Page 15 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Fourteen

Val gaped up at him like an idiot.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

By heaven, he had her flustered! Ugh. She didn’t get flustered by men, not that easily. Except when it came to this one. She started walking, realized her arm was still linked with his, and stopped, her feet sliding on the snow.

“Careful now,” he warned again. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel.” He held her closer to steady her and started off. The snow wasn’t deep by any means, but it was slippery.

When they approached a streetlight, she looked up. It was one of the few in town. How he could see in such dim light, she had no idea. She clung to his arm and let him lead her back to the hotel.

Once inside, he steered her straight to the kitchen. “Mr. Sampson, some hot tea.”

Mr. Sampson took one look at them and shook his head. “Why would the two of you be out in the dark and cold?”

“Come now, Sampson,” Mr. Thompson said. “Preacher Sutton is making his rounds. It’s not as if they were out walking in the dark with no one else around. Now get the man his tea.”

“Oh, all right,” Mr. Sampson grumbled. He poured them each a cup of tea and shoved it into their hands. That done, he disappeared into the dining room.

Val stifled a giggle. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard out of the man since I’ve been here.”

“Mr. Sampson doesn’t talk a lot,” Micah agreed. “He comes across much like Phineas at the general store, a little cranky, but he’s a good man.”

“Give you the shirt off his back, too.” She nodded and took a sip of tea, edging closer to the cookstove.

“Well, I must be going,” Micah said when Mr. Sampson returned. “Get warm, check on your brides, curl up by the fire, and read a good book. I’ll check on you before I head home.”

Val nodded as she watched him leave the kitchen.

Mrs. Thompson entered and smiled at her. “You could do a lot worse than Micah Sutton, my dear.” She winked, poured herself a cup of tea, and left.

Val inched closer to the stove again and realized she was the only one in the room. She shrugged, spied the cookie jar, and helped herself to a handful.

Val went upstairs with her tea and cookies. She hung up her coat, scarf, and gloves, and debated if she should do as Micah suggested and read in front of the fire.

Perhaps she should check on her brides first, then relax. Val decided to do that and made her own rounds. She hoped Micah was warm enough, seeing as how he’d already been out in the cold for who knew how long.

She checked on the brides who were at the hotel, waiting for dinner, then fetched a book from her room and went downstairs. She read for at least an hour and had dinner before worry crept in. Thankfully, Micah returned not long after. She hurried out of the parlor to greet him.

“Well, is everything shipshape out there?” Val asked, smiling.

“Quite.” Micah pulled off his hat and gloves. “I need to stand by the fire a moment.” He headed into the parlor and sloughed off his coat, then warmed his backside before the flames.

“Has it gotten colder?” Val asked.

“Yes, I don’t remember it being this cold last December.” He shivered and rubbed his hands together a few times. “Every year is different. Some winters are harsher than others. But don’t let that deter you.”

She frowned. “Deter me from what?”

“From deciding whether or not you wish to live here.” He said it in a teasing tone, but she knew there was more behind his words.

“Micah Sutton, are you trying to talk me into moving to Wild Rose Ridge?” A hand went to her hip as she frowned at him.

“Am I?” His tone was light. “I didn’t realize. My goodness, the things that come out of a preacher’s mouth.” He gave her a wink, then turned to hold his hands up to the fire.

What was the man up to? Val joined him and warmed her hands too. “You’ll want to get them good and hot before you put your gloves back on. Are they wet?”

“A little. I got in a snowball fight with Jed.”

She picked his gloves up from the chair and held them to the fire. “At least this will warm them for you.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks. That’s thoughtful of you.”

She gave a light shrug. “I’m just trying to do my part, seeing as how you’re out checking on everyone.”

“It’s what I do.”

He looked at the fire. “I don’t know if you noticed the parsonage next to the church?”

“The wee house? The cute one?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“Oh, so that’s your house, is it?”

He winked. “It is. I’ll have to show it to you one of these days. I’ve been there for years and still haven’t decorated much. I suppose it needs a woman’s touch.”

Her heart fluttered as her belly did a flip.

Was the man truly looking for a wife but afraid to ask her to match him with one?

As far as she knew, there wasn’t a bride on file at The Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride company who would suit Micah Sutton.

Still, she could keep an eye out and maybe bring him one next summer.

“It has a lovely fireplace much like this one,” he said.

“And I’d like to hang wallpaper but can never make up my mind.

If I were to take a wife one day, I’d rather let her decorate the house.

We’d use the quilts she makes on the beds, of course, any curtains she might sew. You know, things like that.”

“Oh yes, of course. And she’d want to pick out her own china too. Good china is a very personal thing to a woman. You can tell a lot about lady by her dinnerware and how she decorates her house.”

