The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (42 page)

Sarah’s mouth parted.

“Maybe he’s saved the best for last.” Mary placed her hands on her hips. “Like dessert.”

Genevieve turned away from them and didn’t say another word as she prepared for bed.

A crash of thunder rattled the window and made gooseflesh rise on Sarah’s arms. Maybe he had made up his mind already. Maybe he wasn’t going to ask her for time alone.

Mr. Beaumont’s words returned to her. What if the Greenfields had advised him not to marry her? Father had often said that her careless ways would be her ruination. Were his words coming true?

But she remembered their time together by the clothesline, when he had said her curls were becoming. Did a man compliment a woman’s beauty, if he was simply a friend?

She shouldn’t read more into the compliment than he intended. He was admiring her hair, like he would a sunrise, or a blossom on the prairie.

The first droplets of rain pattered against the windowpane, and lightning lit the sky, illuminating the sheets flapping on the clothesline.

“My sheets!” Sarah leaped off her bed and scrambled for a shawl. “I forgot them on the line.”

The roll of Hazel’s eyes was almost audible. “Won’t you ever learn, Sarah?”

“Do you need help?” Mary called.

“No.” Sarah opened the door and secured the heavy shawl about her shoulders. “It will only take me a moment.”

She closed the door and raced down the dark hallway toward the stairs. Everyone had found their beds, and Sarah was thankful for the thunder, which disguised her pounding feet. If Mrs. Greenfield knew she had forgotten her duties and left the precious sheets on the line, she would be reprimanded, again.

Rain began to pound heavier as Sarah opened the back door. She pulled the shawl tight about her shoulders and ran across the yard to the clothesline. The hard earth beneath her bare feet was quickly turning to mud. If she didn’t save the sheets, she would have to clean them again tomorrow—in addition to her other chores.

Another streak of lightning lit the sky, and Sarah saw a man standing by the sheets, quickly pulling them off the line.

“Mr. Longley.” She stopped for only a moment.

He turned when he heard her, rain streaking down his cheeks.

She ran to his side and pulled the clothespins from the sheets, wrapping each one under her arm. In no time, they finished and raced back to the house side by side.

They stood on the porch, each trying to catch their breath.

“Thank you.” She hugged the rescued sheets to her chest.

“You’re welcome.”

Genevieve’s accusation arose in her mind. He had spent time alone with the other three, yet he had not asked her if she’d like some time with him. Would he ask her now?

The storm picked up in its ferocity, whipping her nightgown around her legs and pulling her hair loose from its braid. Too late, she realized she’d forgotten to secure it with a ribbon, and the curls blew about in wild abandon.

His blue eyes took her in. She wasn’t as beautiful as Genevieve, but the look in his eyes told her he appreciated what he saw.

“Will the sheets need to be washed again?” he asked above the wind and thunder.

“I think they will be all right.”

They stood facing each other, but neither spoke. Would he ask her?

He looked as if he was about to say good night, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Are you enjoying your stay with us, Mr. Longley?” Where had that come from? The question was suited for a parlor on a nice sunny day—not during the midst of a storm.

He tried not to smile but didn’t succeed. “Don’t you think we had better go to bed?” He must have realized how his question sounded, because he dipped his head and quickly said, “That is, don’t you think the others will wonder where you are?”

She nodded and allowed him to open the door for her.

Why didn’t he ask her?

He followed her inside and closed the door. The kitchen lay cloaked in darkness, but she knew her way.

She set the sheets on the worktable. “What are your plans for tomorrow?” She tried to sound indifferent, as if she didn’t care what he did. But she did care—maybe too much.

“I plan to fish.”

“Fish?” She turned, her brows raised.

She could see his outline against the dark but couldn’t see his face.

“I’m accustomed to fishing almost every day at Red Lake,” he said. “I think best while I fish.”

“What will you think about?”

He was silent so long, she didn’t think he’d answer. But finally his voice came to her through the darkness. “The decision I need to make.”

He was ready to make a decision?

“I’ll bid you good night, Miss Ellis.”

He left the kitchen as the storm raged outside. Sarah stood in place, her nightgown damp about her legs and her hair hanging wildly around her shoulders.

He wasn’t going to ask her.

Chapter 11

L
uke entered the dark room he shared with John. A small window revealed the intensity of the storm outside, but inside everything was still. He quietly removed his wet clothing and climbed into his cot, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Did you save the sheets?” John’s voice found him in the silence.

“Yes. Miss Ellis arrived shortly after me, and we were able to rescue them before they were damaged.”

John rolled to his side and propped his head up on his hand. “Are you going to ask Miss Ellis for a walk, or a picnic, like the others?”

Luke stared at the ceiling. He had been thinking about Miss Ellis almost constantly since the first morning when he had come across her praying before sunrise. What kind of a woman broke rules to pray?

He had inquired about her casually to some of the people who worked at the mission. He had even talked to a few of the students. They all loved Miss Ellis—but every one of them, even the children, could recall a time when she had been in trouble for one reason or another.

It would be best if he didn’t even contemplate her in his decision.

“I believe I’ve had sufficient conversations with her to know she’s not a good choice for me.”

“Because the Greenfields say so?” John rolled onto his back again. “Give her a chance, Luke. She’s the one to choose.”

The room was shrouded in darkness. A bolt of lightning lit the space for a moment, and then it went back to darkness. Every time he had spoken with Miss Ellis, she had challenged him or made him ponder things he’d never pondered before. If he was honest with himself, he was afraid to spend time with her. He liked her, and if he allowed himself to spend time with her, he might not be able to choose one of the others like he knew he should.

