His Most Suitable Bride (7 page)

Had she learned her lesson with Simon? Was she finally safe from making another, impetuous mistake where a man was concerned?

As if to test her theory, Reese came up beside her once again. Her heart skipped two full beats. Her throat tightened.

Her knees wobbled.

So much for
that
theory.

Before she could think how to break the silence between them, Reese’s father joined them. “My dear, dear, girl, I have come to bid you good evening.”

“Good night, Mr. Bennett.” She lifted onto her toes and kissed his weathered cheek.

Smiling broadly, he nodded at Reese. “Son.”

“Father.”

With a strange, satisfied gleam in his eyes, the elder Mr. Bennett approached Mrs. Singletary. They spoke no longer than a minute and then he, too, quit the room.

The widow frowned after him, even as she worked her way over to where Callie and Reese still stood.

“It is my turn to say thank you, Mrs. Singletary.” Reese took her hands. “The food was wonderful, the company—” he paused “—interesting and—”

“Before we say good-night, there is a matter of some importance we must discuss.”

“Can it not wait until our Monday morning meeting?”

“It cannot.”

He released her hands and took a step back. “Carry on, then. Say what you need to say.”

“I have concerns about your list.”

His eyes cut to Callie and filled with what could only be described as alarm, or perhaps cynicism, or perhaps he was simply looking at her as he always did and she was reading too much into the moment.

“What concerns?” he asked tensely.

Mrs. Singletary made an airy, circular gesture with her hand. “I believe several of your requirements need revising or, at the very least, expanding.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Those changes can be addressed on Monday.”

By his stiff tone alone, Callie had a bad feeling about this alleged list. Then she caught sight of Reese’s thunderous expression.

Oh, yes, a very bad feeling indeed.

Chapter Seven

R
eese relaxed his jaw, inch by deliberate inch. All the evening needed was a discussion concerning his requirements for a bride. He’d already endured one of the Ferguson girl’s intrusive questions, while fending off her sister’s attempts to place her hand on his arm at inappropriate moments.

As if that hadn’t been enough, he’d been forced to witness Callie share smiles with Marshall Ferguson. She’d blossomed under the man’s attentiveness. Reese didn’t fully understand why this bothered him, but it did. Massively. No matter how irrational, he didn’t like knowing another man could make her smile.

She wasn’t smiling now.

Her eyebrows were pulled together in a sweet, delicate frown. The same expression she’d worn at the opera when she’d agonized over her choice of dessert.

She looked equally adorable this evening, which inexplicably put Reese further on edge.

“This is not an appropriate time to revise my list.” He spoke firmly, decisively, as he would in a courtroom, looking meaningfully at the widow in case she missed his meaning.

True to form, the contrary woman refused to give an inch of ground. “There is no better time than the present, while all three of us are together.”

The
three
of them? “Callie has no cause to hear—”

“So, it’s
Callie
now?”

Reese gritted his teeth.

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Singletary laughed softly. “You look quite put out. Perhaps we should sit down.

“Please, Mr. Bennett.” Her tone took on an apologetic air, and her eyes filled with silent appeal. “All I ask is that you hear me out. I promise to be brief and—” her gaze shifted to her companion “—circumspect.”

Had the widow continued wrestling for control of the situation, Reese would have left without another word. But she’d switched tactics. Short of being rude, which went against the grain, he was stuck.

He would prefer Callie not be nearby. But if Mrs. Singletary followed through with her promise and chose her words carefully, he had no cause for concern.

“Very well,” he said. “I will hear you out.”

He narrowed his eyes so the widow would understand that if she pushed too hard or revealed too much he would end the conversation immediately.

Her brief nod indicated she caught his silent warning.

Hands clasped behind his back, Reese waited for the women to choose their seats. Mrs. Singletary sat in a wing-back chair, while Callie lowered onto the brocade divan facing her.

After only a moment’s consideration, he settled on the divan beside Callie.

He did not look at her. She did not look at him.

Awkwardness had returned to their relationship.

He started to push to his feet. Anticipating the move, Mrs. Singletary held up a hand to stop him.

“Callie.” Lowering her hand, she smiled at the younger woman. “Would you be so kind as to retrieve a piece of paper off my desk?”

Callie blinked at her employer. “Which one do you mean?”

“You’ll know it when you see it. It is a list of seven items penned in Mr. Bennett’s handwriting.”

“A list?” Callie’s gaze whipped to Reese. “But—”

“Off you go, dear. The man doesn’t have all night.”

“Yes, Mrs. Singletary.” Mouth pressed in a firm line, Callie marched to the door. At the threshold, she looked over her shoulder, sighed and then continued on her way.

