckon you’re right.” He stood and reached down to help Helen to her feet. He made sure to release her as soon as she was steady. He’d told the children that there was nothing for them to worry about. There wouldn’t be so long as he remembered that he was marrying Helen to be his children’s mother—not his wife. That would be a whole lot easier if he kept his distance.

* * *

Helen waved goodbye to the Tuckers. Quinn tipped his hat and sent her a quick grin before leaving her behind on the sidewalk in front of the boardinghouse. She barely resisted the impulse to break into a jig right then and there. Wonder of wonders! She was getting married! Not to just anyone, but to Quinn Tucker—a man with a ready-made family. It felt as if she had wandered into her favorite daydream. She could only hope to be lost in it forever.

“Who was that?”

Helen yelped at the sound of Isabelle Bradley’s voice. She’d been staring after the Tuckers’ wagon so fixedly that she hadn’t heard her friend’s approach. “Where did you come from?”

“The post office.” Isabelle’s narrowed green eyes didn’t waver from the retreating wagon. “Was that Quinn Tucker? I heard he got a haircut, but goodness me who knew it would make such a difference. He actually had a face under all that wild hair and a handsome one at that! It was nice of him to drive you home. Violet told me about the school-board meeting. What happened?”

Helen leaned against the cold rod iron of the Bradley’s waist-high fence to push it open for her friend. “The other members of the board made Mr. Etheridge apologize.”

“Good for them.” Isabelle trotted up the porch steps and opened the door for Helen. “So does that mean you no longer have to worry about keeping your position?”

“Yes and no. I resigned.” She had time to place her schoolbooks on the front desk and her coat on the rack before Isabelle’s shock wore off.

“Why,” Isabelle began, extending that one word into several syllables, “did you do that?”

Helen shrugged. “You have to resign if you’re going to get married.”

Isabelle’s mouth dropped open then curved in an incredulous smile. “You’re getting married? To whom? When? Why do I never know about these things? Helen!”

She laughed. “Yes, I’m getting married. On Saturday, I think. You’re the first to know besides the school board and his children.”

“His children?” Isabelle’s eyes widened and flashed in the direction Quinn’s wagon had gone. “Quinn Tucker’s children?”

She nodded. “All four of them.”

“But, I didn’t even know the two of you were courting.”

“Well...” She leaned against the front desk, straightening the stack of books she’d brought home. “We didn’t court...exactly.”

Isabelle sat on the stool behind the desk. “What does that mean?”

Helen rolled her eyes. “It means we didn’t court at all, but it doesn’t matter. There will be plenty of time for that after we marry.”

“Well, then.” Isabelle lifted a brow. “Would it be safe to guess that this isn’t a love match?”

She shrugged. “It is in a way. I love his children.”

“But you don’t love him.”

“I could. I will...one day. I’m certain of it. He’s kind, Christian, hardworking—”

“—suddenly handsome—”

Helen laughed. “I was attracted to him even before the haircut and shave. Besides, he makes me feel...”

“He makes you feel...?”

Whole. He makes me forget that I’m a little bit damaged. She smiled and settled for, “Pretty.”

“You are pretty.”

“Thank you. Besides, what is love, anyway? It isn’t just a feeling. It’s a commitment. It’s endeavoring to understand and appreciate someone for who they are. Even if it was just a feeling, feelings are controllable.” She shrugged at Isabelle’s doubtful look. “Perhaps I come at it from a different perspective than most. You see, my parents had an arranged marriage and they love each other very deeply now. I don’t see why I should expect anything less.”

“What can I say to that? As long as you’re sure, Helen. I’ll support you.”

“I’m sure, and I’d like you to be my maid-of-honor.”

“I’d love that.”

Suddenly realizing that retrieving and sorting the mail was normally Amy’s job, Helen froze. “Oh, Isabelle, Violet told me about Amy. Have y’all had any more word from her?”

Isabelle shook her head. “Nothing as yet. Father has gone to search for them mostly to assure himself and Mother that Amy’s new situation is suitable—whatever that means. Mother seems hurt that one of her daughters would do such a thing—hide a relationship and then run off like that. Violet is all aflutter thinking she’s in an Austen novel or some such nonsense.”

“I never should have lent her my copy of Pride and Prejudice . All through dinner she explained to me the parallels between this situation and Lydia’s with Wickham. I believe Violet has convinced herself she’s Kitty.” She laughed at her friend’s grimace then regarded Isabelle seriously. “And how are you dealing with all of this?”

“To be honest, I’m more than a little annoyed with Amy, as much as I love her.” Isabelle sighed. “Amy’s elopement isn’t a problem for Amy. It’s a problem for me. My parents are determined not to make the same mistake twice, so I’ll be the one facing more restrictions and tougher discipline. In the meantime, I’m trying not to be offended by mother’s suspicious looks.”

“You really had no idea?”

“Amy didn’t confide in me on this one at all.” Isabelle shrugged. “What’s done is done. It’s a good reminder that each decision we make not only effects ourselves but may have unintended consequences in other’s lives. I suppose we just have to pray about our options, follow God’s leading and be ready to live with the consequences of our choices whether good or bad.”

“You have a good head on your shoulders, Isabelle. I’m sure your parents will recognize that once the excitement dies down.”

“I hope so.” Isabelle frowned as she went back to sorting the mail.

“I guess I’ll see you at supper.” Helen hurried from the foyer down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her, but couldn’t shut out the wisdom of Isabelle’s words.

Pray about our options...follow God’s leading...be ready to live with the consequences. She hadn’t prayed about the decision to marry Quinn. How could she have with everything happening so quickly? That didn’t mean she wasn’t following God’s leading. After all, how many times had she prayed for a husband and children of her own? Well, not that many because she hadn’t thought it possible. However, this was a blessing—an undeniable, pure, simple blessing. She’d be a fool not to run full speed toward it and Helen McKenna-soon-to-be-Tucker was no fool. She’d be more than happy to live with the consequences of her decision. They could only be good ones even if she didn’t know her husband very well yet. Or, have much experience running a home. She’d been a teacher for almost half of a semester. How much harder could it be to be a wife and mother?