Renee Ryan - Mistaken Bride

Pulling out the ledger he’d brought home with him from the mill, Will went to work. Despite the early hour, the air already felt hot and sticky and promised to turn unbearable once the sun was fully in the sky. He’d made the right decision to close the mill for the next two days. Grinding cocoa beans and turning them into blocks of chocolate was hot work on any given day. Deadly during a heat wave like this one.

Will was proud of the fact that the Huntley-Black Mill had a reputation for treating its workers well. He employed most of the residents of Faith Glen, including many of the Irish immigrants unable to find work elsewhere.

An unexpected image materialized in his head of the pretty Irish lass he’d met yesterday on the docks in Boston. Bridget Murphy had been beautiful and compassionate. But not his. His Bridget was dead.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead with his palm. The gesture did nothing to relieve the ache growing stronger behind his eyes.

He had to find someone to care for his children, a stable woman who wouldn’t leave them when boredom struck and then show up again when the round of parties ceased to amuse her. In other words, a woman nothing like their mother. At least in death Fanny had finally offered her children the consistency she’d denied them in life.

But her loss had still come at a cost to both Olivia and Caleb. They were far too subdued for their age. Will had never wanted perfect children in his home. He wanted happy children.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. He set down the quill and called out, “It’s open.”

The door creaked on its hinges and soon a head full of white-silver hair poked through the tiny opening.

“Well,” his mother said with a smile. “You’re up early.”

“No earlier than usual.”

“I suppose not.” She stepped deeper into the room, looking especially tired this morning with the dull light emphasizing the purple shadows under her eyes.

He’d intended to bring home his new bride last night, one who would take the burden off his mother and love his children as much as he did. A beautiful woman with wild, dark hair, mesmerizing green eyes, a soft Irish lilt and…

Wrong woman, Will. You’re thinking about the wrong woman.

He slammed the ledger shut. No more work today. Not for him, or his mother.

Rising, he shoved the chair out of his way and then circled around his desk. Everything in him softened as he caught sight of two small heads peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts.

He might have vowed never to love another woman after Fanny, but Olivia and Caleb were a different matter altogether. His love for his twins grew daily, his heart nearly bursting with emotion at times like this.

If only he could figure out a way to let them know they were allowed to be happy, playful. Even noisy and messy sometimes. He feared they followed too closely after his own sober, saddened behavior, and wished he knew how to bring some joy into their lives. And his own.

“I see we have more early risers.” He bent low enough to look into both children’s eyes. “Good morning, Olivia, Caleb.”

They each gave him a wobbly smile in return. Will hated these moments, when he couldn’t read his own children’s moods. Their three-year-old thoughts were impossible to decipher behind those solemn masks.

Nevertheless, he forged ahead. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison, their words filled with that polite tone he dreaded most.

Hoping to alleviate their shyness, Will opened his arms in silent appeal and went for the direct approach. “Can I have a morning hug?”

Caleb toed the ornate rug at his feet, his eyes huge and luminous. Olivia’s mouth slowly quirked into a sweet, tentative grin. A heartbeat later she rushed forward and flung her spindly arms around Will’s neck.

His throat tightened.

With Olivia tucked in close, he reached out and ruffled Caleb’s hair. The little boy lifted his chin, the look so full of adoration Will found himself struggling for his next breath. These two beautiful, perfect children were the best thing he’d done in his thirty years of life. He would not fail them.

Letting go of his shyness, Caleb launched himself into the air and landed on top of his sister, tumbling all three of them to the ground. Will shifted midair to soften the children’s fall. In the next moment the sweetest sound of all filled the air. Laughter. His children were laughing.

Will levered himself onto an elbow. Peace filled him as he watched his smiling, happy children. But he knew the moment wouldn’t last long. Far too soon they would grow somber again. His poor, innocent children had faced too much sorrow in their short lives, and here was the sad result. Even if they wanted to continue their moment of playfulness, they simply didn’t know how.

He couldn’t bear it. Not today. “What do you say we go on an outing, just the three of us?” Even Will was surprised at the words that had come out of his mouth. But then again, why not go on an outing? Maybe all three of them could use a lesson in having fun.

Both children froze, their mouths gaping open at him. Caleb was the first to speak. “Truly?”

Will confirmed it with a nod. “Truly.”

“Where?” the little boy asked. “Where will we go?”

“Well…” For a moment his mind went blank. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Olivia scrambled onto his lap. “Can we go to the store?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

The store? He’d had something a little more exciting in mind. Say, fishing. He hadn’t gone fishing in years. Maybe even a decade, before his father had died. “I was thinking about taking you down to the river to try some fishing.”

“Oh.” Olivia clasped her hands together and her tiny shoulders heaved with the force of her disappointment.

Not the reaction he’d hoped for. “You don’t want to go fishing, sweetheart?”

“I’ll go with you, Papa.” Caleb wiggled onto Will’s lap.

“Well, I suppose I could, too, if…” Olivia turned her big blue eyes in his direction, “I can get a new dolly first.”

Now her earlier suggestion to go to the store made sense. His daughter was mad about dolls.

“I think a new dolly is a definite possibility.” He wrapped his arms around the children, pulling each of them close against his chest. “And perhaps a toy ship for Caleb.”

Caleb gasped. “Truly?”

“Truly.” Will squeezed both sets of shoulders. “Now go get dressed and then we’ll leave.”

They sped out of the room, Caleb leading the way. Will smiled after them, pleased by their excitement. They so rarely showed enthusiasm since their mother left.

He clenched his jaw against a jolt of ugly emotion. He tried not to give in to his anger, anger he could just as easily turn inward. Fanny might have started this, with her selfish abandonment of her family, but Will hadn’t done enough to rectify the situation.

That changed today.

Chapter Five

Two. More. Days. Bridget thought she might go mad from the wait. She didn’t know what to do with herself. Rose of Rose’s Boardinghouse was friendly enough. She’d offered Bridget and Nora a place to stay until they discovered if Laird’s house was theirs free and clear. But sitting in someone else’s front parlor and sharing tea with a roomful of strangers, many also from Ireland, wasn’t how Bridget wanted to spend her first full day in America.

The decor didn’t help matters. The room was too ornate, the wallpaper too bold, the furniture too fragile. Taking tea in here, where she was afraid she might spill and ruin the brocade upholstery was—well, not something she wished to endure.

She decided to take a walk instead. She needed to be alone. To think. To plan. And, God forgive her, to worry. With their money running low, she and Nora would have to find jobs soon. But how many prospects were available in a town this size? Surely not many.