The moment she disappeared into the hallway, the widow broke her silence. “I’m sorry to tell you, Mr. Bennett, but I will be unable to help with your bride search.”

Reese blinked in stunned silence. This woman, who prided herself for being a consummate matchmaker, was relinquishing her duties? Before she’d even begun?

He should be relieved. He’d only cooperated with the widow’s scheme to appease her and to maintain control of the situation.

Yet, now, as she attempted to step away from the project, Reese realized he wanted to find a suitable woman to marry. But with his schedule full and his time limited, Mrs. Singletary’s assistance would have greatly expedited the process.

“Why are you begging off?” he asked.

“It’s not that I don’t wish to see you happily settled. I do, indeed.” She picked up her cat and settled the overweight animal atop her voluminous skirt. “At the moment, I am overtaxed and am unable to give the matter my full attention.”

It was a flimsy excuse at best. Reese had seen the widow orchestrate matches while simultaneously negotiating highly volatile business deals. Clearly, she was up to something.

“What other commitments are you referring to?”

“Oh, this and that, which will require me to go here and there.”

The intentionally vague response had him reaching for a calm that didn’t exist. “Perhaps you could be more specific.”

“Of course.” She nodded agreeably. “As you know, I am in the process of raising funds for a new wing on the hospital. If we are to break ground before winter, I must move my annual charity ball up by several months. Added to the expansion of my business partnership with Mr. Hawkins, well, my plate is full.”

“I will put my search on hold.”

“There’s no need for such drastic measures.” With the faintest trace of amusement shadowing her mouth, the widow leaned forward. “I have no plans to abandon you completely. I propose we put my companion in charge of your search.”

“Callie?” Reese hauled in a sharp breath. “You are thinking of putting Callie in charge?”

“I understand your surprise, but if you would take a moment and view this from the proper perspective, you would see the value in my proposal.”

He scowled at the ridiculous play on words. “What you suggest is impractical, illogical and completely absurd.”

“Now, now, do not give in to skepticism so early in the game.” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “My companion is acquainted with many young women in town. She will know their character personally, as well as their strengths and weakness, perhaps even their hidden shortcomings.”

A valid argument, to be sure, but Reese couldn’t imagine working with Callie on something as personal as the search for his future bride. Their friendship was still too new, too tentative.

There was another, more glaring concern that could not be ignored. “She is my former fiancée’s sister. Her involvement in this could prove awkward.”

“My dear Mr. Bennett, life is full of awkward moments.” The widow spoke as if he was a slow-witted child. “How we deal with them ultimately reveals our character.”

* * *

In the hushed silence of Mrs. Singletary’s private office, Callie stared at the list in her hand. Now that she was finally alone, she desperately wanted to read Fanny’s letter tucked inside her sleeve. But Callie sensed this piece of paper held equal importance, if not more.

There was no heading on the page, just seven items written in bold masculine strokes beside neatly spaced Roman numerals.

She scanned the list quickly, a hint of alarm crawling up her spine. When the sensation refused to desist, she read each item again, this time out loud.

“‘Number one,’” she said, starting at the top of the page. “‘Well-educated and articulate. Number two. Have a good moral compass. Number three. Loves children, wants several, at least five but no more than seven.’”

Callie stopped reading as the familiar line sunk in, twisting her insides into knots. What was Reese after?

Oh, but she knew. She knew.

Lord, please, no, let me be wrong.

Battling a wave of panic, she continued reading down the list. “‘Must come from a good family and value strong family ties. Be an excellent hostess. A witty conversationalist. Conventional. Steady, absolutely no risk takers.’”

As Callie read the final entry her voice trailed into a hushed whisper. Her heartbeat thickened to a slow, painful thudding. Reese
was
looking for a wife, and he’d secured Mrs. Singletary’s assistance in the matter.

The widow was the obvious person to turn to for help in such a matter. Reese was a logical cerebral man, it made sense that he would take the time to draw up a list of his preferred character traits to aid the widow in her search.

Callie couldn’t allow her employer to succeed. She had to think of a way to keep Mrs. Singletary from finding Reese a suitable match or, at the very least, stall the process until Fanny returned home.

Again, Callie read the list, attempting objectivity on this third pass.

She sighed miserably.

What was the man thinking?

The qualities Reese had listed were so common, daresay ordinary. Any number of women in town could fit these characteristics.

With that thought came a surge of hope.

Perhaps there was another reason for this list. Maybe Reese was looking for a housekeeper for himself and his father. Or an assistant in his law firm.

