The Bartender’s Mail Order Bride(50)

Meg knew her mouth was open but had no control over it as she watched Mrs. Allen retreat up the stairs.

Sam sighed. “I suppose we have no choice. If she’s staying, we have to tell her. There’s no way around it now. We must tell her first thing in the morning. And then I’ll take you home.”





Chapter 28





Meg didn’t sleep a wink and jumped out of bed at the first birdsong, even before the sun had risen. She’d often admired that the birds knew when to start singing, even in the dark, to herald the new day, and she was grateful that they ended her torture, allowing her to get dressed and start pacing.

She’d spent the night thinking about what Sam had said, and about what he thought might happen. He was right. If Mrs. Allen was staying, there was no way they could expect friends and family—the entire town—to continue their pretense. Sam would have to go back to work. Suzanne and James would go back to the mercantile. There really was no option.

She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she didn’t want to leave, that her place was here with the man she loved and his charming mother, whom she’d grown quite fond of in such a short time.

Her only hope was to tell him the truth, tell him how she felt about him and hope for the best.

She knew it was early, and what she had in mind was extremely untoward, but she was fairly sure Sam hadn’t slept much either. She put the final pin in her hair and took one last look in the mirror. Out loud to her reflection, she said, “It’s now or never, Nutmeg Archer,” and smiled her best, most confident—if not quite believable—smile. “Oh, I mean Nutmeg Allen.” She laughed at her mistake. Not even she knew what the truth was anymore.

She cracked the door open, checking across the hall for any sign of life in Mrs. Archer’s room. Seeing none, she opened the door slowly and tiptoed down to Sam’s room, closing her door behind her. When she reached it, she smoothed her skirts and her hair, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she reached for the doorknob and jumped a step back as it opened, Sam appearing as startled as she thought she must.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

She hesitated at his frown. “I wanted to talk to you before we met with your mother, if that’s possible.”

He held his finger to his lips and peered down the hall, stepping out of his room and closing the door. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her behind him down the stairs and into the kitchen.”

“Sam, I—“

“Shhh,” he said again and opened the door to the garden, pulling her out to the small table and chairs surrounded by flowers of all kinds—and the one rosemary bush.

“I don’t think she’ll hear us out back, but she’ll likely be up soon. I haven’t slept at all, I don’t think. I’m so sorry to put you through this, Meg.”

Meg’s eyes softened, and she knew it was time. “Sam, please don’t be sorry. You haven’t put me through anything that I didn’t want to be put through.”

He frowned again as he leaned back into his chair. “What do you mean?”

She had been so certain that if she told him, he would be overjoyed, but her nerves jangled at his frown. She tugged at the sleeve of her dress, and looked up as his blue eyes never left her face.

“I realize you don’t know this, and it will come as a surprise, but for a long time before you needed a bride, I was hoping that you might choose to court me.”

“Court you?” he said, his hands on his knees.

She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice as she looked over toward the sunrise. “Well, I can see you’re surprised. I know you didn’t even notice me.”

Sam frowned and reached for Meg’s hand. “Meg, I—”

“Oh, excuse me,” Mrs. Allen said from the doorway.

A pang of guilt passed through Meg as she turned to see Mrs. Allen, her genuine smile radiating warmth—and trust.

Sam turned from his mother back to Meg, squeezing her hand. His back to his mother, he mouthed, “Are you ready.” She calmed a bit at his reassuring smile and nodded.

“Would you sit down for a moment, Mother? Meg and I have something we’d like to talk with you about.”

“Oh, dear, that sounds ominous. You’re not unhappy that I’d like to stay, are you?” She sat slowly as Meg and Sam did the same.

“We’re very happy that you’ve decided to stay. It will be a true pleasure to have you in Tombstone.” Meg wasn’t quite sure where she stood with Sam, if he still wanted to send her home, so she decided it would be best for him to tell the story, and she settled back in her chair.