A Convenient Wife (6 page)

“Now, I heard that Tess has been scouting up women for you to consider ever since you came to town.”

“That's true. The woman can't stand to see an unmarried man.”

James leaned forward over the desk, looking up at Win. “All joking aside, Ellie would make a good wife, Doc. You could do a hell of a lot worse.”

“How did we get into this discussion?”

“You brought it up,” James told him. “I just pointed out a few facts. Just thought you might like to consider all the angles.” He grinned up a Win. “I'm an agreeable sort, Kate tells me.”

“Well, I've got a couple of house calls to make,” Win said. “I just wanted to let you know that Ellie's keeping Kate company for a while. In case her father comes back, I'd just as soon she wasn't alone at my place.”

“You going to church next Sunday?” James asked as Win stepped over the threshold, bringing him to a halt.

“You got some reason for asking?”

“If you take Ellie with you, it'll set folks talking, you know.”

“They're probably already hashing me over,” Win said defensively. “If Ellie wants to go to church, I'll take her.” He stomped across the sidewalk and headed for the livery stable, where he kept his horse and buggy. And then paused midstep. He'd forgotten his bag with all the to-do about Ellie and her father.

It didn't look to be a wonderful day, he decided glumly, heading for home.

 

Church had been barely tolerable, Win thought, walking beside Ellie as they left the small, white chapel. They'd been the focus of all eyes, even though he'd been as decorous as possible, speaking when spoken to, and ignoring the sidelong looks of the women in the congregation. Ellie, oblivious to
the attention they'd garnered, had sung with a sweet soprano voice, and listened intently to the minister's sermon.

“Well, we managed to raise a few eyebrows,” Win said gruffly, slowing his pace for Ellie's shorter steps. Hands shoved into his pockets, he knew he was being taciturn, but being the subject of gossip didn't set well with him.

“I know I'm not dressed for church,” Ellie said quietly. “I probably shouldn't have gone till I could afford a new dress. It's just that Pa didn't take much stock in church-going and I didn't get to attend service very often. Only if he was in a good mood or one of the men had to go to town on Sunday and I could hitch a ride.”

“He let you out and about with a ranch hand?” Win asked, his brow lifting as he considered the idea.

“They knew not to make advances,” Ellie said softly. “Pa would have fired them on the spot if they looked crossways at me. Not that there's much to look at.”

The girl honestly didn't know how pretty she was, Win decided. She wasn't a great beauty, but with decent clothes to wear and the healing of her bruised face, she'd be more than presentable. Her hair alone was enough to make a man sit up and take notice.

She'd brushed it early this morning, there on the back porch, while she thought he was still abed, and again he'd watched her through the screen door, his gaze devouring the heavy tresses that waved the length of her back. She'd been so unaware, so innocent of guile, her body moving in an unconscious rhythm, and Win had found himself yearning to bury his hands in the depths of those rich, brown curls. He'd warrant not another man alive, not counting George, had ever seen the sight, and a twinge of satisfaction brought a smile to his face.

“What's funny?” Ellie asked suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Win shook his head. “Far from it, Ellie. I'm just remem
bering how beautiful your hair looked when you brushed it, out on the back porch this morning.” He met her gaze and his only thought was to banish the look of wariness she wore like a second skin.

“You're a lovely woman. Any man would be proud to have you in his home.”

“You must be blind in one eye and can't see outta the other,” she scoffed, and yet a blush tinged her cheeks with a rosy hue.

“I'm not blind, Ellie. I've seen more pleasingly arranged features than yours, perhaps, women who spent long hours to make themselves attractive. I've known females with elegant wardrobes, and the money to buy jewelry and pay for fancy hairdos.” He hesitated at her stricken look, and then reached for her hand, squeezing it gently as he turned to face her.

“You don't understand, honey,” he said quietly. “They don't hold a candle to you. None of them.”

