Last Chance Bride

“You said your Emma needed a mother. I thought—” She stopped. “I don’t understand.”

Jacob closed his heart against memories sharp enough to tear him apart. “I want you to know this right from the start. I want there to be no misunderstandings between us, only honesty. You will be my wife in name only. Not in my heart and not in my bed.”

Elizabeth Hodges glanced up at him, white as snow. Guilt tore through him. How did he tell her what Mary’s death did to him? Every day had been a battle, from morning until late at night, living without her. He would never give his heart again. Not even to a pretty, slender woman with eyes as blue as morning glories.

“But what about children?” A tiny wrinkle frowned across her forehead, half hidden by the scatters of wheat blond curls escaping from beneath her bonnet.

“I have one child too many.” Tiny, helpless dependent creatures who could steal a man’s heart. He couldn’t bear that. “I wanted you to know how it is with me right up front. I never meant to deceive you.”

“You could have told me.” She stared hard at the old reticule clutched in her lap. “I know you are widowed. I understand it might take time to finish grieving, even to build a relationship between us.”

“That isn’t what I want.”

Beneath the starkness in those gray eyes, Libby caught sight of a kindness, a decency that gave her pause.

Jacob Stone possessed the integrity she had so hoped he might have. She imagined he failed to speak of the death of his wife in his letters because of deep personal pain, but he did so now for the sake of honesty. She respected him for that, even if it left her alone and ashamed. Hadn’t she considered deceiving him?

Then he stood, the starkness gone from his eyes and a gentle softness shaping his mouth. He held out one big hand, strong and callused from honest work, and she gave him hers. Her belly twisted, low and pleasant.

“Let’s see about getting you a room.”

Jacob helped her to her feet, and Libby could not stop the awareness trickling through her. Her fingertips tingled long after he’d released her hand.

She needed to marry and she wanted him for her husband. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw a good and decent man still hurting from his wife’s death. How could she deceive him? How could she tell him the truth?

Chapter Two

Libby waited patiently while Jacob checked her into the hotel, surprising her by paying ahead for the entire week. He stood solemnly, counting out bills.

Every worried knot inside her unraveled. He was an admirable man. Strong. Dependable. He was a man strong enough to be tender.

Last winter she had nearly dropped her newspaper at the sight of the advertisement. “Lonely widower seeks kindhearted woman for mother to six-year-old daughter.” Just the sight of those words gave her hope; a hope she needed so desperately. Kind. Wife. Mother. Images of a family fell into her mind like the snow from the sky outside the boarding house window.

She had hoped he would never have to know. Honesty. He wanted honesty between them.

“I’ll take her bags,” Jacob said in his low, rumbling voice that skidded down her spine like warm water.

Libby watched him thank the desk clerk. He was wellspoken and polite; she liked that. He ambled toward her, sure and powerful, and the sight of him made her stomach twist.

She followed him up the stairs and into the first room on the second floor. With every step she took, Libby knew she had to be honest with Jacob Stone. He deserved the truth.

He set the bags on the foot of the bed, and she closed the door. A question lit his gray eyes.

“You were honest with me,” she said, clenching her hands together. She didn’t want him to see how she trembled. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

“I see.” He straightened, a wariness creeping into his face. “So, I’m not the only one with secrets.”

“No.” Libby squared her shoulders and met his unflinching gaze. What she had to say would not be easy. “As you suspect I am not an innocent.”

He neither grimaced nor judged her. Jacob Stone merely dipped his head slightly as he answered. “That does not matter to me.”

“Good, because there’s more.” She would tell him the truth, and he would leave. Libby stared hard at the plank floor. “I don’t know, I mean, I’m not certain.”

It’s too early to tell.

“You don’t want to marry me?” he asked.

She looked up into eyes filled with concern. His concern for her. She didn’t want to say what followed. Best to just blurt it out. “I could be pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

“I’m not certain,” Libby hedged. He’s going to leave me.

But Jacob Stone said nothing. He stared down at his large, empty hands. Libby stood motionless, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She thought of Emma and that big sparkle of hope in the girl’s blue eyes.

“This is unexpected news.” He spoke slowly, as if carefully weighing his words. “After all, we have been corresponding.”

She could hear his condemnation. “I did not come here thinking I could pawn off another man’s child on you.” Although she had considered not telling him during the overland trip.

“I didn’t think you would.” Jacob Stone faced her, his gaze no longer averted but leveled powerfully on hers. At that moment Libby could not deny the physical strength in the man nor the emotional power she felt with the blast of that gaze. He spoke. “In your letters you led me to understand you had no other prospects for marriage.”

“I have none now,” Libby admitted sadly, feeling her heart drum ever harder in her chest.

“Not even with the man who may have fathered a child with you?” Jacob stepped closer, so close she could see the black flecks of color in his gray eyes and smell the leather and smoke scent of him.

“No.”

“You could have written me about this.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Libby answered honestly. He looked both sad and angry at once with his thick fingers gripping the brim of his hat and his jaw set like stone. He would never understand. “You had the same problem, letting me believe you wanted a real wife.”

He bowed his head. “Yes, I guess that’s true. We’re even then.”

Silence fell between them like sunlight through the windowpanes.

Libby braced herself. “If you decide you no longer have any interest in me, I thoroughly understand, Mr. Stone.”

There, she had said it. Those words had taken more courage than she knew she had.

Jacob Stone cleared his throat and didn’t speak. After a quick glance around the room, he lowered his eyes. Libby watched him, clearly a proper, hardworking and decent man, who had no doubt caught sight of the wide bed in the exact center of the room. A bed she was also aware of.

What must he think of her? She looked at the plain quilted coverlet, once white and already yellowing. Did Jacob Stone look at that bed and wonder what kind of woman she was?

He strode across the small room and tugged open the window. A hot, dry breeze tumbled inside, but it was far from refreshing. The street noise from below blew in with the wind. Libby knew she would never be good enough for him, not now when he knew she had considered deceiving him.

“I never wanted a wife.” He stood before the opened window, sunlight glinting on his dark hair, brightening it, and cast his face in shadow. “I took one look at you and I bolted.”

“You ran?”