Heidi Vanlandingham - Lucie: Bride of Tennessee (American Mail-Order Bride 16) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

Lucie
spent most of the day cleaning, her mind constantly thinking about the night before. Sebastian had kissed her! Her heart fluttered like a bird in her chest as she remembered the softness of his lips on hers, the tenderness in his eyes. Thoughts of what might happen tonight had filled her with nervous energy.

Now, however, she was more worried than scared…especially since it had taken her the entire day to clean her new daughter’s room. From her vantage point at the living room window, she watched as her brother sauntered up the walk.

With a smile, he pushed the door closed behind him. “Hi, sissy!”

Giving him a quick hug, she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “How was school?”

“Boring, as usual. Today was a review for the test tomorrow, so we reviewed.”

“Didn’t Stella walk home with you?”

“She was chasing after her friend, Peter, so I came on home.”

“Okay then. Go study for your test. And if you hear screaming, come and rescue me.”

“Huh?” He gave her a quizzical stare.

“I cleaned Stella’s room.”

He shook his head with a rueful grin. “You’re in for it then. She’s not gonna be happy with you.”

Lucie shrugged. “Oh well, she’ll get over it.” As Alex closed his door, she turned and muttered under her breath, “I hope.” A minute later, she heard Stella clomping up the porch stairs.

She’d followed through on her threat from the night before and now had to reap the consequences. She couldn’t help but wish that Sebastian were here to back her up. Without a doubt, Lucie had a very good idea the little girl wasn’t going to like her clean room one bit. But it was the revenge she was worried about.

The screen door squeaked open then slammed behind her while she pretended to wipe the counter. The six-year-old’s worn boots clomped across the wooden floor toward her bedroom. She waited, expecting to hear a scream or worse, but she only heard silence. Frowning, she dropped the rag and peeked into the bedroom.

Standing at the end of her bed, Stella’s wide eyes roamed her spotless room. Her mouth hung open.

Lucie had worked hard most of the morning and into the afternoon, washing clothes, folding and putting them in the small armoire. Then she’d washed the bedsheets, which looked as if they hadn’t seen the washtub in months.

After remaking the bed and placing a pretty china doll with a dark green silk dress against the pillow, she gathered up the rest of the books, dolls, and guns. Those items, she placed in the storage bottom of the window seat in hers and Sebastian’s bedroom.

“My room is so beautiful!” Stella turned her wide brown eyes to her. “You did all this today?

“Yes.” The young girl was adorable, with her face all scrunched up as she waited for Lucie’s answer. “Do you like it?”

Stella’s gaze traveled around the room again. “I never knew it could be so nice. Can you teach me to do this too?” She shook her head, her ponytails swishing her ears. “It bothered me—the house and my room being messy, but papa didn’t seem upset. I don’t know how to clean.”

Lucie walked over and sat down on the end of the bed, putting herself on the same level. “It is much easier to pick up a few things every day than a bunch of things once a year.”

Stella giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her very dirty hand.

“We can do what my mother did when I was your age. Would you like that?”

“You were my age?”

It was Lucie’s turn to giggle. “Yes I was, believe it or not, and my mother insisted on everything being spotless, including myself. Since I took care of all the hard stuff today, let’s concentrate on cleaning you this evening.”

Her scowl returned. “I hate taking showers.”

“Hmmm, well I would have to agree with you there. I think it would be awfully cold standing naked under droplets of water, even if they were warm. So, you can do what I love doing. I take a bath—and I will even let you use my special soap.”

Her scowl deepened. “What’s so special about soap?”

“Mine smells like a field of flowers. Lavender.”

“Will I like it?”

“I think you will. Would you like to smell it first and then decide?”

Stella thought a moment then nodded. “All right. If I like it, can I take a bath before dinner? I want to smell pretty for papa.”

“Deal.”

She ran from her room toward the bathroom. When Lucie walked into the hallway, Alex’s door opened and he stuck his head out.

“That was a complete surprise. You worked a miracle, sissy!”

She smiled and tweaked his chin. “Life is looking up a bit more. After giving her a bath, I’ll have to start on dinner, which terrifies me more than fighting Stella.”

He gave her a half-hearted shrug and stepped back to close the door. “If you need me, I’ll be practicing my penmanship.”

