Rebel with a Heart

Oh, dear, she should have considered that during dinner.

While delivering Mr. Hotel Owner his just rewards had been deeply satisfying, the little show had drawn the attention of every diner in the hotel restaurant. She would have to be more discreet in the future.

“At least the snow has quit,” Jess said, fitting his sister into the curve of his elbow.

The poor little thing continued to squirm and fuss. She hadn’t been out of her or Jess’s arms in ever so long.

Pain cramped Lilleth’s fingers. They felt like frozen claws clutching the handles of the valises. “That’s a mercy, but the wind! Make sure to keep the blanket over Mary’s head.”

“She keeps pulling it off.”

It wouldn’t take long for her tiny ears to freeze, even covered by a hat. They needed shelter and they needed it now. The dark and the cold were swiftly becoming mortal enemies.

A church, then. Perhaps they would find sanctuary there, if only for this night. Lilleth scanned the rooftops of town, looking for a steeple. Where could it be?

Every town had a church! Hopefully, she’d find one with someone in attendance.

“Look there.” Jess pointed down the street. “There’s a lamp on in Mr. Clarkly’s library.”

“Hurry, Jess, we’ve got to get there before he puts it out and turns in for the night.”

Doing so took longer than she dreamed it would. The boardwalk had grown icy. Jess half slipped a dozen times. In the end, she abandoned the valises in front of Horton File’s Real Estate, Homes for Sale or Rent. She took Mary from Jess’s arms and steadied him.

“The lamp’s just gone off!” Her brave young nephew sounded truly alarmed.

“We’re nearly there. He’ll hear us when we knock.”

She prayed that he wouldn’t turn them away. For all that he was a stranger, Mr. Clarkly seemed a decent fellow.

It took forever, but at last they stood in front of the door of Clark Clarkly’s Private Library.

Lilleth knocked. Stabbing pain shot through her frozen hand. She bit her lip to hold in the agony and keep the tears out of her eyes.

Footsteps sounded inside, coming toward the door. Lilleth would simply faint into his arms if he attempted to turn them away, and it might not be an act.

The door opened.

“Mrs. Gordon!” Mr. Clarkly gaped at her without his spectacles on. Even in her desperation, she noticed that he had uncommonly appealing eyes, blue with green flecks. Bless the man for a saint, those eyes reflected more than a bit of concern.

He reached for Mary and tucked her in the crook of his arm. With his free hand he touched Lilleth’s shoulder and drew her inside.

“Come in, young man,” he said to Jess. “You look frozen through.”

“I’ll just go back,” Jess said with chattering teeth, “f-for th-the bags.”

“Well now, that won’t do.” Mr. Clarkly poked his head out the door and peered at the bags lying on the boardwalk a block down. “They’ll be safe enough until I get a fire going. Here, take your sister and sit on that chair. There’s a book beside it on the table. That should keep her distracted until she’s warmed through.”

Clark Clarkly knelt beside the fireplace, urging a small flame to life. He performed the chore quickly. His shoulders flexed and contracted under his shirt with his brisk movements.

Praise everything good that the man built a fire with more skill than he displayed walking.

He stood up after a moment, seeming taller than she remembered, straighter of form.

“Thank you, Mr. Clarkly.” That simple phrase didn’t begin to express her gratitude. “I can’t think of what might have happened if—”

“No thanks needed, Mrs. Gordon.” He took her cold hands in his big warm ones for an instant while he led her toward a chair by the fire. “Sit tight while I fetch your bags.”

Mr. Clarkly hurried out the door and closed it behind him before the wind could sweep away the warmth beginning to hug the room.

His gait had been quick, efficient. Judging by his swift return, he hadn’t taken a single tumble while he was fetching the bags.

He dropped them on the floor, and then instantly forgot he had put them there. His first step forward brought him stumbling across the room, where he careened off his desk and landed at her feet, with one hand caught in her skirt.

“So sorry...I beg your pardon. My glasses.” He glanced about, blinking hard. “Blind as a bat without them.”

“Mr. Clarkly.” She untangled his hand where it gripped her ankle through her skirt. “I am the one indebted to you.”

One could almost wish, however unkind it might be, that he wouldn’t find his glasses. He had eyes a woman could look into and get lost.

Silly, Lilleth, silly, she chided herself. Getting lost in a man’s eyes. What nonsense!

Clark Clarkly had come to her aid and nothing more.

Still, it was disappointing to see him find his broken spectacles. He frowned at them, tossed them aside and rooted through a desk drawer until he found another pair.

The man did need to see, after all. She’d be a silly goose to believe that staring into a man’s eyes would result in anything more than heartache, even if he did seem uncommonly kind.

Relief eased the iciness from her bones as much as the flames did.

Mr. Clarkly sat on the floor, playing with Mary and speaking to Jess in low tones. The fire crackled, sounding like music in the cozy library. A teakettle in another room began to whistle.

What she wouldn’t give to be able to sing the rest of the tension from her body. But no, that might not be wise. The chances were slim, but her voice might be recognized.

But humming, now that would be a comfort. Anyone could hum and sound the same. So she did. She hummed her favorite tune, one that had comforted her since she was a little girl.

For some reason, that made Mr. Clarkly quit talking to Jess and stare at her with the most peculiar expression on his face.

There was something almost...but not quite, familiar about it. Well, that was silly. She’d never met Mr. Clarkly until today.

* * *

“This ought to warm you.” Trace grazed Lilleth’s hand, passing her a cup of steaming tea.

He didn’t think her fingers looked as blue as they had.

What wouldn’t he give to be the man with the right to hold them to his heart and warm them thoroughly.

After half an hour beside the fire she had only now quit shivering.