Page 19 of Val (Wild Rose Ridge #1)

Chapter Eighteen

“Not tonight, perhaps tomorrow.” That’s what Val told Micah at the meeting hall.

Was she stalling having dinner with him?

Very much so. She was at a tipping point, afraid that if she spent any more time with him, Wild Rose Ridge was going to start looking mighty good.

But she had to get back to Chicago, the sisters needed her.

Once her brides were all married, they’d be fine.

Yes, there were still a few bumps along their road to matrimony, but things would work out… she hoped.

Val paced her room, replaying yesterday’s encounter with Micah.

What did he mean when he said he’d like to share meals with her every day?

Good grief, he couldn’t possibly be talking about marriage, could he?

They had no understanding between them. They were just two people working together for the greater good, and in this case, it was getting her last four brides married off.

For him, however, it seemed so much more.

She thought about how he checked on people.

But was that a good enough excuse not to have dinner with him?

She wasn’t sure, unless, of course, Betty closed the café or Mrs. Thompson decided not to serve supper.

A stretch, she knew, but maybe she’d get lucky.

Knowing Micah, though, he’d make sandwiches at his home and insist she come.

Val kept pacing, her mind whirring around the fact that Micah Sutton might actually be interested in her. But what good did it do? She had a duty to The Sisters’ Mail-Order Bride Company, and she needed to see to it.

Val lowered her head and stared at the floor. Would Augusta, Margaret, and Josie ever forgive her if she didn’t return? What would she even tell them? “I’m sorry,” she said aloud. “But I seem to have fallen in love.”

Val rolled her eyes. “What if he’s only toying with me?”

That’s ridiculous, Augusta spouted in her head. He’s been nothing but kind ever since you arrived. And calm, I might add.

She’s right, Margaret said. And what’s the matter with falling in love? Everybody does it. It’s staying there some people struggle with. They don’t realize love is a choice.

What are you going to choose, Val? Josie asked.

She went to the bed and sat. “I don’t know, but I need to figure it out soon.

I can’t stand two weeks of avoiding the man.

But then again, what if I spent those two weeks getting to know him a wee bit better?

” She buried her face in her hands and growled into them.

She was never this indecisive or flustered, but Micah Sutton had managed to do both.

And she didn’t know what to do about it.

Val left the bed and went to the window.

She’d hardly eaten a thing at lunch, and Micah would be by the hotel soon enough to see if she wanted to go to dinner.

It was snowing, so maybe that would deter him.

She heaved a sigh. Then again, probably not.

When that man made up his mind, he saw it through.

An admirable quality, I say, Josie’s voice chimed.

“Oh, don’t start,” Val snapped. “I can make up my own mind.”

Valentine, Augusta’s voice rang next. You know we’ll get along without you. We did it before you came to us. We can do it again.

“Aye, I suppose you can,” Val said. “But what if you three get yourselves into trouble?”

Then we’ll get ourselves out, they said at once.

Val smiled. “Aye, I’m sure you will.”

She was using the sisters as an excuse and had to stop.

This was a decision she had to make for herself.

Did she want a husband? A family? She’d denied herself that dream once she started working at the company, perhaps out of fear of becoming a mail-order bride herself.

But then she discovered she liked matchmaking.

It gave her a satisfaction she’d never known; seeing a couple marry and live happily ever after.

Well, most of them; some had rocky starts, but everything usually worked out in the end.

So why wouldn’t things work out if she chose to stay in Wild Rose Ridge?

Not wanting to think about it anymore, Val decided to read for a time. Maybe it would get her mind off things. She’d have to decide what she wanted to do after the remaining brides were wed. She couldn’t stay locked in indecision like this.

She read, but it was hard to concentrate on the story. And of course it had to be a romance. Why couldn’t she have brought along a book about botany or Roman history?

After a half hour, she set the book aside and rubbed her eyes. “It’s no good. I’ve got to get out of this room.” She went downstairs and nearly ran into Sylvester Sneed of all people. “Oh, excuse me, Mr. Sneed.”

“Pardon me, Miss O’Malley,” he said with the tip of his hat. He looked her up and down, steepled his fingers, and tapped them together. “You probably won’t leave this hotel all night.” Sylvester smiled, turned on his heel, and walked out the door.

“Merciful heaven, what was that about?” Val muttered. She looked outside. The wind was blowing, snow swirling, and her first thought was of Micah. Would he still want to have dinner with her, or would he be out making his rounds, helping folks prepare if the storm deepened?

She hurried into the kitchen to find Mrs. Thompson. “Is it true? Did your husband say it’s a full-blown storm?”

Mrs. Thompson was handing Mr. Sampson a bowl. “Albert is rarely wrong. But you’re one of the few I’ve told that to. We try to keep his knees out of most folks’ affairs.”

Val laughed. “His knees?”

“Yes. The poor man gets to aching something awful when a storm’s about to blow in.”

Val tried not to smile further. Her grandfather could do the same, only it was his back that ached when the weather changed. “Well, is this normal?” Val asked.

Mrs. Thompson nodded. “Yes, we get one or two good snows every winter. This is a little early, if Albert’s knees are correct.”

Val smiled again, unable to help it. “Well, I suppose I should let my charges know.”

“I haven’t seen a couple of them,” Mrs. Thompson said. “But two were in the parlor earlier having tea.”

“All right, I’ll check on them, then see about the others. I’m sure their betrotheds will get them back to the warmth of the hotel quick enough. I know back in Chicago one didn’t go out in a blinding snowstorm, and if this is what that is, I want them safe.”

“Of course you do,” Mrs. Thompson agreed. “Don’t worry, your ladies are marrying good men. They’ll see to them.”

