His Most Suitable Bride (8 page)

“Fanny and I said everything we needed to say to one another the day she broke our engagement. It’s past time I moved on with my life.” He picked up the list again, scanned the page. “I want to find a bride, soon, no later than year’s end.”

His tone held such a lack of passion he could be speaking of any number of pursuits, all business-related. “Why?”

His head snapped up. “Pardon me?”

“
Why
do you want to get married?” She glanced at Mrs. Singletary. The widow gave her an encouraging nod, as if urging her to continue.

Callie drew in a tight breath and forged ahead. “Other than to enhance your image, why do you wish to marry by the end of the year?”

To his credit, Reese didn’t answer right away. He considered her question silently, thoughtfully, then said, “I want to get married for the same reason I asked for your sister’s hand.”

She blinked at him, swallowed back a wave of trepidation and forced herself to say, “Because you want to fall in love again?”

He laughed, the sound abrupt, hard, almost bitter. “I am not seeking a love match.”

Puzzled, she cocked her head. “Then what are you seeking?”

“Companionship, friendship and most of all children. I’d like a houseful of them.”

He’d answered without hesitation, without even stopping to think about it, as far as she could tell. Admittedly, Callie couldn’t fault his answer. Wanting children was a good reason to marry, almost as commendable as love. Almost.

“Now that we have the ‘why’ settled, let’s move on.” He passed her the list. “These are the specific qualities I’m looking for in a wife.”

Callie pretended to read each entry as if for the first time. “They are terribly vague.”

“Not in the least.”

Throughout this interchange, Mrs. Singletary had remained silent. Callie looked at her now. Surely she had something to say, some advice to give. The widow ignored her completely as she paid avid attention to a loose thread in her skirt.

Sighing, Callie glanced back down at the list. “Any number of women could fit these requirements.”

At last, Mrs. Singletary joined the conversation. “Well, then, your task will be all that much easier.”

“
My
task?” Callie gasped. The list slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

“Yes, dear, I am putting you in charge of finding Mr. Bennett a wife.”

Torn between frustration and sheer horror at the prospect, she rounded on Reese. “You have agreed to this?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Mrs. Singletary quite wisely spelled out the value in leaning on you for this particular task. I have weighed the pros and cons, and have decided I agree. You are the perfect choice.”

Stunned by both his offhand attitude and his dry tone, Callie stared at him for an entire three seconds. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple,” he said. “You are acquainted with many eligible young women in town. And have cause to know them in ways neither I nor Mrs. Singletary could hope to achieve, especially considering my deadline.”

The backs of Callie’s eyes stung. Her breath clogged in her throat. Oh, this was awful, truly awful—a complete disaster in the making. She had to stop this madness.

Then again...

What if she agreed to Mrs. Singletary’s scheme? Callie would then have the ability to control this terrible turn of events from a place of strength.

She could stall the process, delay the outcome or even mishandle her duties. If she scrutinized each candidate before introducing her to Reese, Callie could present only the ones he’d find unappealing.

In the meantime, she would contact Fanny and insist the stubborn girl return home. Before it was too late. Before Reese found another woman to marry.

“I’ll do it,” she declared, smiling sweetly. “I’ll help you find a wife.”

Chapter Eight

R
eese watched in utter fascination as a complicated array of emotions spread across Callie’s face. In less than two minutes, she’d gone from a state of shock to gaping outrage to panicked consideration, and ending, finally, with her features settling into a look of female resolve.

It was the resolve that put him immediately on guard.

He’d never seen a woman look quite that determined.

He hadn’t misspoken when he’d claimed he’d carefully considered handing over his bride search to Callie. She came from a well-respected ranching family and had an unblemished character. Despite their personal connection through Fanny, Reese trusted Callie without reservation.

And, as the widow had graciously pointed out, Callie was personally acquainted with young women of equally high standing in the community. Relying on her to introduce him to suitable women made sense logically.

Yet Reese couldn’t help but wonder. Had he been too hasty in agreeing to Mrs. Singletary’s plan?

The widow, Reese could handle. He’d been doing so for years, tackling her business affairs with unprecedented success, regardless of her unconventional requests and thinly veiled personal agendas. That was business.

But Callie?

Callie,
a woman he thought he knew, kept surprising him, making him reassess his preconceived notions of her character. Docile one moment, bold the next. Plain one day, jaw-droppingly beautiful the next.

Boring. Then exciting.

Demure and shy. Then confident and determined.

Which woman was the real Callie Mitchell?

The fact that he wanted to know the answer posed too many problems to sort through at the moment.

He’d made a mistake.

“I’ve changed my mind.” He hauled himself to his feet, moving quickly, rolling his shoulders in order to maintain his balance. “I will select my own bride, in my own way.”

He’d done so before. Of course, his previous efforts hadn’t turned out well. But he knew what to avoid this time around.

“Now, now, Mr. Bennett, I believe you are getting ahead of yourself.” With her lips set at an ironic angle, Mrs. Singletary placed her monstrous cat on the floor and pushed to her feet. “There is no need to make a snap decision merely because a few details have changed in our plan.”