Stella had already undressed and was standing in the tub with the water running. Lucie stuck her hand underneath the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. “Perfect. Now, for my special soap.” She lifted the small soap dish off the shelf and held it down for the little girl to sniff.

Stella hesitated, her head cocked to one side and her lips pursed, then leaned forward and sniffed. Her eyes widened. “It really does smell like a field of flowers! I like lavender too!”

The next thirty minutes was an adventure to say the least, with all the splashing and laughing she’d done. Lucie glanced down at her dress, rubbing her palms over the large damp splotches, then turned her gaze back to the tub. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you left more dirt in the bottom of this tub than I could find outside.”

Stella giggled and pulled her brush through her wet hair. “You’re just funnin’ me, aren’t you? There’s bunches more dirt outside.”

She walked up behind her, her hands on her hips. “Would you like for me to help?”

Stella handed her the brush.

“How would you like me to fix your hair?” she asked.

The little girl shrugged. “I dunno. Papa can’t make my hair pretty like yours.”

She turned her around and knelt in front of her. “Do you trust me?”

Stella stared, unblinking, for a few seconds then nodded. “Grandma Martha says you’re a good person and that I should give you a chance. That you’ve never had a daughter just like I’ve never had a mama.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and her nose burned as Lucie held her breath.

“I trust you, Lucie.”

With a bit of squirming from Stella, she finally managed to get the girl’s fine brown hair up into a curly ponytail. After trying on several different dresses, they found one that still fit. With her arms on Stella’s small shoulders, she walked her to the large dressing mirror in the corner of her room.

Stella’s mouth dropped as she twisted and turned in front of the mirror. “You made me pretty!” She turned and clasped her hands around the back of Lucia’s knees then just as quickly turned back around and stared at her reflection again. “Can I go to school like this too?”

“Of course you can! I would love to help you with your hair in the mornings, and picking out nice dresses. You can look like this all the time if that’s what you want.”

Stella cocked her head to one side, swishing the curly ends of her ponytail around. “What about riding horses? And chasing foxes?”

Lucie fought back the smile and tried to keep a serious, thoughtful look on her face, which was almost impossible as Stella continued to make the ponytail bob up and down. “Well, maybe your father would let us buy you some special clothes for when you know you’re going to get dirty. But not little boy clothes. You’re not a little boy.”

Stella’s brows puckered together. “No, I’m not. I’m a girl.” She bounced over to her bed and crawled on top of the quilt and pulled her reader out from her lunch pail. “I’m gonna sit right here so papa can see how pretty I am when he gets home.”

Lucie let the smile she’d been trying to hide break free and spread across her face until her cheeks ached. “I think that’s a marvelous idea.” She picked up the towel and hung it over one arm. “Now I need to get supper started.”

* * *

Lucie was proud of herself. The chicken was turning brown, popping and sizzling in the hot grease, and the peas and potatoes were simmering on the back burners of the small stove. She even had a peach cobbler baking in the oven.

She spread a pretty green damask tablecloth over the table then set four place settings. She had almost finished filling the glasses with tea when the potatoes started boiling over. Grabbing a dishrag, she hurried over to the stove and, reaching over the chicken, picked up the lid.

Without warning, the grease caught fire. She jerked her arm away from the growing flames, but water from the inside of the lid fell into the boiling grease with a loud hiss then splattered everywhere. When her sleeve burst into flames, she dropped the lid with a scream and

raced to the sink where she dunked her arm into the tub of water she’d used earlier to wash dishes. The soapy water burned her singed skin. 

  “Lucie!” Alex yelled and raced across the room where he picked up the lid she’d thrown on the floor and dropped it over the high flames. Turning to her, he pulled her arm from the bowl. With sudsy water dripping from her elbow, he gently picked at the burned material, pulling it away from her skin.

He let out a relieved sigh. “Doesn’t look too bad. It’s really pink but there’s no blisters. Least, not yet.” He grimaced. “But your blouse is ruined.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she could feel the slight shaking of his body as he clutched her tightly to him. Rubbing his back, she kissed the top of his head. “Alex, what’s wrong? It was only a small accident. You said my arm was fine.”

