Last Chance Bride

“No. I made her.”

“You made her?” Her mouth opened into a round O.

“Yes. I chose everything carefully. The big blue button eyes. The brown yarn braids. The calico dress.”

“It’s red too. We match.”

“Yes. It’s a coincidence, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded solemnly, the puff of wind teasing her skirt. “Did you make her for me?”

“Yes.”

Emma didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe.

“She doesn’t have a name yet. I thought you might have a few ideas.” Libby stepped closer and pressed the gift against the girl’s chest. Immediately those reed thin arms embraced the rag doll, hugging her hard.

“Oh, thank you!” Now that Emma had found her voice, it vibrated with the deepest joy. “Pa, look! I have a real doll! Not just a wooden carving, but a real doll!”

“I see that, Emma.” Jacob’s eyes twinkled.

Emma squeezed her doll tightly. “Oh, I do hope you can stay with us.”

Silence.

Libby stared hard at the ruffle hemming her skirts. She could feel Jacob’s gaze on her, feel his silence.

“Well, now, Emma, you know we’ll just have to wait and see how things work out.” His words came gently, like a loving touch.

Libby’s eyes smarted. Maybe she wasn’t pregnant.

“Pa, Miss Hodges has to stay. Everything is going to be perfect. I just know it.”

Libby glanced up. Jacob pinned her with his hard, assessing gaze. Her heart kicked in her chest. If only he could understand.

“Dinner’s ready!” a woman’s voice called from the door, fracturing the tension strung as tight as a clothesline.

“Thanks, Jane.” Jacob snagged hold of the harness, turning his back to Libby. “I’ve got to take care of these horses. Emma, take Miss Hodges into the cabin.”

“Can I show her my room?”

Libby closed her eyes. She could feel dreams slipping between her fingers, impossible to grasp.

“Just don’t keep Jane waiting.” Jacob led the horses off, the buckboard rattling over the rocks and ruts in the yard.

“Jane made chicken pie.” Emma slipped her small hand inside Libby’s. “I helped her. I got to make the dough and everything.”

Libby stared down at the hand within hers, so small and trusting. “I bet it will be the best chicken pie I’ve ever had.”

“Jane put carrots and peas in it.” Emma led the way across the dusty front yard toward the snug cabin.

Heavens. Libby paused in the threshold, glancing about the pleasant room with its puncheon floors and log walls and simple furnishings. Emma bounced through the front room as if there were nothing special about the solid walls so carefully made and sealed tight against the winds. But to her...this cabin came right out of her dreams.

Libby belonged here. She could feel it. A tremble of joy shivered through her.

“It isn’t much.” Jacob’s voice startled her, and she spun around.

He could read the surprise on her face. She hadn’t heard him approach.

“Oh.” She placed a slender hand to her chest. “This is the most beautiful home. Did you build it yourself?”

“Yes. Felled the trees. Chinked the walls. It’s snug and it’s sturdy.” Pride simmered in his chest. No matter what she was, Elizabeth Hodges was a woman of simple tastes. He liked that.

“It’s so roomy and bright.” Her eyes shone not with greed or want, but with something deeper. “Why, with curtains at the windows and a rug on the floor, this would look like a picture in a book.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

She confused him. He didn’t know if he wanted to marry a woman with a questionable reputation. Yet he liked her. She was soft and pretty. He suspected life had not been easy for her, a woman alone in the world.

“Pa, come on.” Emma crowded next to Elizabeth, grabbing hold of the woman’s capable hands. “Jane’s puttin’ supper on the table. I want to show Miss Hodges where to sit.”

Alone on the front step, Jacob watched his little girl drag Elizabeth away. It was best not to think of the future.

But as he glanced about his simple, adequate home, he noticed the polished furniture and the glistening windowpanes. Jane and Emma must have scrubbed the room from floor to ceiling hoping to make a good impression.

Now she stood at the table, patiently listening while Emma set her doll down in the chair by the window, as if to make the rag doll a part of the family. Elizabeth leaned down and meant to brush a strand of hair from Emma’s eyes but snatched back her hand, uncertain.

Jacob’s stomach tightened. He could see the goodness in her. He didn’t want to like her.

“Come sit down while it’s still hot,” Jane said, barreling around the corner with the potatoes steaming in a glass bowl.

He clomped across the room and pulled back his chair. Elizabeth looked so uncertain. She certainly wasn’t a bad woman. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Go ahead and sit down. I’m wagering Emma has a chair all picked out for you.”

“She’s sittin’ beside me.” The girl beamed.

“I could have guessed that.” Jacob sat down in his chair.

Emma grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and showed her to the chair between them. The woman looked overwhelmed. She lifted her chin and happiness filled her eyes.

“This is all so wonderful,” she said in a voice as gentle as morning. “I’m just so grateful to be here.”

“I’m glad, too,” Emma chimed.

Guilt kicked Jacob like an ill-tempered mule. He’d not been fair to Elizabeth Hodges from the start. Promising her marriage when he never intended to love her. He’d dreaded her arrival, and if it hadn’t been for Emma, Elizabeth wouldn’t be sitting at his table right now, pregnant or not.

“I picked the beans fresh today.” Emma clutched the cut-glass bowl in both small hands. “You like beans, don’t you Miss Hodges?”

“I love them.” Delight shimmered in her eyes like sunlight playing in the creek.