Technically, only one detail had changed. The sister of his ex-fiancée was now in charge of helping him find the woman to take her place. He’d almost find the situation humorous, if it wasn’t so unspeakably bizarre.

“There has been nothing but haste in this entire process.”

Reese only had himself to blame. He’d pursued the easiest route, pawning off the task of finding his future bride because he hadn’t wanted to take the time to court another woman.

Yet, he didn’t want to take another misstep, either, hence his original agreement to pass off the duty to the widow in the first place. Now, he was in a quandary. What to do?

Troubled by his indecision, he contemplated praying for guidance. Then he remembered he and the Lord weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

“Reese.” Callie gently touched his arm, a silent show of solidarity in the barely there gesture. “I would very much like to help you find a wife.”

He studied her unwavering gaze and saw that the flicker of resolve was still there. Apparently, Callie had her own agenda in agreeing to the widow’s scheme.

What could she possibly hope to gain by agreeing to help him? “You are aware this will put us in each other’s company frequently.”

“You object to my companion’s company?”

“Of course not, that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.” And didn’t that say it all? He, a trained attorney, a man used to applying words to great advantage, couldn’t put together a decent argument.

“Reese.” Callie gently squeezed his arm to regain his attention. “We are friends, are we not?”

He nodded. “We are.”

“Wouldn’t you also agree that friends help friends?”

He ran a hand along his jaw. “I would.”

“I don’t mind if this puts us in close proximity.” Her bow-shaped lips curved upward. “I enjoy your company.”

“I enjoy yours, too.” A little too much. And that was the problem. Reese actually liked Callie. He especially liked this new Callie, the one who dressed in rich, bold colors that made her skin glow and her eyes sparkle.

Her transformation awed him. Her beauty stole his breath.

“If you will give me a chance—” she pulled her hand away from his arm “—I believe I can be of great assistance in your search.”

Hadn’t he already arrived at that same conclusion? “That is not the point.”

“What
is
the point?”

He couldn’t remember.

“I need a day or two to think this through,” he said, grasping for any reason to make his exit before he said or did something he couldn’t take back.

“By all means.” Politeness itself, the widow stepped aside to let him pass. “In the meantime, Callie will draw up a list of suitable young women who meet your requirements.”

Another list. As a man who lived his life by them, he was growing to dislike them immensely.

He cast a final glance in Callie’s direction.

Smiling serenely, she twined her fingers together in front of her. The slight tremble in her clasped hands told its own story. Callie wasn’t as confident as she appeared.

Good.
He liked knowing he wasn’t alone in his discomfort.

“I will be in touch in the next few days.” He nodded to the widow. “I will see myself out.”

“Oh, no, that simply won’t do.” Mrs. Singletary nudged her companion toward him. “Callie will escort you to the door.”

After only a slight hesitation, Callie shifted to a spot beside him. “I’d like nothing better.”

* * *

Beatrix Singletary watched the two young people exit the room. Both so erect in their posture, their shoulders rigid, their spines straight and unbending as their minds.

Her beloved companion. Her trusted attorney. Two wounded souls, refusing to live life to the fullest, tortured by secrets they kept hidden deep within themselves. It was really quite sad.

Neither would admit to needing the other.

Oh, but they did. They needed one another greatly, and would be far better together than apart.

Beatrix looked forward to watching them fall in love. She knew the exact dress that would look best on Callie at their wedding.

Satisfied she’d set them on the proper path, Beatrix knew better than to become complacent. Any number of complications could arise to foil her plan. Thus, she followed behind at a reasonable distance, her steps as silent as her cat’s.

Stealth was hardly a necessity tonight.

Determined to show the world they were in control, neither Mr. Bennett nor Callie would look over their shoulders to see if she followed.

They kept a respectable distance from each other, looking neither right nor left
nor
at one another.

Beatrix narrowed her eyes in frustration.

Such discomfort in Mr. Bennett’s strides, such awkwardness in the way Callie held her shoulders. Such a battle the two were going to put up to reach their happy ending.

Ah, but Beatrix Singletary refused to be disheartened, nor did she have any intention of giving up.

The good Lord had put Callie in her home for a reason. And that reason was walking stiffly beside the young woman, his chin in perfect parallel alignment with the floor.

When two people were meant to be together, as her dear companion and stern attorney were, they eventually found their way. Especially with a little nudge or two from an older, wiser matchmaker.

* * *

After seeing Reese out, Callie returned to her room instead of rejoining Mrs. Singletary in the parlor. Her nerves were too raw, her thoughts in too much turmoil to match wits with the clever woman.

Besides, Callie wanted to be alone while she read her sister’s letter. Settling in an overstuffed chair, she carefully placed the pages on her lap. A mere half hour ago, she’d been eagerly anticipating this moment. She’d desperately wanted to read what her sister had to say.

So why wasn’t she unfolding the pages?

Why was she hesitating?