Sniffing a couple of times, his thin arms held on tight to her waist. “I know, but what if something bad had happened?” He raised his tear-stained face. “You’re all I’ve got left, sissy.”

She wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. And you’re not alone anymore. We have a new family now.” A movement caught her eye and she turned to see Stella’s pale face staring at them, her little chin trembling as she clutched the reader to her chest. With a quick wave of her hand, Lucie smiled, and Stella ran across the room, throwing her little body against theirs.

“Lucie’s right, Alex. You have me and papa and Grandma Martha now.” She patted her little hand on the small of his back. “I’m your sister now, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Lucie closed her eyes, as both pain and happiness swamped her. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly. Stella’s innocent words flooded her heart and her own fear disappeared. “Okay, let’s get my arm bandaged and see if we can salvage any of the supper.”

Chapter Twelve

Sebastian walked into the house and immediately smelled the acrid odor of burned grease. “Lucie!” He hurried through the living room and almost skidded around the corner to see her pouring the potato chunks into a large bowl. There was a hole in the sleeve of her blouse, the material curled and blackened. “What happened?”

Before she could answer, Stella’s small voice announced, “She almost burned the house down, papa! You should have seen how high the fire was!” She giggled, racing across the room to him. He stared, dumbfounded, at her as she ran toward him. His daughter was wearing a clean dress, and her blonde hair had been pulled back in a ponytail and curled.

She stood in front of him and twirled around, stopping with a huge smile on her face. “Look at me, papa! Don’t I look pretty?”

He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her up against his chest.

“I smell like a field of flowers too.”

He sniffed in the tender area where her neck met her shoulders and she jerked away, laughing. “You smell like Lucie.”

“She let me use her special soap.”

He met Lucie’s tender gaze over his daughter’s head. He didn’t know what to say. In one day, his new wife had managed to turn his daughter into a little girl. When he’d left this morning, he’d imagined the worst. That he would come home to a furious six-year-old. Instead, he was greeted by a very happy little girl.

He set her down and patted her behind. “Go wash your hands for supper while I talk to Lucie.” Stella skipped toward the bathroom.

Before Lucie could lift the bowl to carry it to the table, he reached for her arm and stopped her, gently removing the bandage she’d wrapped around the burn. The skin underneath was bright pink and raw. In several places, the flesh had raised into blisters.

“I managed to save most of the chicken,” she said in a whisper. “But it’s a little black. And I can’t promise the vegetables are soft enough. The peach cobbler, though, is perfect.”

He nodded, trying to contain the painful squeezing in his chest. He carefully rewrapped her arm, his stomach replaced by a large stone. “Dinner will have to wait, I’m afraid. Doc Brown needs to take a look at your arm.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really.”

“We can eat at the hotel and afterward, come back here for your delicious cobbler.” He turned her around and walked with his hands on her shoulders, pushing her through the house. “Stella! Alex! Grab your jackets! We need to take Lucie to see Doc Brown.”

He didn’t want her wound to worsen any more than it already had, so he hitched up the horses to the carriage, but as she walked by him, he pulled her to him, holding her as tight as he dared. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair. He forced himself to let her go and helped her up into the carriage and
drove as fast as he dared to Doc Brown’s small house. His insides felt as slippery as a fish and his heart rate was too fast. He had to touch her, reassure himself she was really okay, and covered her small hand with his. He gently squeezed her fingers. He had to wonder, though, if he did it for her reassurance or his…

“We’ll be there soon,” he told her, not liking the quietness surrounding them. Not even the children were talking like they usually did. He lifted the hand holding the horse’s reins and pointed to a small white house at the end of the street. “That’s Doc Brown’s place. His office is off to one side of the house while he and his wife live in the other part.”

“That’s convenient. I bet Mrs. Brown doesn’t have to wonder when her husband will get home.”

The churning in his stomach stilled as her words sunk in then the faithless organ ramped up its activity. “About that…I’m sorry I’ve been so absent. It hasn’t been fair to you, and I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies.” He stared at her surprised face, his eyes drawn to her moist lips.

