A Chance at Love (7 page)

His eyes flashed at her pun on Rebecca Appleby's name. “The girls don't care for her.”

“I knew those two were smart when I met them. Isn't there anyone else you can ask?”

“The girls don't want anyone else. Just you.”

Loreli searched his dark eyes for the lie, but he had one of the best poker faces she'd ever encountered. “Nice try, Reed.”

“It's the truth. Bebe told me she and her sister decided that they'd grow up without a mother, but later Dede confessed it was a lie. She said they simply wanted you for their mother and no other.”

Loreli did her best to ignore how the words touched her, but found it difficult. “No, Reed.”

“Miss Winters—”

“No. Now leave, please, so I can dress.”

“Sure.”

Holding his hat in his hand, he strode out, closing the door behind him. Afterward, Loreli stood there in the silence for a very long time.

A
n angry Jake drove home. Apparently he'd been wrong to think a woman like Loreli would jump at the chance to do something decent with her life. She'd done everything but laugh in his face; at least that's how his male pride remembered it. Didn't she understand how much it had cost him to come to her and ask her what he had? He experienced only a modicum of satisfaction knowing he'd never have to deal with Loreli Winters again because he still had to find someone to love Bonnie's girls.

Loreli spent the day in her room reading a novel she'd borrowed from Mrs. Boyd, trying to forget Jake Reed's early morning visit. It was hard. Every time her mind wandered, he and his words were there offering her a key to a life she'd fantasized about having but knew would never come to pass. Her? A mother? Even in a temporary capacity, what could she possibly teach the twins that would be of any benefit? Yes, she had her own morals and mores, and kept to them as much as she could, but she'd
been molded into the woman she was today by events and circumstances that had brought grown men to their knees: hunger, poverty, despair. As a youngster traveling with her father, she'd begged in the streets, taken handouts from the nuns, and run from the authorities more times than she could count, for everything from picking pockets to stealing shoes. As a young woman, she'd gambled in hellholes with men she dared not turn her back on nor win too much from for fear of losing her life. She'd also been beaten, cheated, and robbed.

There'd been good times though. Traveling with her old friend and sometimes paramour, the Black Irishman Trevor Church, to places like Mexico, France, and England, she'd gambled with dukes and lords in palaces and courts too beautiful to describe. She'd made money too. Over the last decade, the nest egg she'd been building had grown large enough to make money on its own, courtesy of the wise investment advice generously offered by the gentlemen bankers and capitalists she'd gambled with along the way. As a result, she wanted for nothing.

In the final analysis, life had laid her low and let her soar high. She'd known gunfighters, and politicians, men of great wealth, and men so desperate they'd bet their daughters' innocence for the chance at one more hand. All of those things and more had made Loreli Winters who she was, but what did any of it have to do with raising two little girls?

By the time evening fell, Loreli's inner debate was still raging. Her inadequacies for such a position were numerous, as were the potential consequences to Reed's reputation. His part in the equation threw her the most: What man in his right mind would propose something like this?
He appeared to be a decent man; a bit straitlaced for her liking, but one of those decent, god-fearing men. Didn't he know the gossips would tear at him like harpies, and that his reputation could be affected, all for bringing a woman like her into his home? Personally, Loreli didn't care about the gossips, she knew she could stand the heat; her skin was tough as hide after all these years. But could he? How thick was his skin? Loreli then realized that she was thinking the matter over now as if she might be considering Reed's offer. Was she? she asked herself. To her surprise, the answer came back yes.

A bit floored, Loreli got up from the chair she'd been sitting in most of the afternoon and walked over to the window of her small room. She looked out at the purples and oranges of the quiet evening sky. Was she really going to say yes? Thinking and doing were two different things, she reminded herself, so she wasn't really sure. She was considering it, however. In a way, Reed was right, she had done a lot of things in life, so why not this? Nothing in California needed her immediate attention, she'd already admitted that. She also readily admitted to being a sucker for someone in need. Granted the twins' plight was far more serious than lending money to someone or nursing a sick friend back to health, but why not stay around and enjoy the girls' company until Reed found this mythical
real
wife? It wasn't as if she had to marry him. More than likely, in a year's time she'd be ready to move on anyway. If she and the twins managed to form a bond, she didn't think Reed would deny her the opportunity to write to them to keep up with how their lives were progressing once he married. If he didn't she'd deal with it when the time came.