Val gave her a quick nod and thought of what she’d seen out the hotel’s front windows. Should she try to find them? Should she try to find Micah and assist him? “Has Preacher Sutton been by?” she finally asked.

“No, not yet, but I’m sure he will be. He’ll check on folks until he can’t stand the weather any longer, and then he’ll go home and hunker down like everyone else.”

Val gave her a sage nod.

“Are you thinking of helping him again?” Mrs. Thompson asked with a smile. “Normally I would encourage it, but for this afternoon and evening, no. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Val said, then left the kitchen. She went to the lobby and stepped outside. It was bitter cold, the snow coming down heavier, the wind whipping it into swirls.

“Micah Sutton, don’t tell me you’re out in this, trying to take care of folks.

” She hugged herself, rubbing her arms for warmth.

Shaking her head, she ran back inside, went upstairs, and grabbed her coat, scarf, and gloves.

Maybe she was being an idiot, but she had to at least check on him.

At least it was still daylight, and she could see.

As soon as she was bundled, she went back downstairs and out the door. Let’s see… if I were Micah, where would I go first? She headed toward the residential area, her boots sinking deep into the snow. She didn’t want frozen feet all evening, but she had to know Micah was all right.

She stopped at the corner of Mrs. Schulte’s street and waited.

If Micah was here, he’d come out of one of the houses eventually.

Had he been to the outlying areas that morning?

Did he even know it would snow like this later in the day?

She paced in place to stay warm, waiting fifteen minutes with no sign of him.

Finally, she turned back toward the hotel.

She’d no sooner rounded a corner than Micah came out of a house, spotted her, and headed her way.

“Val!” he called, his voice carrying on the wind. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was looking for you, if you must know,” she shot back.

He broke into a jog, nearly slipping on the snow, but righted himself and kept coming. Val picked up her pace, careful not to slip. When they reached each other, he got close and gripped her shoulders.

“Are you plum loco? You shouldn’t be out in this weather! Why aren’t you in the hotel where it’s nice and warm?”

“Like I said, I was looking for you.”

“Why?” he asked, incredulous.

“To make sure you were all right, of course. Why do you think?”

He smiled. “You silly woman, what am I going to do with you?”

“Well, for one, you can escort me back to the hotel where it’s warm. Unless, of course, you need my help making rounds. Is that what you’re doing?”

“I did most of them this morning. I still have a few folks to check on, but I wanted to check on you first. Are you all right?”

“Of course I am, you silly man.” She shivered.

“Come on, let me escort you back. And don’t let me catch you out in this again, understand?”

Her teeth chattered. “I’m not inclined to venture out again,” she said, her words clattering as much as her teeth.

He took her arm and pulled her along. The snow came down heavier, and she wondered when it would let up. She hoped all her brides were safe and warm, and that their betrotheds would keep them that way. Of course she could just imagine what the Busy Bees would say to that.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked over the wind.

“What?”

“Have you eaten yet?” he repeated.

“Well, lunch was hours ago.”

“Then let’s have dinner together.” He gave her a warm smile and pulled her closer. “Careful now, sometimes the cold makes it icy.”

“Oh, I can believe that! You have to remember where I’m from.”

“I imagine Chicago gets much the same.”

“We do. And I don’t go out in it unless I have to. But Chicago’s a much bigger place. Wild Rose Ridge already feels cut off from the world. How much more so when it snows like this?”

“Indeed,” he said. “But we’re used to it. Everyone knows what to do in bad weather. I hope your brides can adjust.”

“Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine.” Val let him escort her into the hotel. He led her straight into the parlor and deposited her by the fire.

“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll go get you a cup of hot coffee. Or would you prefer tea?”

“Coffee’s fine, Micah. Thank you.”

He smiled and brushed some snow from her shoulders before leaving.

Val shivered as her heart warmed. No one had ever looked out for her before, and she liked it, a little too much.

Maybe letting him do these things for her was a bad idea, but she didn’t care at the moment. It was nice to be pampered.

When he returned, he handed her a cup and saucer. “I added some cream and sugar.”

“That’s fine, Micah. Thank you.” She pulled off her gloves, set the saucer on the mantle, and held the cup with both hands. “This feels nice.”

He pulled off his gloves and held his cup the same way. “Indeed it does.”

“When this blows over, I’ll help with the last of the decorations for the dance,” he said. “And I brought you something. Mrs. Thompson has it behind the counter. She told me you’d gone out. That must have been when you went looking for me.”

“Of course I did. I don’t want you out in this weather.” Her heart warmed again, a tingle running up her spine. “No one should be out in this. But one must do what one must do.”

“Like look for me?” he teased.

She cracked a smile and nodded.

“Could it be, Miss O’Malley, that you were worried about me?”

“Maybe a little.” She held up her thumb and forefinger, showing a half inch. “A little.”

He raised his brows. “Well, at least you’re thinking of me. That’s something.” He smiled down at her.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” she whispered.

She stilled, her heart pounding. As his eyes darted to her lips… land sakes, was he thinking of kissing her?

He stepped closer. “Didn’t you ever want to belong someplace? Raise a family?”

“I’ve thought about it,” she said nervously, looking away. “But not in a long time.”

“I think about it all the time now,” he said softly. “Ever since you got off that boat.”

She blinked, confused. “What?”

He nodded. “I think…”

Before he could finish, Mrs. Thompson entered the parlor. “Preacher Sutton, here’s the item you left.”

He took it from her and brought it to Val. “For you,” he said.

Val sucked in a breath. “What is it?”

He stepped back and smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Val swallowed hard, noticing Mrs. Thompson lingering nearby. Maybe it was a good thing the proprietress was right there. Val had no idea what she might do if Micah actually kissed her.