Forcing his attention away, he glanced back at the children, sitting side by side in the back seat of the carriage. Sebastian smiled at Alex, his arm wrapped protectively around Stella, and some of the worry faded from the boy’s eyes. “Your sister’s going to be okay, I just don’t want to take a chance with infection.” He gave the twelve-year-old a sharp nod and winked at Stella.

“You’re not foolin’ us, are you papa? Lucie’s really going to be okay?” she asked in a small voice.

“I’m not fooling. Promise. After the doc takes a quick look at her, we’ll go to the hotel for dinner.”

Stella bounced up and stood, gripping the back of their seat with her hands. “Can Grandma—”

“Sit down, please.”

She dutifully plopped back onto the seat, this time with some space between her and Alex. “Can Grandma Martha eat with us too?”

“Of course she can. You can even go get her.”

She clapped her hands together several times and giggled. “Now she’s gonna see how pretty I look too!”

He stopped in front of the doc’s house and helped Lucie down from the carriage. Pulling her to his side, protecting her bad arm with his body, he led her to the side door and knocked. He waited impatiently for the door to open.

“Maybe he had to go take care of someone?” Lucie asked, her soft voice soothing some of his agitation.

“Usually his wife will answer.” He knocked again, hard enough that the door bounced underneath the force of his heavy fist.

Lucie chuckled. “Well, if they didn’t hear that, the neighbors probably did.”

The door opened and a soft yellow light spilled out over them, illuminating the large silhouette of Doc Brown. “Sorry about the wait, McCord, but the wife had just served dessert.” He winked at Lucie and the children standing beside her. “Chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk.” He opened the door and ushered them in. “So, what can I do for you?”         

Sebastian placed his hand in the small of Lucie’s back and moved her toward the doctor, his other hand holding her injured arm. “She burned herself cooking chicken, and I thought you should probably look at it. Infection, you know.”

Doc Brown nodded. “Nothin’ to sniff at, especially with grease. Keeps cookin’ the skin.” He cradled Lucie’s arm in his large hand and carefully unwrapped the bandage. The blistered areas had indeed gotten bigger, and the skin was inflamed and weeping. “Mmm-hmm.”

He adjusted his spectacles on his nose and led her to the lamp on his desk. “Mmm-hmm. Yes, my dear, you burned it but good.” He walked over to a short white cabinet and pulled out a narrow glass bottle with a thick, dark brown substance.

He jerked the glass stopper from the bottle’s neck, the rubber seal sliding out with a loud
pop
, and poured small amounts over the worst of the blistered areas. He replaced the stopper and handed the bottle to Sebastian, who dropped it into his coat pocket.

Lucie raised her arm and sniffed the substance. She glanced at Sebastian then Alex and Stella, all looking at her with curious expressions on their faces. She narrowed her gaze at the doctor. “Honey?”

Doc Brown nodded, his mouth turning up on one side. “Now, this is going to seem a mite strange, but I want you to keep the injured skin covered with honey for several days. On the evening of the third day, gently wash it all off and any dead skin and place a piece of moldy bread over the burn, keeping it bandaged of course. When the wound starts scabbing over, you can take the gauze off.”

Lucie took a step back and walked into Sebastian, whose hands wrapped around her hips. “You want me to wrap moldy bread on an open wound? I’m going to lose my arm that way!”

Doc Brown shook his head. “Those Egyptian doctors more than a thousand years ago knew a thing or two about healing. Smart men. In my opinion, they were much smarter than we are today. I can’t tell you why it works, it just does.” 

Sebastian lowered his head, breathing in the faint hint of lavender from Lucie’s hair. Even when he wasn’t around her, he could still smell her fresh scent, as if it had soaked into his very skin. His fingers pressed against her hipbones as he held her close. He liked the way she felt against him.

He met the doc’s knowing gaze. Ignoring his friend, and knowing there would be many questions the next time they met for a drink, he asked, “What do I owe you?”

Doc Brown waved the suggestion away with a flick of his meaty hand. “A nice dinner at that restaurant of yours one of these days would be payment enough for me and the missus.” He walked to his desk and held out a candy-filled jar to the children and wiggled the stick candy against the clear glass. “I have lemon, butterscotch, and honey. Take your pick.”