Even as the thought materialized, her gaze landed on the third entry from the top.
Loves children, wants several, at least five but no more than seven.

No housekeeper or law clerk needed to desire children.

“What am I going to do?”

She needed a plan. But first, she must gather more information. She hurried back to the parlor.

At the same moment she entered, Reese strode across the room and returned to his seat on the divan facing Mrs. Singletary. The widow muttered something Callie couldn’t quite make out and then patted his hand as if she was attempting to soothe his concerns.

That didn’t bode well.

“Ah, Callie, there you are.” The widow motioned her forward. “We were just discussing you.”

That
really
didn’t bode well, and sparked a kind of awful terror in her, even as excitement sang in her blood. Would Reese consider
her
a likely candidate?

Inappropriate thought.
Inappropriate.

Reese belonged to Fanny.

Determined to protect her sister’s interest, Callie led with the piece of paper outstretched in front of her. “Here you are, Mrs. Singletary. The list you requested.”

She handed over the paper and, against her better judgment, glanced over at Reese. When their gazes connected, the floor seemed to shift beneath her feet. Why did he have to look at her like...
that?
The same way he’d looked at her in his private box at the Grand Tabor, as though she were a puzzle he needed to solve.

On ridiculously shaky legs, Callie moved to stand by the hearth, steadying herself with a hand on the mantelpiece. The heat of the fire penetrated through the thin silk of her gown, yet did nothing to warm her. A cold sweep of foreboding ran through her veins.

She shifted, ever-so-slightly, and caught Reese still looking at her, his gaze tense and unwavering.

Oh, my.

As they stared at one another, silence fell over the room, very awkward and pulsing with all sorts of hidden meaning.

Mrs. Singletary’s voice cut through the tension. “Now that you have returned, you will want to know what Mr. Bennett and I have discussed in your absence.”

Callie nodded stiffly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Mr. Bennett is in need of your assistance.”

“He wants my assistance?” She turned her gaze to meet his. “For what?”

His eyebrows pulled together in that thoughtful expression she found so attractive. For a long, stressful moment he looked undecided, obviously mulling over the best course of action.

Several heartbeats later, he let out a slow breath and reached out his open palm to Mrs. Singletary.

Nodding in satisfaction, the widow handed him the paper Callie had only just retrieved from her office.

He glanced down at the list. “Mrs. Singletary has recently pointed out that my image needs improving.”

Callie gasped, a rusty sound that hurt her throat coming out. “That’s ridiculous.” She spoke without thinking, and straight from her heart. “Forgive me, Mrs. Singletary, but you are wrong.”

“Am I, dear?”

“Absolutely.” She felt a rush of frustration at her employer’s nonchalant response, angered on Reese’s behalf. “Reese is a man of unquestionable integrity.”

He chuckled softly. “Though I appreciate the sentiment, you don’t need to defend me, Callie.”

“I’m not defending you.” She felt her shoulders bunch, forced herself to relax. “I’m speaking the truth. You are greatly admired throughout all of Denver.”

He acknowledged this with a brief nod and a very small smile. “But as Mrs. Singletary pointed out, I am also considered stern and overly rigid.”

“Nonsense.”

“Nevertheless, Mrs. Singletary has presented a compelling argument. Now that I am the managing senior partner of Bennett, Bennett and Brand, my reputation matters. What I do, how I am perceived by others, reflects on my employees and my clients. Thus, the quickest route to softening my image is to find a suitable woman to marry, who will—”

“No.”
Callie’s voice caught on the word. Oh, but this was terrible. Terrible. “You can’t possibly be thinking of replacing Fanny with—” she glared at the list in his hand “—with, well, just anyone.”

The smile he gave her was soft and full of silent understanding.

“Fanny is special,” Callie declared when he returned his attention to the list. “There is no one like her in all of Denver.”

Head bent over the paper, he nodded distractedly. “I don’t disagree.”

“My sister will be coming home soon.” The words tumbled over one another in squeaking desperation. “You must wait for her return.”

“Callie, you heard what Mr. Hawkins said.” Reese placed the paper face up on the cushions beside him. “Fanny is happy in Chicago. She is not coming home, at least not anytime soon.”

“We don’t know that for certain.”

“Perhaps not, but you and I have had this discussion before. Even if Fanny returns to Denver tomorrow, I won’t be renewing my suit.”

Why did this proclamation send a surge of joy running through her? And where was her guilt for such a traitorous response? Callie loved her sister, and believed Fanny deserved only the best in life, including a second chance with this wonderful man.

“You won’t truly know how you feel until you see her again.” Who was she trying to convince? Reese? Or herself? “Please, Reese, just hold off on this until—”