Fear, she realized. She was afraid of what she would discover.

Sighing over her cowardice, she turned her head and looked out the window beside her. The Rocky Mountains stood guard, their mighty peaks clearly outlined in the deep purple sky. The rain had moved on. Now, pale moonlight cut shadows across the land while tree branches scratched eerily at the glass windowpanes.

Callie sighed again, pressed her lips tightly together and ignored the letter a moment longer. Something far more troubling weighed on her mind.

Why had she agreed to help Reese find his future bride?

Then again, how could she have not agreed? Mrs. Singletary would have taken over the task if she’d refused. And unlike Callie, the widow wouldn’t stop presenting eligible women until Reese was happily settled.

Callie groaned. She didn’t object to him getting married, as long as he married Fanny. Anyone else would be intolerable. But how was she to create a list of suitable woman who weren’t actually suitable?

What a disaster.

The quickest, most expedient route to fixing this mess was to convince Fanny to return home immediately.

No easy task.

Not if Jonathon Hawkins was to be believed.

Did Fanny have any regret over leaving Reese behind? And if she did, would she put on a brave face, fearing she couldn’t come home now that she’d made her initial,
hasty
decision to leave town?

There was one sure way to find out what was in her sister’s head. Read the letter Mr. Hawkins had personally delivered.

Callie looked down at the folded paper in her lap.

What if her sister didn’t regret leaving town?

What if she did? What if she wanted Reese back?

For a dangerous moment, Callie wished—oh, how she wished—that Fanny was through with Reese once and for all.

Then Callie could... She could...

Find him someone else to marry.

The thought brought on such despair she nearly choked on her own breath.

No more stalling.

She unfolded Fanny’s letter with fumbling fingers. She couldn’t help but remember Jonathon Hawkins’s expression right before he’d pressed the papers into her hand. He’d looked quite confident he was doing Callie a favor by giving her this missive from her sister.

Until tonight, she’d only thought of him as that odious man who’d given Fanny a reason to leave town. But as he’d stared into her eyes, she’d seen a man with nothing but good intentions.

Perhaps she’d misjudged him.

Callie coiled her fingers around the unread letter in her lap. The stiff feel of the paper reminded her that the answers to her dilemma could be right here, beneath her hand.

She lifted the letter until the moonlight illuminated the entire page. The beautiful looping scrawl definitely belonged to Fanny, but appeared much neater than usual, as if she’d taken great care with each word.

A sob worked its way up Callie’s throat. How she missed her sister. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out the pages and began reading....

My Dearest Sister,

I scarcely know where to begin. If you are reading this letter, I can assume Mr. Hawkins has kept his promise and has delivered this to you personally. I am so sorry I haven’t answered any of your letters until now. I ask for your forgiveness. It seems a poor substitute to do so in writing, rather than speaking to you in person.

In answer to the question in your last letter, no, I do not regret leaving town. Nor do I regret breaking my engagement with Reese. I should have never agreed to marry him, at least not until I knew more about myself. Though not his fault, Reese proposed to an image I had created, not the woman I am, deep down, and that is solely my fault.

I have happily played a role all my life. The pretty, frivolous young woman. The adored sister. The treasured fiancée. But who is the woman beneath the various masks I wear?

I don’t know. However, I am determined to find out. Until I do, I have no business marrying any man.

Please do not hold my departure against Mr. Hawkins. Had he not offered me this job, I would have found another way to leave town.

I close this letter with a single request. When next you see Reese, will you tell him I am doing well and wish him nothing but happiness for the future?

I love you, dearest Callie.

Yours most faithfully,

Fanny

Callie read the letter again and tossed it on the nightstand, only to pick it up and read it one more time. And then another.

Heart pounding, throat burning, she tried to remain detached, but she couldn’t. Fanny didn’t regret leaving town, but her reasoning for breaking her engagement with Reese was something Callie had never considered. Her sister had been hiding behind a mask, of sorts. No different than Callie herself.

While Callie had buried her true nature behind dull clothing and severe hairstyles, Fanny had been doing much the same with her fashionable dresses and sparkling personality. The difference, it seemed, was that Callie had always known who she was beneath the facade.

Apparently, Fanny did not.

Callie read her sister’s letter once again.

Nowhere did Fanny mention she didn’t still love Reese.

The battle wasn’t over, then. Fanny could one day change her mind and want Reese back. Despite his assurance otherwise, how did he know he didn’t want the same until he was actually faced with the choice?

Cold, hard resentment surged. For a treacherous moment, Callie allowed the dark sensation to fill her. After the pain Fanny had caused, she didn’t deserve Reese.

Callie shoved the traitorous thought aside. It wasn’t her place to judge her sister so harshly. The Lord’s glorious, redemptive love called for mercy and forgiveness.

Besides, she’d agreed to help Reese find a wife, with the express purpose of keeping him from moving on until Fanny could make one final bid to win his heart. Her course was set.

Callie moved to her desk, dipped her pen in the inkwell and began the letter that would hopefully bring Fanny home.