Doubt made her toss her head, and he recognized the air she assumed. “I know what I am,” she said proudly. “A woman without means, having to work for everything I own. And that's all right, Winston Gray. I'm proud that I can work hard and earn my way. You don't have to try making me feel good with fancy words and—”

“Hush,” he said quickly. “I'm not doing that. I'm telling you the truth, Ellie, and you're too stubborn to recognize it. You're a woman any man would be pleased to claim as his own.”

“Oh, sure,” she said curtly, her lip curling in derision. “I'm gonna have a baby, and I wasn't even bright enough to know the difference between being in the family way and dying of a tumor. I'm sure some handsome man is gonna come after me with a wedding ring in his hand.” She pulled her fingers from his grip.

“You don't know what you're talking about, Doc. You sure
don't know much about men, and the way they look at women like me.”

She stalked down the road ahead of him, and he stepped double-time to catch up. “You're the one who's all wet, my dear,” he said firmly, his hand circling her arm and slowing her pace. “I know exactly how men look at a woman like you.” He stopped dead in his tracks and brought her to a standstill next to him.

“I'm a man, Ellie. Do I need to remind you of that?”

She shook her head dumbly, her eyes wide.

“And I know exactly how I'm looking at you.” His jaw clenched as his eyes focused on her face.

She was pale, her mouth trembling, and even as he watched, a lone tear slid from each eye to dampen her cheek. “Don't be mad at me,” she whispered. “I couldn't stand it if I did something to get you riled up.”

Shame buried his aggravation, and he bowed his head. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you. I just can't stand for you to think of yourself in such a way.” His fingers loosened their grip and his hand rose to her face, fingertips tracing the damp trails.

“You're a wonderful young woman, Ellie. You're strong and honest and worthy of any man in this town.”

“I don't want any man in this town,” she said quietly. “I just want to work for you and stay in that beautiful room you let me have, and make flowers grow in your yard.”

“I'd say that's little enough to ask of life,” he told her, bending to touch her forehead with a gentle brush of his mouth. Drawing her hand through his arm, he turned them in the direction of his house, aware of a buggy that passed, conscious of two families who walked on the opposite side of the road…and mindful of the lapse he'd just committed.

Kissing Ellie was like placing an item in the weekly newspaper. Dr. Gray To Marry Ellie Mitchum. He might as well have announced a forthcoming wedding while he sat among
the parishioners in the community church just moments ago. That the word would spread like wildfire throughout the county was a given. He could no longer keep Ellie in his home without making her his legal wife.

 

Thankfully, the news took almost a week to reach Ellie's ears, and then it came from Win, himself. She'd spent long hours scrubbing floors and windows. Her arms ached from washing curtains and ironing starched ruffles, and her back protested the reaching to hang every blessed thing she could find to wash on the clothesline.

But the results were worth it. Winston Gray's house gleamed from top to bottom. His floors shone, his rugs had been beaten properly and every window was framed by freshly washed curtains. All but the living room, and those draperies had been shaken and wiped with a damp rag, before Ellie rehung them.

Kate had ventured over once to see what was going on and declared that Ellie made her tired, just watching the momentum she'd developed. Admonishing the girl to slacken her pace, Kate had waddled back next door, and then set off for school for the afternoon classes.

Ellie smiled as she scrubbed, pleased at Kate's interest, touched by her concern. But pleasing Win was her first consideration, and though he cautioned her against climbing to hang the curtains, he'd obviously been pleased at the end results of her whirlwind of activity.

“I never thought this old place could look so good,” he told Ellie, leaning against the doorjamb one evening as she dished up supper. “I just don't want you working too hard. Folks will think I'm taking advantage of you.” And with those final words, his mouth tightened and he walked toward her.

“Has anyone been by, Ellie? Have you spoken to any of the ladies in town?”

She shook her head, intent on pouring gravy into a deep
bowl. “I've been too busy to go to the mercantile. Tess brought me a chicken and a slab of bacon this morning, and we talked, but she was in a hurry. She just wanted to know if I was doing all right.”

