Strong and Stubborn (38 page)

“No, ma'am.” Michael either didn't notice or pretended not to notice the astonishment then fury flashing across Charlotte's face before she composed herself—most likely to avoid getting wrinkles. “I can't say I would've guessed that, seeing as how a smart man doesn't go around speculating on the age of ladies he's just met.”

But a smart man
does
soften the blow of calling an obviously vain woman “ma'am.”
Naomi struggled against giving in to giggles—not because of Charlotte's indignation, but because Michael hadn't played her sister's game. He'd deliberately refused to flatter Charlotte at Naomi's expense and almost complimented her instead!

Charlotte's simper held a slight edge. “An excellent policy.”

“We do look very much alike.” Naomi intentionally sounded apologetic. Hopefully it would appease her sister while letting Michael know she regretted putting him in such a difficult spot.

“Could almost be twins.” Michael must have caught another flicker of Charlotte's irritation because his jaw set and his eyes sparked with mischief. “Same height, similar features and coloring. When you're wearing bonnets or hats, a man would be hard pressed to tell you apart at first glance.”

“In time you'll notice how our disparities outweigh the similarities.” Her sister scraped up a smile and twirled her parasol. “Until then we'll take care you don't confuse us.”

Naomi sucked in a sharp breath, sickened by the veiled allusion to their past. Her sister kept her claws sharp and tinged with more than malice. The attack seeped into Naomi's soul, stealing her joy at seeing Michael again. He didn't know the history behind Charlotte's seemingly innocuous comment, but he saw its impact.

The warm brown of Michael's gaze sharpened. “You're distinctly different, and I could never mistake one sister for the other.”

“Never say never,” Mrs. Blinman cautioned, casting her sister a meaningful glance. “As Naomi can attest, you wouldn't be the first.”

Mike looked from Naomi to her sister and back again, reaffirming his conviction that no man with an ounce of sense could confuse these two women after a moment spent in their company. From afar, the resemblance might mislead, but certainly not up close.

He hadn't lied when he said he wouldn't have guessed Naomi to be older. Mrs. Blinman fancied herself a coquette, but those fancy frills and simulated smiles couldn't sweeten the bite beneath her comments. Her sham sophistication, as with any poorly laid veneer, aged her. In fact, the woman reminded him of his mother-in-law.

By contrast, Naomi's simple dress and fresh face didn't detract from her beauty. Like finely grained oak, she needed no adornment save what God granted already. If affectation aged her sister, Naomi's unadulterated loveliness seemed almost untouched by the time.
Forty years from now, she'll be every bit as beautiful
.

“Just as we dislike being thought of as interchangeable,”—Naomi spoke stiffly and with an underlying fierceness, unsettled by her sister—“you can't judge Mr. Strode by the mistakes of other men.”

Her sister's smile grew more feline. “How silly of me, when it's so clear Mr. Strode has … distinguished himself with you.”

She took the words and twisted them with her tone, implying impropriety where there was none. Mike didn't like the way Naomi had gone pale early in the conversation and not yet regained her color. When she'd mentioned her sister, he'd gotten the idea the two weren't close. Now that he met Mrs. Blinman, he understood why.

“Mr. Strode distinguishes himself with everyone he meets.” The green in Naomi's eyes sparkled with an emerald brilliance her sister could never match. “Aside from his work, he's unusually observant.”

It didn't take heightened powers of observation to see that Mrs. Blinman wasn't pleased with the way the conversation was going. “Perhaps he is. Then again, you make things easier by refusing to style your hair to conceal that bizarre white streak of yours.”

“Why would she ever want to conceal it?” Mike challenged.

“Most ladies do not flaunt their oddities.” She sniffed in disdain. “You must admit, Naomi's coloring marks her as outlandish.”

“Unique.” He barked the word. “Refusing to hide who she is doesn't mean Miss Higgins flaunts herself. It means she's genuine.”

“What I am,” Naomi intervened while her sister spluttered, “is genuinely excited to meet your son. I see he's returning from his walk with Decoy and Dunstan. Looks like he's enjoying himself.”

Mike nodded, taking a moment to switch gears. In a few moments he'd gone from happy homecoming to the sad news of Mrs. Nash and had been unable to relish his reunion with Naomi thanks to her catty sibling. Now he had to push all that aside and make sure Naomi took to Luke and Luke liked Naomi back. He swallowed against a stomach spasm, and Mike belatedly recognized the sensation as nerves.

Lord, You know the desire of my heart. You know I've sought Your guidance about Naomi, and now I seek Your assistance. The timing feels rushed, more now than when I left Hope Falls. But if it's right, if You've planned this path, please pave the way
.

“Luke!” He called his son over, wishing Mrs. Blinman would flit away to offer the three of them a little privacy. No such luck.

“Yeah, Dad?” Luke came running up, stopping suddenly enough to raise a small puff of dust and make Mrs. Blinman take a step back.

“Son,”—Mike brought his son to stand in front of him and clapped his hands on the boy's shoulders—“I want you to meet—”

“Miss Higgins?” Luke burst out, eyeing the women in blissful ignorance that he'd revealed how much Mike talked about Naomi. Luke couldn't tell that Mrs. Blinman realized the significance of his ignorance any more than he could tell which sister was Miss Higgins. His brows knit. “I mean, one of you is Miss Higgins?”

