This is Diana Hale?
Caleb knew he was staring like an idiot, but it was taking his brain longer to catch up with what he was seeing. This had to be a mistake.
He placed his hands on Amanda’s shoulders when she stepped back and leaned against him, and Caleb couldn’t stop staring. Had he received someone else’s letter?
No. It was signed by Diana Hale and this woman just answered to that name.
Shaking himself, he tried to keep the shock from his face and smiled. “It's nice to meet you, Diana.” He looked down at Amanda and gave her shoulders a light squeeze. “This is my daughter, Amanda.”
The smile on her face was a cross between forced and nervous, and he guessed it was probably both. Heavens knew he was feeling out of sorts at the moment. He’d been expecting to tie himself to a tall, dour-looking woman until the day he died. The beauty before him was anything but. The word angel popped into his head. She was certainly that—an angel with long dark hair, an ivory complexion, pouty pink lips, and eyes so blue they appeared violet.
He cleared his throat when neither of them said anything and let go of the tight grip he now had on Amanda’s shoulders. “Is that one trunk all you have?”
She nodded before turning to the trunk by her feet. “Yes, just that one.”
He searched the sidewalk and saw Grady Rowe headed their way. When the boy was close enough, he made arrangements for him to take Diana’s trunk to the house.
Grady grabbed Howie Andrews to help carry it, both of the boys turning red in the face as they lifted the cumbersome luggage. It must be heavier than it looked.
Turning his attention back to Diana, he straightened and offered her another smile. “The house is this way.” He nodded down the street with his head and was about to tell her to follow him when Amanda ran over and grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the sidewalk.
Caleb walked behind them, glad he didn't have to talk to her yet. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact this woman was to be his wife and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d had no intention of making Diana Hale a proper wife and her letter stated she wasn’t all that concerned about it either, so a marriage in name only was mutually beneficial to them both, but how in the world was he supposed to ignore her? How could he sleep at night knowing she was in his house—in his bed—and their marriage was nothing but a declaration written on a piece of paper? They’d agreed to not even consummate it. No one would be the wiser, he’d said, which meant no questions about the legitimacy of their nuptials. It gave them both an out if at some point in the future they wanted to part ways, but how could he do that now that he’d seen her?
He ran a hand over his face, pushing the thoughts away. He’d not sent away for a wife for anything other than someone to help at home and to teach his daughter how to be a proper lady, and Diana being so—stunning—didn’t change any of that. It would just make living with her harder because, like it or not, his future bride made him wish he could take back all the requirements he’d requested and turn the sham of a marriage he’d requested into the real deal.
Chapter 3
The house the girl—Amanda—took her to had whitewashed plank siding and a porch that ran the entire length of the front. A rock chimney blew a cloud of smoke into the air and Rebecca knew there was a fire burning inside, which meant it was more than likely warm.
Amanda opened the door and held it for her. The smile on the girl’s face was so big Rebecca knew her being there had made the girls' day. Why, she wasn’t sure yet.
“It’s about time.”
Rebecca turned to the sound of the voice. An older woman sat by the window in a chair unlike any she’d seen before. It was high backed but sat on large wheels instead of legs. Wrinkles marred the woman's weathered face and her hair was as white as the snow still falling outside.
Their gazes locked and the old lady's eyes widened for a moment, her mouth forming a perfect, “O,” before she blinked and glanced over Rebecca’s shoulder. The sound of the door shutting behind her made her turn her head. The man—she still didn't know his name—was watching her in the same strange way as the old woman was.
Traveling with Hazel, Rebecca had heard nothing from the girl other than how she couldn't wait to meet her groom. Rebecca had thought she was touched in the head. She’d have to be if she was looking forward to marrying a complete stranger. He could have been a deranged murderer for all the girl knew, who was just waiting for her to arrive to do away with her. Hazel had laughed when Rebecca told her as much, but the thought hadn’t been so easily ignored. Fear Diana Hale was someone’s mail-order bride had worried her for most of the trip. She’d planned on high tailing it out of where ever it was she ended up just in case some strange man was waiting there for her expecting to get married, but one look at this man had left her so speechless, she’d forgotten to run away. Now, here she was, in his house, pretending to play the blushing bride for him. She just hoped he didn’t expect her to cook and clean. She didn’t have the first clue how to do either.
The old woman cleared her throat, drawing Rebecca’s attention. “Well, let’s get a good look at ya.” The shocked expression on her face was gone now, replaced by a smile that made her eyes twinkle. She grabbed the wheels on her chair and gave them a push, the thing moving enough she was no longer facing the window.
She gave her a once over, her head bobbing as she continued to smile. “You look a lot younger than I imagined. The sea air on the coast must be good for the skin.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to say—what, she had no idea—but closed it with a snap when the old woman continued with, “Not that it matters.”
She wheeled herself to the middle of the room and sat back in her chair. “I’m Agatha Reilly, Caleb’s mother.” The woman glanced over her shoulder again, looking at her son, she assumed, and Rebecca said the name Caleb to herself several times so she didn’t forget it.
Someone knocked on the door. The boys carrying her trunk were on the porch when Caleb opened it, both of their faces red. He showed them down the hall and Rebecca took in the parts of the house she could see. It was modest but so toasty warm it could have been a one-room shack and she would have loved it.
The sitting room had a long sofa and several chairs stuffed so full of whatever they stuffed into furniture that the chairs looked fat and comfortable.
A doorway behind her led to the kitchen. She saw another door leading outside along the back wall. A hallway led to what she assumed were bedrooms and as she took it all in, she realized she was finally going to be able to say she had a home. She had to bite her lip to keep from grinning like a loon.
“What’s it like in Charleston?”
Agatha's voice pulled Rebecca from her musings. She focused on her again and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s big. Crowded. Full of rich people.”
Agatha laughed. “I would imagine so.” She straightened the shawl laying over her legs. “What does the ocean look like? I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“Blue—for as far as the eye can see. The air smells of salt and the birds linger around the shore and fill the air as they dive into the surf to grab small fish.”