He rubbed his hands together. “I’ve heard.” He lowered his hands. “That feels so much better. I might make the trek home and still be a little warm when I get there.”

“One would hope so,” she said, giving him a sidelong glance.

He smiled at her and stared into the fire. “You’re a fine woman, Val O’Malley. Has anyone told you that?”

“The sisters compliment me now and then. Augusta says I’m quite tall for my short stature, I suppose.” She gave a small laugh. “It was something along the lines of what you told me the other day.”

“Quite so. And I agree with her. What do the others say?”

“Well…” She rolled her eyes. “Josie, the youngest, she’s the, how shall I put this… realist of the group. She occasionally reminds me that I should be married simply for my own protection. Yet she’s not keen on matching me with any bachelor that comes to us looking for a wife.”

His eyebrows shot up. “They come right to you?”

“That they do. They want to see if we have any brides wanting a local gentleman. We do offer matchmaking services at dances and public meeting houses.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“As far as I know, we’re the only ones who do it.

But it brings money in, and the sisters have made a good living adding those services.

But it’s the mail-order brides I admire.

Going off to meet a man they’ve known nothing about.

Will he be kind? Will he be a grump? Anyone can say anything in a letter.

It’s a risk, you know? A big one. And for the man too.

I’m sure there’s many a groom who’s received a bride that didn’t fit the description she gave, and vice versa. ”

“I imagine it happens all the time,” he added. “That’s why we strive for honesty. We don’t mind when bachelors come to us looking for wives. We can see them, measure them if you will, get a good idea of their character. And of course the same thing with the brides.”

“Of course,” she said.

He smiled. “You really love matchmaking. Your eyes light up when you talk about it. Did you know that?”

She blushed. “Ummm… no. No one has mentioned it, not even the sisters.”

“That’s surprising. Do they get a gleam in their eyes when they’re talking about matchmaking?”

She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. “Oh yes! All three. It’s a grand thing to see, really. They get so happy, their faces full of joy.”

“Much like yours does,” he commented softly.

She turned and met his eyes. “Are you seeking a wife, Micah Sutton?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “I have to ask myself some questions first.”

“What kinds of questions?”

“Well, do I have to have a wife who knows how to cook, for instance?”

Val gave him a sidelong glance. “Well, I should hope she can cook. Of course the sisters have their own cook, but that doesn’t keep me out of the kitchen.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back, imitating her posture. “And of course she should be able to sew and keep house, that’s a must. I tend to be hard on my clothes.”

“Are you now?” She looked him up and down. “I don’t see any patches.”

“I’m not wearing the clothes with patches.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she said. “Ella came here planning to open a dressmaker’s shop. She’s just as good with men’s clothes as women’s.”

“Is she?” He raised an eyebrow. “Hmm… but once I’m married and have a wife who can sew, I won’t need a tailor or dressmaker, will I?”

“No, I suppose not.”

He gave her another sidelong glance. “Do you sew?”

“Of course I sew. I’ve sewn all my own clothes since I was ten. I’ve never been to a dressmaker’s.”

He turned to her. “Never?”

“No. Not when I can sew my own. They’re…”

“…well, too expensive.” He filled in.

“That. Yes. My mother always told me there’s no need to see a dressmaker when you’re perfectly capable of making your own. Why spend the money?”

“Indeed. A wise woman, your mother.”

He looked her up and down. “But if someone gifted you a dress, you would wear it, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, of course I would. My mother gifted me dresses she made. They were fine dresses. She was a good seamstress.”

“And now that you’re grown, if someone gifted you a new dress you wouldn’t reject it?”

“Well, of course not! Especially if it’s a fine-looking dress. Less work for me, you know? I didn’t have to sew it!”

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking in a delightful way, and she found herself giggling.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he said, facing the fire again.

“And what about you? Do you have problems receiving gifts from your flock?”

“Not at all. People bring me all kinds of things. How do you think I eat?”

“Oh yes.”

“I’m not poor,” Micah said. “In fact, my family was very well off.”

“Was?”

He nodded. “My parents both died a few years ago, influenza, and I inherited.”

She blinked a few times. “I see. What did you inherit, if I may ask?”

He turned to her again. “That’s something I’ll tell you another day. Just know that any wife of mine will be well cared for. We might not live in a big fancy house like the Schultes, but we’ll get along just fine. She’ll always have a roof over her head, a warm home, and food on the table.”

“And she should have a good pair of healthy hands for you,” Val put in.

He took her hands in his. His were large and warm, and oh dear, what a tingle went up her spine.

He looked into her eyes as her belly flip-flopped all over the place.

What was this man doing? He wasn’t going to kiss her, was he?

Well, if he was, there was still plenty of distance between them… time enough to dart away.

But he didn’t lean in. Instead, he simply held her hands, his eyes searching hers.

And wouldn’t you know, she gazed right back.