“That's right.” Mrs. Blinman swept in front of Naomi, who'd already started to come forward with her hand extended. She reached out one perfectly manicured hand and pinched Luke's cheek as if he were still a toddler. “Aren't you the most adorable little boy?”

“No.”
Mike heard his thought echoed by both Luke and Naomi.

“I am not little. Or adorable.” Luke rubbed his reddened cheek, pulled his shoulders back to look taller, and gave Mrs. Blinman a well-deserved glower. “And I don't think you're Miss Higgins.”

Mrs. Blinman looked indignant at the reaction. “Well, I never—”

“My sister never said she was Miss Higgins.” Naomi nudged her sister out of the way with a touch more force than was absolutely necessary, and Mike had to hide his grin. She stooped down a smidge and held out her hand for Luke to shake. “And your dad never said what a strong grip you have! Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Strode.”

Luke, visibly puffed up by the way Naomi addressed him, pumped her arm another time to prove his strength. “You can call me Luke.”

“Thank you. Please call me Naomi.” She returned his grin, and Mike started to relax. “Now, you have a very important decision to make, Luke. I know what your dad would choose, but this time it's up to you. Would you like to go to the diner for some of my friend Evie's cooking, or do you want to stop and see the workshop first?”

“Workshop!” Luke burst out without even thinking it over then laughed when Mike groaned and rubbed his stomach in a sad way.

“Tell you what.” Naomi straightened up and held out her hand in invitation. “We'll go to the workshop while your dad saves seats.”

“Deal!” Luke plunked his hand in Naomi's without reservation. As the two of them left, Mike's heart swelled with pride and hope.

“She's good with children.” Mrs. Blinman watched her sister go then turned with a sorrowful expression. “Such a pity she's barren.”

W
hat?” Mike couldn't muster up the more polite, “Excuse me?”

“Unable to have children.” Mrs. Blinman shook her head in a regretful sort of way but finished with a shrug. “Barren.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Mike's astonishment swiftly turned to ire. “How could anyone know that when she's unmarried?”

“How do doctors discover any condition?” Another dainty shrug made her ridiculous parasol bob. “There are symptoms when women lack the ability to bear children, though I won't detail those signs.”

No children
. Mike suddenly understood this was the missing piece—the final detail as to why Naomi never married. A woman like that didn't resort to hiring a husband without several reasons, and she'd only revealed the least personal ones to him. That, more than the condition itself, gave him pause.
But why would she confide that to me when I'm one of the few men who haven't tried to court her? She'd have no reason to give me such intimate information, and it's not something she'd want to discuss under the best of circumstances
.

Again, he couldn't help but see the irony. Not only had he found the only two women who might “hire” him for a husband, but they happened to be the same two who wouldn't give him a child of his own blood. Leticia because she carried another man's baby. Naomi because she couldn't carry any at all.
But does it matter? Luke is the son of my heart, and while I wanted to give him siblings, he's fine
.

In the midst of muddling through his thoughts, he realized Mrs. Blinman had started talking again. In his opinion, she talked too much.

“It's the reason why Harry chose to marry me instead.” She tilted her head toward a well-dressed man in conversation with Mr. Corning. “He originally courted Naomi, but when I finished school and came home from France, Harry decided I would be the wife he needed.”

What kind of man would choose her over Naomi? The fact that she would consider taking her sister's suitor makes her a poor choice
. Mike did his best to hide his incredulity, struck by the memory of Naomi's wistful expression when she told him she had no family left because her sister had gotten married. “Your husband originally courted Miss Higgins? Is that why the two of you aren't close?”

“Jealousy ruins relationships.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I came to Hope Falls hoping to mend fences, but I can see that it will not work. How can I blame Naomi for being heartsick over Harry?”

Her words packed a punch that left him reeling. Mike struggled to make his lungs work. “Are you saying that she still loves him?”

She blinked at him, eyes widened with surprise. “Of course, Mr. Strode! Her first love is something a woman can never forget.”

I couldn't have heard that right
. Naomi paused one step away from passing the workshop window. She rubbed behind her ears and waited.

“Say it again!” Clump urged. “I want to try to remember how.”

“Oh, it's nothing special,” Charlotte demurred. “You can say the same thing in English or German, since you're multilingual.”

“Stuff sounds so much better in French,” Bobsley proclaimed.

“All right. To say ‘I have a noble bearing,' it's:
Saviez-vous que vouz avez le nez d'un cochon?
” Charlotte repeated the phrase that had stopped Naomi in her tracks.

It had been a long time since Naomi had used her girlhood French lessons, and Charlotte learned the language in its mother country, but she knew without a doubt her sister hadn't complimented Clump's noble bearing. She'd asked him if he knew he had the nose of a pig! Clump begged her to repeat it, but Gent said it was his turn. “Now, what was that thing you said before about my fine manners?”

“One moment.” Charlotte issued a string of sneezes, and Naomi was glad to remember that her sister couldn't stay around sawdust for long.
“Vous êtes plus dense que les arbres que vous hacher.”

Naomi swallowed a surge of anger as kind Gent—whose manners trumped her sister's—carefully repeated that he was denser than the trees he chopped. Charlotte was systematically insulting her suitors and compounding the crime by teaching them to go around insulting themselves! If any of them remembered the words and repeated them to someone fluent in French, they'd be laughingstocks.