“And are you?” he asked, lifting the plate of fried chicken from the warming oven and transferring it to the table.

She cast him a questioning glance. “You know I am, Doc.” Ellie halted midway across the kitchen and turned to him. “She sounded kinda funny, though. She asked me if we'd talked about a change in my status. And I said, did she mean from poor to well-to-do?”

“Your status?” Win snatched at the word, well aware of Tess's meaning.

“I suppose she was thinking how different my life is now, since I've been here. But I don't know exactly what she meant.”

Win pulled her chair out and waited as she picked up bowls of vegetables from the stove. Watching him closely, she placed them on the table, then slid onto her seat. She'd eyed him curiously the first time he held her chair for her, but had come to accept the small courtesy without comment. He walked to his place and sat down, weighing his words carefully.

“I think she was referring to your status as a single woman,” he said. “I have a notion folks are wondering about us, Ellie.”

“What for?” she asked. “What is there to wonder about? I'm your housekeeper and you're the town doctor.”

“Some folks saw me kiss your forehead on the way home from church Sunday morning, honey. There's been talk.”

“People think I'm after you?” she asked, fingers lifting to cover her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. “I've never meant to—”

He reached across the table and clasped her wrist. “Don't, Ellie. Don't even think that. It's not you they're speaking of. It's me. They think I'm taking advantage of you.” It wasn't
the sum total of the gossip that was circulating, but not for a moment would Win allow Ellie to be privy to the words that criticized her presence in his home.

“You haven't,” she gasped. “Not for a minute. You wouldn't.” Her head shook from side to side as she spoke, and tears formed in her dark eyes, spilling onto her bodice.

“I didn't mean to make you cry,” Win said, reproach gnawing at him. “But the truth is, I did kiss you, Ellie. And in so doing, I've compromised your…” Somehow,
virtue
wasn't the correct word to use here, he decided.

“Reputation,” he finished with a nod.

“I didn't have much of a reputation when I got here,” she said softly. “I'm sure that little peck on my forehead didn't do a whole lot of damage.”

“Well, it made folks talk. And I won't allow them to besmirch your name in any way.”

“You can't go fighting any battles over me, Doc,” she told him. “I'll just have to find someplace else to live.”

He shook his head. “Not on your life, honey. You're staying here, where you belong.” Releasing her hand, he motioned to her fork. “Come on, now. Eat your supper, and I'll tell you what I think we should do.”

Obediently, she picked up the utensil and speared a piece of carrot, carrying it to her mouth and chewing it, her eyes never leaving his face. And then she leaned back. “I can't eat till you put me out of my misery, Doc,” she told him. “What are you planning?”

“Well,” he began, picking up a chicken leg and inspecting it. “You do fry chicken to a turn, Ellie,” he said with a grin, then turned the full force of that smile in her direction. His teeth bit into the tender meat and he chewed for a moment, wondering how she would take the revelation of his plan.

There was only one way to find out.

“Your father has been making noises again, about you
living here. And along with folks being curious about my intentions, I've decided we should get married.”

Ellie dropped her fork, and it clattered against the thick china plate, then fell to the floor. “Oh, dear,” she whispered. “Now look what I've done.”

“I'll get you another fork,” he said, rising quickly and walking to the buffet.

“Not that,” she said, her voice breaking as tears formed. She looked up at him and anguish painted her features. “I've put you in a terrible spot, Doc. You don't want to marry me, any more than you want to…” She halted as if she could think of nothing horrendous enough to compare.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, placing the fork in her cold fingers. “Now, sit up there and eat,” he told her, circling to his own chair. He watched as she chewed and swallowed bites of potato and a forkful of green beans. Woodenly, she reached for a piece of chicken and ate it, her eyes fastened to her plate, as if something there was too marvelous to ignore.

“Ellie?” He spoke her name quietly, carefully, and was rewarded when she looked up at him.

“Doc? Are you funning me?” she asked, and beneath the scoffing words, he detected a note of hope.