Jillian Hart

Mail-Order Holiday Brides


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recognized the silent boy’s plight because they had been there. Elijah’s dark blue eyes riveted to hers, and the steady light of reassurance she read there drove out everything else.

      Yes, his friendship was a surprise blessing. Proof that the good Lord watched over her every step of the way. In gratitude, she bowed her head. Before she closed her eyes she saw Elijah’s broad, capable hand gently catch hold of the boy’s. His fork stilled and he gave one last swallow.

      “Thank you, Father, for the bounty of this meal. We are truly grateful.” Elijah’s deep tone rumbled like a hymn, reverent and earnest. “We are also thankful for the blessing of friends You have placed in our lives. Please let us find ways to help each other according to Your word. Amen.”

      “Amen.” When she opened her eyes, the lamplight flickered more brightly and Elijah seemed to be surrounded with it, bronzed by the golden glow. His goodness shone through. She could see it clearly.

      There is so much good inside of everyone, she reminded herself, thinking of Tom. Sometimes it just takes a while to get to know someone before you can see it. She needed to have faith. Tom had been the only man to answer her letter. She’d answered twenty advertisements that frigid November day when a magazine skidded down the alley she was huddled in, blowing like a leaf in the wind, and came to a stop at her feet. It was all the change she had for postage and paper. And it had led her here, where she was safe and warm with friends. She had to believe that God had brought her here for a reason.

      “My ma taught me to pray.” The boy’s words came raspy, almost like a whisper. His bottom lip trembled as if using all of his courage. “Did your ma teach you?”

      “She did.” Elijah’s answer rippled softly, warm and comfortable. His earnest wish to help the boy touched her. They’d left so much unspoken about the child. The ragged clothes, being too skinny and the haunted look in his wary green eyes all pointed to one simple truth.

      “My older sisters showed me how to steeple my hands and kneel before my bed to pray at night.” Christina found herself answering, longing for what was lost. She plopped a forkful of potatoes on her tongue, so good, so smooth and buttery. That’s when she noticed the boy’s plate was empty. She chewed and swallowed, planning on giving the boy half her food.

      “My ma taught me, too.” Elijah leaned over and slid half his roast beef slices onto the boy’s plate. “She could sing like an angel. She was always humming one hymn or another, especially this time of year.”

      “We celebrated with music, too.” Christina slid her biscuits onto the child’s plate. “We would spend Christmas Eve going through all the carols and hymns we knew, singing along while my adoptive ma accompanied us on her piano.”

      “Did you ever learn to play?” Elijah’s gaze met hers as he slid half of his potatoes from his plate to the child’s.

      “Yes.” The memories warmed her and made what was lost closer. “I’m not nearly as good, but I can pound out a decent hymn or two.”

      “Decent?” He wasn’t fooled. “Something tells me you can play better than that.”

      “I’ll never tell.” Merry chips of periwinkle twinkled in eyes as sweet as blueberries.

      “How is our patient doing?” Doc Frost burst into the room. Elijah had been so absorbed, he hadn’t heard a single footstep approaching. Absorbed by Christina’s beauty, as any man in his right mind would be.

      “His appetite is just fine,” she quipped. In the soft light, her gentle nature shone through. Her rosebud mouth, perfectly made for smiling, curved upward in the corners like a cupid’s bow. “Okay, I really am curious about your name. Just your first one. I can trade my green beans for it.”

      “Green beans?” the boy said. Her joke almost made him smile. “That’s not a very good trade.”

      Her chuckle was like a chime of carillon bells. “Well, I suppose I could give you my dessert.”

      “There’s dessert?” The boy’s eyebrows shot up and he crammed a too-big piece of roast into his mouth.

      “Chocolate cake.” Christina cut a small bite of roast with the side of her fork. “With chocolate icing.”

      “It’s a deal.” The boy swallowed and sat back against the wall. The desperate look around his eyes faded, as he was no longer quite as hungry. “I’m Toby.”

      “It’s nice to meet you, Toby,” she said.

      “Well, Toby, if you don’t mind—” the doctor gestured toward Christina “—I’m going to borrow your new friend for a few minutes. But I promise you, the marshal will see to the doling out of dessert.”

      “I excel at that,” Elijah quipped, sending the doc a grateful nod. “I’m a scrupulous lawman except for when it comes to chocolate cake. I just thought I should give fair warning.”

      “You wouldn’t try to keep a slice for yourself, would you?” Christina rose gracefully, bringing her plate with her.

      “Me? No way. I’d never do anything like that. Never.” He winked, like a man feigning to do otherwise.

      “I’ll have you know, I’m immune to those dimples of yours.” She swept away from him, unaware that he couldn’t take his gaze from her. “Any woman would be mesmerized by them, but not me. So there’s no need to go flashing them.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” He watched her leave the room with a swirl of her skirts. Down the hallway, over the pad of her step, she spoke to the doctor.

      “I’ll find a way to pay you, Doc, I promise you.” Her quiet promise brooked no doubt. “Maybe I could clean your office in trade?”

      “I’m sure we can work something out,” the doctor answered, their voices fading to silence.

      “She’s really nice.” Toby stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. “She’d make a real good ma.”

      “I’m sure she would.” A little arrow of pain speared him. Best not to think about Christina as a mother or as Tom Rutger’s wife. “It’s time you and I had a little talk.”

      “Are you g-gonna arrest me?” Big green eyes widened. Toby glanced from window to door, like a trapped animal ready to bolt. “I didn’t mean it, honest. I wished after I’d done it that I could take it back.”

      “You didn’t mean to startle the horses.” Elijah focused his attention on the kid. Toby shook his head, as if that wasn’t what he’d meant to say. Curious about that, Elijah continued on. “No one else was hurt...no harm was done except for the teamster who had to restack his load.”

      “Oh. I’m real sorry about that, too. So, you ain’t gonna throw me in jail?”

      It was tough to gaze into those worried green eyes and not feel something. It had to be hard being all alone. Elijah couldn’t help caring. “Want to tell me what happened to your folks?”

      “Uh—” Toby focused on the door. He jabbed another hunk of biscuit into his mouth, making it impossible to talk.

      “Let me guess. They passed away.” Elijah cut another bite of roast. “Was it very long ago?”

      “Last year.” Still chewing, Toby hung his head. “We all got sick, Ma, Pa, me and my little brother. I was the only one to get better.”

      “You don’t have anyone looking after you?”

      “Nope.” He speared the last slice of beef on his plate. “After I ran off from the orphanage, I been doin’ okay on my own.”

      “Let me guess. You rode in on one of the trains?”

      “I’ve been riding the rails since summer.” Toby set his fork on his empty plate. “I haven’t got caught before. I run real fast.”

      “Want to tell me why you were running out of the mercantile?”