With eyes wide, they glanced first at Lucie then Sebastian who gave them a single nod. Almost reverently, they leaned their small faces over the jar and stared at the treats. Alex reached in and pulled out the rich, yellow butterscotch and immediately stuck it in his back pocket.

Stella chose the honey. Tightly clasped in her hand, she pressed her fist against her chest. Tilting her head at an angle, she grinned up at Lucie. “Now I have honey like you do.”

Lucie returned the smile, and Sebastian’s heart stuttered then roared back to life as he stared at his wife. Her face was relaxed, without any of the fear and stress he was so used to seeing. Her large green eyes sparkled, her happiness transforming her from pretty to beautiful.

He dropped his hands and stepped back, pulling in a shaky breath. He didn’t like how his body was reacting to her, almost convincing himself that this was simply a minor complication. He didn’t like how his heart ached at the thought of losing her.

He couldn’t afford to think about how it felt to kiss her lips or the feel of her silky hair against his skin. He wasn’t going to go all soft every time she smiled…or made his daughter’s eyes light up.

* * *

Lucie had never felt so confused and overwhelmed in her entire life. She wanted Sebastian to touch her again and at the same time, she didn’t. She wanted him to look at her again and see the way his dark brown eyes softened into melted chocolate. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her hips, her skin burning from the heat of his palms.

She knew she couldn’t fool herself anymore. She’d already been halfway in love with Sebastian when she married him. The way he’d been so attentive and conscientious of her arm…well, his reaction was the last thing she’d expected. Annoyance and anger maybe, but she’d seen a softer side of him. She wanted to see that side of him again.

At the hotel, Sebastian pulled out her chair and as soon as she sat, scooted her closer to the table. She met her brother’s smirk with a quick frown. Raising the cool glass to her lips, she hoped no one noticed the slight trembling of her hand as she drank the water.

“What’s this about Lucie being hurt again?” Martha’s said in a breathy voice as she hurried around the table toward her.

Lucie chuckled. “It’s nothing. Just a little burn.”

Stella giggled. “She almost burned the house down!”

Alex scowled at her. “No she didn’t.” He snickered. “Just the kitchen.”

She let out a frustrated groan. “I did no such thing. It was only a small grease fire—”

“That burned your arm,” Sebastian growled. “It had already worsened by the time I got you to Doc Brown’s. There was nothing small or inconsequential about it. A fire like that could have been a lot worse.”

Martha stepped back staring at them, her nostrils flaring a tiny bit as her gaze moved from her son to Lucie then back to Sebastian. “Well then,” She sat between Alex and Stella. “If Doc Brown is taking care of her, then she’s in good hands.” She smiled at Stella and tickled the little girl’s ribs. “And don’t you look pretty!”

Stella’s little face beamed at the compliment. “Lucie told me I could dress like this for
school
! And she’s going to help me make my hair pretty like hers.” Stella’s gaze jumped to Lucie’s. “Didn’t you?”

“I most certainly did.” She met Martha’s shimmering gaze.

“Thank you,” Martha mouthed to her.

It didn’t take any of them long to finish their meals, and she couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had even tasted their food. She knew she hadn’t. Staring down at her empty plate, she couldn’t remember what she’d even eaten.

Several times during dinner, Sebastian’s arm or hand had touched hers, causing her insides to jitter. He made her feel warm. Safe. And she hadn’t felt safe since her father had died.

“I have a wonderful solution for your meal dilemmas, Lucie,” Martha said. “I know a woman who needs a bit of rescuing herself. Her husband recently died and her son moved to Texas, so she’s been all alone.” She glanced at Sebastian. “You know the small house that burned last week? The Smith’s place close to Lookout Mountain? ” She didn’t wait for his response. “Well, that was her home. She wasn’t hurt but lost all of her possessions and simply doesn’t have the money to find a new place.”

He sighed, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and tucked it under his dinner plate. “Mother, what does this have to do with our supposed meal dilemmas, which I don’t believe we even have?”

Lucie cautiously laid her hand on his arm, her cheeks warming under his intent gaze. “I’m sorry, Sebastian, but Martha’s right. I can’t cook—at least dishes other than porridge and desserts.” She quickly pulled her hand away when his brows bunched together. She lowered her head and, for a moment, closed her eyes. “My mother and stepmother died before they could teach me.”