Loreli turned her mind back to the dilemma at hand. Her biggest concerns were how the twins would react once she moved in and the inevitable gossiping began. She didn't want them to be subjected to teasing and foulmouthed slurs because of their new mama's occupation. Children more often than not took cues from their parents, and in a school setting, no matter how large or small the town, children could be quite cruel. The fearless Bebe would probably sock the first one to say anything offensive, but Loreli wasn't sure how the more timid Dede might respond. Also needing consideration was the time limit Reed wanted to impose. How would the girls feel about that? There were many unanswered questions—too many. Yet the longer she debated with herself, the more she kept hearing Reed's words:
They don't want anyone but you
. What if he'd been telling the truth? Loreli didn't know how to answer that either. All she did know was that two little girls craved a mother as badly as she herself had at their age, and that they'd chosen her to fill the role. Their faith in her was as humbling as it was frightening.

The next morning, after a fretful sleep, Loreli washed up, then spent a moment going through the dresses hanging in the armoire. She settled on a navy blue summer-weight gown that had long sleeves, a high collar, and a very conservative neckline. She thought it best to dress conventionally. Reed would probably be spooked enough by her unannounced visit, no sense in making things worse by wearing something more suited to a gambling palace than motherhood. She pinned up her hair, put on a jaunty matching hat, then looked at herself in the mirror. Liking what she saw, she grabbed up her handbag and gloves. First she would talk to the girls, and then to Reed.

While driving the rented hack on the thirty-minute ride to the Reed farm, Loreli thought about what she might say to Bebe and Dede. The first thing she'd have to emphasize was that she would only be staying with them until Reed found himself a wife, and once that became a reality, she'd be moving on. Loreli figured once she set them straight on that, the rest of the discussion would be easy, or so she hoped.

When Loreli pulled up in front of the house, the girls were on the porch reading. The moment they recognized the morning visitor, they exploded off the porch like firecrackers, excitedly yelling her name.

Stepping down out of the carriage, Loreli couldn't hold in her grin. “Good morning, pumpkins.”

“I thought we weren't going to see you again!” said Bebe excitedly.

“Guess I was wrong.”

Dede's eyes were filled with awe. “That's a beautiful hat, Loreli.”

“You like it?”

“Yes.”

Loreli reached up and withdrew the hat pins. She handed the little blue hat to Dede. “Would you like to wear it?”

Dede looked so surprised. “May I?”

“Yes, you may.”

While the grinning Bebe looked on, Loreli set the hat on Dede's braided head, positioned the pins, then adjusted the small spray of netting that adorned it. Stepping back, Loreli viewed her handiwork with mock solemnity, then asked Bebe, “What do you think?”

“I think she looks real fine.”

“I agree.”

Dede smiled happily.

Loreli scanned the grounds for some sight of Reed. “Where's your uncle?”

Dede answered, “In the barn working on Mr. Gleason's sow. She ate too much rhubarb.”

“I see. Well, let's go find him. I want his permission to talk to you girls about something.”

“What?” Bebe asked.

“Oh, this and that. It's nothing bad, if that's what's worrying you.”

“Good,” Bebe said. Each of the girls took one of Loreli's hands and the three of them headed around the back of the house.

“Were you reading your school lessons back there?”

Bebe said, “Yes, but there's no more school until our teacher, Mr. Hazel, comes back from Leavenworth.”

Dede piped up, “His sister is sick.”

“Ah. So when's he coming back?”

Both girls shrugged.

Jake came out of the barn intent upon checking on the girls and their lessons, but he stopped short at the sight of them walking in his direction with Loreli Winters. What the hell does she want? he asked himself, even as he was struck by her golden beauty as she laughed at something the girls said. Her blue dress had long lace-trimmed sleeves and a lacy collar that led down to a neckline baring just enough of the tops of her breasts to make a man's eyes want to see more. Quickly pulling his mind away from that thought, he again wondered why she'd come. Yesterday, she'd all but tossed him out on his ear. She'd turned him down once, he didn't need to hear her say no again.

Jake had been so focused on Loreli, he hadn't seen the fancy blue hat on Dede's head. He did now.

Loreli watched Reed's dark eyes sweep Dede's head. She assumed the slight stiffening of his jaw meant he didn't approve. “Good morning, Reed.”

His frosty eyes met hers. “Miss Winters. What brings you here?”

“I'd like to talk to the girls, if I may?”

“What about?”

