The Marriage Bargain

“I’m coming back to the shop to get started on the repairs.”

“Thank you for being so eager. I’m going to have to work harder than ever to get ready to open.”

“Just don’t try burning the candle at both ends.”

“Very funny.” She gave a tiny giggle. Then, in a fashion he could only imagine a cactus flower able to perform, her prickly expression transformed into beauty with a smile like none he’d ever seen. Golden hair framed her face. Vibrant blue eyes sought him out. His heart jolted. Nothing could lessen the power of her grace.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? She was beautiful all right. A rare beauty. But gentle and graceful? Not with the sharp tongue and feisty resistance he’d witnessed in the short time he’d known her.

Lily Warren might be named after a gentle spring flower, but her cactus-like thorns could prove dangerous, if not deadly, to a man not on his guard.

And Edward Stone was a man who would not let his guard down. Ever again.

“Possum run over your grave?”

“What?” He had to pay better attention.

“You’re shaking your head and shivering.” Lily’s expression teased him, but he wouldn’t tease back.

“No. Just a bad thought.” He turned away from her and continued down the sidewalk. “Nothing to worry about.” He’d make certain of that.

Lily picked up her pace and left him to follow. When they arrived at the shop, she opened the door, and the bell announcing their arrival clanged to the floor and bounced.

She sighed. “Great. Something else to be fixed.”

“Be careful not to break anything else.”

Her eyes widened in question. “Oh, so that’s my fault? I see. Looks like our relationship will be one of blame and accusation.” The smile was there again, but Edward was determined to thwart its power.

“Our relationship will be landlord and tenant.” He stooped to retrieve the broken bell from just inside the doorway. “And the fault of this was mine, so I’ll be responsible for the repair.”

“You think it can be fixed?” Her uncertain gaze met his.

“Sure. It’s a simple repair.” He turned the bell over in his hand. “I should have made it stronger in the first place.”

Blond brows lifted. “You made it?” Disbelief crossed her face.

“Don’t look so surprised. I am a blacksmith.”

“I’m sorry. The blacksmith in East River made horseshoes and wagon wheels. Not art.”

Was she complimenting him? Did she realize it?

“I make horseshoes and wagon wheels, too. And iron gates, and farm tools...”

“I understand. Sort of a jack-of-all-trades, are you?”

“Are you suggesting I’m master of none?”

“Well, the bell did break...” Her smile was the only clue she was teasing him. Tormenting might be a better word, given the tightening of his gut when she looked at him.

“I wouldn’t call myself an artisan. But I do enjoy creating unique things.” He drifted into the past looking at the bell. It had been a gift for his sister, Jane. One she’d never taken the time to enjoy.

A swift movement had the bell in his pocket. Hidden with the memories it evoked.

When he raised his eyes, he found Lily staring with open curiosity.

“I best get to work, Miss Warren.” He stepped into the center of the room. The late-morning sun lit the street beyond the deep windows. Windows Jane had dreamed of filling with pastries and cakes.

Lily breezed through the opening, which led from the large front room into a work area, with a lightness he’d never seen in any woman. If he’d had to describe it, he’d say her steps floated across the floor.

He followed her, and together they came up with a plan for the repairs. He would tear out anything damaged beyond repair. She proved a strong helper by toting all the charred boards out to the alley behind the shop.

They stopped at midday, and he made a list of the supplies he’d need to get the shop back in good shape.

He prepared to leave. “I’ll stop by the lumber mill and order what I need before I go to the general store. I’ll get a quick bite of lunch and come back.”

“What about your coat?” she asked.

“That’s why I’m going to the general store.”

“Let me come with you so I can pay for it. You wouldn’t need a coat if there hadn’t been a fire.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“I insist.”

Edward turned to look her full in the face. “Miss Warren, what do you think Mrs. Croft would think of that? After all she insinuated last night?”

Lily’s cheeks went pink.

He looked over his shoulder out the front window. “I’ll bring my wagon when I come back. We can use it to haul away the debris.”

“I can help with that.” She was unlike any other woman of her type, and Edward was impressed by how determined she was to help. At first glance, she gave the appearance of a lady accustomed to fine things. But she hadn’t shied away from any of the work brought on by the damage from the fire.

“No, ma’am.” He still wouldn’t let her help load the rubble piled in the alley.

Lily smiled. “You must be as strong as an ox.” Shock covered her face almost before the words left her mouth.

“I can haul my share of a load.” He couldn’t resist teasing her. As hard as he tried, his reserve kept slipping. “Most people don’t call me an ox.”

“Maybe not to your face, Mr. Stone.” At least she had the decency to blush when she said it.

Edward heard the rumble of laughter in his chest. It had been a long time since he’d laughed out loud. “I’ll be back after lunch.” He tipped his hat and escaped through the front door.

He sobered immediately on seeing Mrs. Croft exit the post office next door. Her scowl spoke louder than anything she could have said before she turned and walked in the direction of her store.

Dust stirred in the street as his boots beat a path away from Lily Warren and her shop. He’d only rented it to her father out of desperation. The mortgage on the shop needed to be paid, not to mention the cost of providing for Ellen. He couldn’t afford to let the shop stand empty any longer. When Jane came back, they’d make new arrangements. Until—or unless—she did, he needed the money.