The Greenfields felt Miss Ellis wasn’t ready for marriage, and the last thing he’d want to do was go against their advice.

“You’ll be leaving here in a few days,” John said. “Even if you don’t choose Miss Ellis, the chances of seeing her again are nil. Don’t miss out on an opportunity to get to know her now, before it’s too late.”

Luke lay in the dark for a long time, his thoughts swirling like the storm. He finally closed his eyes, hoping sleep would relieve him of his troubles, but the only thing he could see was Sarah Ellis standing on the porch with her hair flying freely down to her waist.

He finally fell asleep, but dreamed of Miss Ellis walking softly through the prairie grass, her yellow gown looking almost angelic with the sun rising behind her.

The next morning, Sarah sat at the front of the schoolroom, watching her pupils with a keen eye, though her heart beat a heavy tune. Every time she went outside, she glanced to the riverbank, wondering if Mr. Longley had made a decision.

Mr. Beaumont had come to breakfast that morning and told them Mr. Longley would be fishing for the rest of the day.

As the hours wore on, Sarah became convinced he would not select her. She watched Hazel, Mary, and Genevieve go about their business with the same apprehension she felt. They were short-tempered with one another, and even the children felt the tension, glancing up at them in surprise when they spoke harshly.

Mr. Longley had not returned by supper. Sarah felt so tense, she decided to saddle a horse and go for a ride. She needed to leave the mission, and the ladies, behind.

She had spent hours on horseback in the months since coming to Belle Prairie. Mr. Greenfield owned two horses, and he had said they could ride whenever they liked. Sarah rode often, because there was little trouble she could cause from the back of a horse.

She told Mrs. Greenfield she was leaving, and she went to the barn where she saddled Sam, the gentle bay gelding she had come to love.

They left the mission behind, and Sam took the familiar trail along the riverbanks. Sarah didn’t direct the horse away from the trail, because part of her wanted to check on Mr. Longley, even if from a distance, to ensure he was all right. She had packed a sandwich and a jar of cool water in case she came across him.

She went north, thinking he would choose a fishing hole he had seen on his way downriver from Red Lake. She and Sam hadn’t gone far when she spotted Mr. Longley sitting on the riverbank, his Bible in hand.

Before she could turn back, he saw her and rose from the ground. “Miss Ellis.” He had removed his sack coat and waistcoat, and had rolled up his sleeves. His tie was also removed and his top button undone. He looked relaxed… and terribly handsome.

She reached for the bag she wore around her shoulder. “I brought you something to eat and drink. You missed all three meals today.”

He looked to the sky, as if to judge the time. “Is it that late already?”

Sarah dismounted and secured Sam’s reins to a small maple tree nearby. “I was beginning to worry about you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

She reached inside the bag and removed the sandwich and water. “It’s not much.”

He took them from her and indicated where he had been sitting. “Would you care to join me?”

“I should go back. I don’t want to interrupt you—I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

She turned to Sam and put her left foot in the stirrup.

“Please don’t go.”

Sarah lowered her foot and looked over her shoulder. He stood holding her offerings, his eyes inviting.

“All right.”

She sat next to him on the grass, her gaze on the meandering river before them. “Have you had any luck fishing?”

“I haven’t even tried.”

“I thought—”

“I meant to fish, but I spent most of the day reading my Bible and praying.” He unwrapped the sandwich. “I also took a long nap. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

That made two of them.

Chapter 12

L
uke hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he bit into the venison sausage sandwich Miss Ellis had brought for him. The gamey flavor of the meat reminded him of the wild land they inhabited.

Miss Ellis sat silently beside him, her gaze on the river. The blue sky reflected on the calm waters of the Mississippi, while puffy white clouds drifted lazily overhead, and a lone bald eagle soared on the wind.

“Thank you for the sandwich.”

She finally turned to him, and he was reminded of how open and honest her face appeared that first evening they had met.

“Have you had a chance to think?” she asked.

Her question surprised him, but he nodded, amazed at how comfortable he felt talking with her. “I have.”

She pulled her feet up and rested her elbows on her knees. “What did you think about?”

“My father.”

She didn’t say anything, and he appreciated the space she gave him to pull his thoughts together.

“My father is a minister,” he said. “I grew up under the watchful eyes of my parents, as well as an entire congregation. If I so much as moved right, when I should have moved left, I was reprimanded. It’s no wonder I became rebellious in college. Eventually my grades suffered, and I got into so much trouble, my parents were called to meet with the president.” He shook his head. “My father didn’t even have to say anything. The look of disappointment was all I needed to see. But he did pull me aside to tell me I had brought shame to the Longley name.”

He swallowed the pain he still felt from that moment. “I would rather die than bring him shame again.” That’s why he had worked so hard to please his father from that day forward. “I came west because I couldn’t stay under his watchful eye any longer—but I find I still care too much what he thinks of me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with caring what our parents think of us,” she said. “We just need to make sure we care more about what God thinks of us.”

He thought about her words for a moment as he studied her face. All day, he had tried to push her out of his thoughts, but he couldn’t. He had tried to convince himself that he knew enough about her to make his decision, but he had been wrong. He didn’t know nearly enough.

Maybe it was time he stopped worrying about what the Greenfields thought and get to know Sarah on his own—and the best place to start was at the beginning. “Where did you grow up?”

“Huntington, Connecticut.” She toyed with the cuff of her dress. “My father owns a small farm there. My mother passed away two years ago, right after my older brother was married and moved to Amherst to minister at a church.”