“The proposal you made me yesterday.”

He stilled, studying her. “Have you changed your mind?”

Loreli shrugged. “I want to hear what the girls think, first.”

Dede asked, “About what, Loreli?”

Loreli looked down at her, and said gently, “Let me talk to your uncle for a moment, okay?”

Dede nodded.

Loreli then asked Reed, “So, may I?”

Because Jake didn't know what she might be up to, he stated bluntly, “They're not pawns in a game, Miss Winters.”

“This isn't a game, Reed.”

Their eyes held. They assessed each other. After a few silent moments, he nodded his approval. “All right, but I'd like to speak with you afterward.”

Loreli had no problem complying with the request. “Sure thing.”

He told his nieces, “You girls be good now, hear?”

They replied, “We will.”

Loreli and the twins headed back to the house. A con
cerned Jake watched them until they disappeared from sight.

 

The inside of the house was cool with the breeze of morning. Short hemmed curtains flapped over screened windows. There was a narrow door in the hallway leading to the girl's room that Loreli hadn't noticed on her initial visit. “What's behind that door?” she asked curiously.

“The attic,” Bebe said. “Uncle Jake says grandpa lived up there before he died. We're not allowed up there.”

“I see. Well, lead on.”

Loreli followed where the girls led and was once again struck by the interior's lack of frills. There were no prints or framed pictures on the walls, no knick-knacks, doilies or fancy lamps. In the sitting room that also served as the dining room was a settee—old, but clean, and in a corner by the far wall, a serviceable wooden table and chairs. That was it. There were no end tables, no china cabinet, or hutches of any kind.

It took her a moment to get settled on the terribly lumpy settee, but she kept her face free of complaints as the girls took spots at her side.

Bebe raised her eyes to Loreli and asked, “What did you want to talk to us about?”

“Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning. Yesterday your uncle stopped by my room and asked me if I wanted to be your mama.”

The girls looked stunned. Dede finally gasped, “He did?”

Loreli nodded. “Yes, he did. What do you think of that idea?”

The girls shared a silent glance, then Bebe answered excitedly, “We like that idea very much, Loreli.”

Loreli smiled. “I like the idea too, but—”

“But what?” Dede asked in a worried voice.

“I'm only going to stay until he finds a real mama for you girls. Shouldn't take him more than a year, he thinks.”

“And then you'd go?” Bebe asked.

Loreli nodded solemnly. “Yes, pumpkin, I would.”

Neither girl had much to say after that. The twins shared another look, then Bebe asked Loreli, “Can Dede and I talk by ourselves?”

“Certainly. How about I step out onto the porch? You can come and get me when you're done.”

The girls agreed.

Loreli struggled to her feet. As she left, she swore the settee was stuffed with potatoes and that it had left bruises all over her behind.

Out on the porch, Loreli looked out over the blue-skied horizon, at what might very well be her home for the next year or so. There wasn't another house for miles. This could be a lonely, isolated life for a woman accustomed to the fast-paced, hurly-burly, comings and goings of the big cities. There'd be no piano players, loud saloons, or big shops like New York's Bloomingdale Brothers to spend her hard-earned gold in. There were no high-priced hair dressers, well-known dressmakers, or fancy candy stores. She'd have the companionship of the girls and the brides from the wagon train and little else. Living here would be like falling off the face of the earth in many respects; no one from her past would think to track her here unless she told them where to look. Admittedly, she found that to be a blessing of sorts. The straitlaced Reed and his neighbors
would undoubtedly be disturbed by the types of people she called friends, not because her friends were unsavory individuals but because of the way they made their living. Her longtime housekeeper, Mrs. Oliver, would undoubtedly faint upon receiving a telegram announcing Loreli's plan. Amused by the thought, Loreli just hoped her old friend recovered enough to be able to gather up
all
the items she would want shipped.

Loreli walked to the edge of the long porch and scanned the cornfields and other crops stretching off in the distance. She took in the barns, the hogs pens, the two milk cows grazing in the field, then smiled at the sight of a line of baby ducks waddling single-file behind a brown, feathered parent. There were chickens scratching about, two sheep dogs pacing about as if on patrol, and two long-necked geese causing a commotion near one of the barns. The geese were repeatedly charging and squawking angrily at a young goat tied to a post. The goat was fending off the charges well. Neither bird wanted to tangle with the goat's horns it seemed, so they settled for fussing and flapping their wings instead.