Dorothy Clark - Wedded For The Baby

“Fleming. I am Miss Katherine Fleming from New York.”

He touched the brim of his hat, dipped his head. “Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Fleming, but I don’t understand, how—”

“I met Miss Susan Howard on the train. This is her baby.” Katherine Fleming took an unsteady breath, looked down at the tiny bundle then raised her gaze to meet his.

“And why do you have Miss Howard’s child?” He glanced at the passenger car, irritated by this woman’s interference. “Where is Miss Howard?”

“She passed away early this morning, Mr. Warren. They—they took her and her possessions from the train at the Laramie Station.”

“She’s passed away!” He jerked his gaze back to Katherine Fleming. Suspicion reared. Was this some sort of blackmail scheme? “Perhaps you would be good enough to explain the circumstances, Miss Fleming.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “That’s why I’m here, Mr. Warren.” The baby whimpered. She patted its back and swayed. “When I boarded the train, Miss Howard was very ill. I tended the baby and cared for Miss Howard as best I could, but her condition deteriorated. She—” Pink flowed into Katherine Fleming’s cheeks. She took a breath and looked full into his eyes. “When she knew her health was failing, Miss Howard told me the...conditions...of her baby’s birth, and that she was on her way to marry you because you had agreed to raise the baby as your own. She begged me to bring her baby to you. I promised to do so.” She took another breath and opened the purse dangling from her wrist. “I found this letter in the baby’s valise.” She held it up to him.

He took the letter, went taut. It was his last letter to Miss Howard.

“There is a note on the back.”

Miss Fleming’s voice broke. He glanced at her, saw the lamplight reflected by the shimmer of tears in her eyes and turned his letter over.

My name is Miss Susan Howard. I am ill, and without hope of recovery. The words struck the pit of his stomach like a hard-driven fist, froze the air in his lungs. He forced himself to read on, made himself concentrate on the details to calm the pulse pounding through his veins and roaring in his ears. He was the guardian of the child of a woman he’d never met! He folded the letter and slid it in his pocket to gain time to gather his shattered thoughts. Being an ex-doctor, he was accustomed to handling emergencies in a calm, deliberate manner, but this...this was beyond belief! He had a shop to run! What was he to do with an infant without a mother in a town where there was no woman available to hire as a nurse? Was this God’s retribution for his turning away from his faith when his wife and unborn child died? Was the agony of his loss coupled with his guilt at being unable to save them not enough punishment?

He shot a venomous look at the darkening sky, forced the stagnant air from his lungs then glanced at Katherine Fleming—Miss Katherine Fleming. A wild notion flickered. He grasped on to the idea like a drowning man seizes hold of the flimsiest lifeline. He knew enough about women’s clothing to know Miss Fleming’s velvet-trimmed gray tweed coat was stylish and well made; the button shoes poking out from beneath the long skirt were the same. And her hat was an expensive one. Clearly, Miss Fleming would not be swayed by the offer of a generous wage. He would have to appeal to her humanity. It was obvious she’d become attached to the infant in her arms.

He glanced down the tracks. The train was still taking on coal and water. But time was of the essence.

“I’ve kept my promise to Miss Howard, Mr. Warren. So if you will—”

“Please, Miss Fleming, if you would grant me a few minutes more of your time, I need to talk to you. My agreement with Miss Howard—”

“Had nothing to do with me, and is none of my business, sir.”

“I believe it is, Miss Fleming—because of the baby you hold.” He looked down into her violet eyes, suppressed a tingling reaction to their extraordinary beauty and pressed his case. “My marriage agreement with Miss Howard was a business one. She needed a name for her son and a comfortable home in which to raise him. I need a wife—any wife.” Those long-lashed, violet eyes widened, then narrowed. He rushed on before she could speak. “You see, I have signed a contract that states that if I am not married within six days from this date, I will lose my apothecary shop, my home and all I have invested in them. I am a widower, Miss Fleming. I am not interested in a personal relationship with any woman. Therefore, Miss Howard was to have been my wife in name only.” The words brought color flooding into her cheeks. She rose to her feet.

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Warren! I am not in the habit of—”

“Nor am I, Miss Fleming! But I have no choice in the matter. If I do not marry within six days, I and the infant you hold in your arms will be homeless. And, what is more, without my apothecary shop, I will have no means by which to support the child.”

“But surely there is some way—”

He shook his head and looked her straight in the eyes. “There is none. I have told you I am not interested in any form of personal relationship with a woman, Miss Fleming. Therefore, I am asking if you, in your concern for the baby, would be willing to enter into an in-name-only marriage with me.” Her gasp told him what she thought of his proposal. He rushed on. “It would be only temporary—until I can think of a way to save my shop and my home and make other arrangements for the baby’s care. You see, Whisper Creek is, as yet, only the beginning of a town. There are no women available for me to hire to care for the baby.”

Katherine Fleming was clearly shocked. She moved her mouth but no words came forth, only an odd sort of choking sound. He took a breath and laid out the rest of it before her. “There is one thing more. Should you agree to my business offer, we will have to act as newlyweds in front of others to keep Mr. Ferndale, the town founder and holder of my contract, from discovering the marriage is not a normal one.” His bitterness boiled over into anger. After two years of grief and loneliness that was the last thing he wanted to do with this far too attractive woman! He harked back to his doctor’s training, held his face impassive. “In private, you will have your own well-furnished bedroom with unlimited access to the rest of the house as you choose. The house has every modern convenience. And, of course, I’ll pay you a wage for your services as nurse to the baby.”

* * *

Katherine sank back onto the bench, too stunned to speak...to even think. She stared up at the man in front of her, unable to credit what he had said. Marry him? She didn’t even know him! She tried to answer, to tell Mr. Trace Warren what she thought of his absurd proposition, but couldn’t find her voice. All that came out was a sort of choking gasp. What sort of man would even think of such a thing? A selfish one! Mr. Warren had agreed to Miss Howard’s condition that he accept the baby as his own in order to fulfill that contract! What a cold, heartless—The baby stirred and began to cry. She looked down at him, so tiny, so helpless, in her arms. Her heart squeezed. If she continued on her journey to visit her sister, what would become of the infant? Who would care for him? Surely not Mr. Warren! He hadn’t even looked at the baby.

It would be only temporary.

No. The man was insane! His plan ludicrous. She should run for the train as fast as she could! But how could she live with herself if she left a helpless baby to an unknown fate at this callous man’s hands? She cuddled the baby close, reached beneath the blanket and brushed her fingertip over his tiny hand. He quieted. Her chest tightened. Her throat constricted. The baby needed her. And she was free of all obligations. What should she do?