Sherri Shackelford - Mail-Order Christmas Baby

Sterling’s back was turned, preventing her from gauging his expression. He rubbed the nape of his neck.

“I misspoke before,” he declared.

A sudden uneasy feeling seized her. “About what?”

He turned.

“Top two.” His grin was crooked and achingly enduring. “I’m definitely in the top two most eligible bachelors.”

She nearly sagged with relief. The serious side of him was gone, and he’d transformed back into the Sterling she knew and understood. He was once again the charming rogue with the ready smile.

Gracie grinned at their shared laughter, wanting in on the joke, and Heather hugged her close. She knew what it felt like to be alone. No one had ever wanted her, not really, not since her ma had passed. Her pa had left her with her aunt and uncle after the war because she was a girl. He’d told her as much when he’d packed her trunks. If you were a boy, I’d keep you, but a girl needs a woman to raise her.

Her aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted her. Even Dillon hadn’t wanted her. Only Gracie had embraced her love with innocent abandon.

Sterling was only grudgingly conceding because he’d been trapped by circumstance.

Her heart did a curious little flip. When he’d arrived at the church, she’d nearly tossed her plan to the wind. In his work clothing he was handsome; in his Sunday suit he was devastatingly so. She had an uneasy premonition she’d been thrown together with the one man who could break her heart, which meant extra vigilance was in order. Love was serious business, but as long as he stayed the same carefree man who made her laugh, they’d do fine together.

She’d made a solemn vow that Gracie would never feel unwanted, and she meant to keep that vow, no matter the personal cost.

“We won’t disrupt your life,” she vowed. “I promise.”

“I don’t know, Heather.” His tone indicated he was teasing. “Maybe I’ll disrupt yours.”

“Never.”

* * *

“For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health...” The reverend droned on and the ceremony was quickly concluded. There’d been no exchange of rings, and only a few curious onlookers had returned for the service. Only Irene and the ranch hands had been there to truly support the couple.

They’d both repeated the words as though in a daze. Irene and her husband had signed the witness book and offered them coffee, which they’d politely declined. There was no moon that evening, and traveling in the dark was dangerous. Instead they’d left the ranch hands in town while they fetched Heather’s belongings.

All of her worldly possessions fit neatly into the back of the wagon, with plenty of room to spare. Sterling lifted the backboard into place and secured the latch. Though there hadn’t been much to move, he’d worked up a sweat. He raised his arm above his head and swiped his forehead against his shoulder.

“That everything?” he asked.

“That’s everything,” she replied from the doorway. “I’ll close up and be right out.”

“Best be quick.”

“I will.”

He didn’t need to check his pocket watch to know they didn’t have much daylight left.

The fabric roses Mrs. Carlyle had hastily pinned to his lapel sagged, and he stuffed the decoration in his pocket. Guilt gnawed at his gut. He hadn’t put up much of a fight against marrying Heather considering her past relationship with his brother, and he didn’t have as many regrets as he probably ought to.

His anger sparked, the heat directed solely at his brother. If Dillon had returned for their pa’s funeral instead of trying to manage the entire Western frontier with his own two hands, he’d have been here for this fiasco. There was a pretty strong possibility the Blackwell name had been attached to Gracie as a matter of convenience rather than design. Any Blackwell would do, and Heather had gotten her second choice in husbands, no matter how much she denied her feelings for Dillon.

He’d never know what might have happened if he hadn’t interfered, and the unknown haunted him. A part of him feared he was living another man’s future. Heather hadn’t chosen him, she’d been stuck with him.

Heather appeared a moment later with Gracie perched on her hip. After securing the door, she made her way to the wagon. “I’m going to miss this place.”

Sterling couldn’t imagine why. The old one-room schoolhouse sat at the edge of town, a relic of Valentine’s history. Though the population had surged during the gold rush, the town had never needed more than one school until a few years before. And then once the boom had busted, the town floundered. His pa had formed a town council, and they’d enticed a flour mill onto the banks of the river. A bakery had followed, along with a café and a second dry goods store. Families had soon filled the town. Despite the loss of gold, the population had surged back to over a thousand.

The wood buildings along Main Street had been replaced with brick, and a gazebo had been erected in the town square. The old schoolhouse had remained, catering mostly to the farm children whose families preferred the old way of doing things. Heather’s lodgings had consisted of a single room addition with a potbellied stove for warmth and cooking.

She anchored her hat with one hand and tipped back her head, gazing somewhat wistfully at the bell housing. “Mrs. Lane has promised to finish out the school year. The students probably won’t even remember me come next fall.”

“Is there anyone we should notify about your move?” he asked. “Besides the postmaster.”

“No. No one.”

A jolt of realization kicked him in the gut. The children and that one-room addition were everything she had in the world, and she was leaving it all behind for Gracie. She had no family in town, no family anywhere as far as he knew. She was entirely alone in the world.

The idea was sobering. He’d always had family around in one form or another. Even without his parents, he’d had Dillon. His ma had family back East, though she’d rarely gone back to visit.

“Mrs. Lane will do right by the students until another teacher is hired,” he said. “I didn’t think she’d ever retire in the first place. The town council was surprised when you applied. It’s not as easy luring people out West like it was in the old days.”

Her smile was tinged with sorrow. “You’re too young to remember the old days.”

“Otto talks my ear off. I feel like I lived through the war between the states twice.” Her soft laughter chased away the sadness and warmed his heart. “We’d best go.”

“I’m sure your men are impatient. They’ve been trapped in town all day.”

“They aren’t complaining.” A lengthy visit to town without the promise of chores waiting was a rare treat.

Grace tugged on Heather’s bonnet. “Ga!”

“Even Grace is impatient,” Sterling said.

“We’ve gotten to know each other quite well over the past week, haven’t we, darling?”

Grace wrapped her arms around Heather’s neck and hugged her.

Their obvious affection for each other left him feeling like an unwanted interloper. The two had grown remarkably attached in a short period of time. The difference a few days had made was astonishing. Heather wasn’t nearly as nervous and skittish with the child as she’d been that first day in the church.

Though Sterling kept his own counsel, Grace’s anonymous past sat heavy on his soul, and the mystery surrounding her arrival left him uneasy. He’d never been comfortable with the unknown. Mysteries had a way of unraveling at the most inopportune moments. There was always a chance someone might come for the child. And while whoever had abandoned Grace had plenty of explaining to do, Sterling didn’t know who the law would side with if that person returned.