When I Fall in Love Read online

  A young lady in a stylish blue dress and matching cape exchanged a warm glance with her handsome young escort as they passed Nancy’s seat. Their love for one another was obvious. Nancy envied them. Would she and John ever look at each other with that same warmth? Or would he ultimately hate her because she’d lied to him?

  Adjusting her gloves and smoothing her skirts into place, Nancy told herself there was nothing to do but to step off the train.

  Negotiating her way to the door on shaky legs proved difficult. She used the high seatbacks to keep herself upright and moving through the car. As she stepped from the train, she clutched her small reticule and surveyed the milling crowd. Not one face looked familiar. Not one person approached her.

  What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d gone back to Buffalo?

  Clasping a palm over her roiling stomach, she scanned the crowd.

  Laughter and shouts of joy sounded around her as families and friends reunited. She hooked the wrist chain of her reticule over her forearm and straightened her shoulders. Her legs trembled as she stood on the platform with too many people casting curious, probing looks at her as they rushed to and fro.

  Where was he?

  As the porter deposited Nancy’s three trunks on the platform, she tried to present herself as a confident woman rather than a nervous girl still in her teens — another falsehood. Smoke billowed from the gasping train and made her eyes tear as it pulled out of the station. Her stomach felt upside down and her breath came shallow and fast. The letter she’d received from John Radford was kind and assured her of his character and his intent. Surely he would be here, so she would just have to wait for him to approach and hope he found her acceptable. And she prayed she would find him acceptable in return because if she didn’t... her life would go from bad to worse.

  One pleasant looking older man asked if she needed assistance, and for an instant she was hopeful he might be John Grayson. Unfortunately, the man had come to fetch his brother returning from Albany. So Nancy waited while the crowd thinned, observing each man that passed, wondering if this one or the next would smile and announce himself. Not one of them did. The longer she stood alone the faster her heart beat and the stiffer her back grew. What if her intended didn’t show?

  She couldn’t go back.

  As the crowd thinned, her eyes met the dark speculative gaze of a man on the other side of the platform who seemed to be observing her. With a slight nod, he tucked his dusty hat beneath his arm and headed toward her. He was taller than she’d anticipated—and very handsome.

  Her heart beat faster. Her cheeks warmed and she wondered if the man walking toward her with a confident stride was her future husband.

  Another train pulled into the station in a cloud of billowing smoke, blasting its arrival and shattering her nerves.

  “Miss Mitchell?” the man asked, his voice respectful, yet unmistakably strong and commanding.

  As she took in his soiled clothing and circles of fatigue beneath his eyes, she nodded to let him know he’d found his intended. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her aversion to his dirty, unkempt clothing.

  He didn’t smile. He didn’t extend his hand. He waved a filthy piece of paper in front of her face. “I’m Hal Grayson, John Radford’s brother. I received your letter to John and regret to inform you that he must cancel your agreement because he…because he recently died in an accident.”

  Stunned, her gaze jumped between the letter and his unwavering gaze.

  “I’ve purchased your passage back to Buffalo,” he said, his eyes wrought with grief and... anger? “I apologize for your trouble. I’ll load your bags while you board. The train will be departing again in minutes.”

  Sawdust covered his clothing and perspiration wet the underarms of his shirt. He towered above her, thin for his height, and yet despite his frown, she couldn’t think of another man more handsome... or indifferent.

  A few passengers stepped off the train, greeted their friends and loved ones, then gathered their belongings and rushed off.

  “You’d best hurry, Miss Mitchell,” he said, nodding toward the open train door.

  She glanced around her believing there had been a terrible mistake. “But I don’t... John promised to meet me here.”

  Hal Grayson’s lips twisted. “As you can see my brother is not here. He was laid to rest in Buffalo four days ago. While I was there I tried to locate you after his funeral to save you the trip. But I was unable to find a Nancy Mitchell in Buffalo. I regret that his death has changed your plans, Miss Mitchell. It’s rather inconvenient for both of us.”

  “Oh, dear... I’m terribly sorry,” she said, realizing her words were offensive. “I only meant... I’m sorry.”

  Her plan was crumbling. Of course, Mr. Grayson had been unable to find Nancy Mitchell in Buffalo, because Nancy Mitchell hadn’t exited until she’d answered John Grayson’s advertisement. Helplessly, Nancy searched the station for the man she was supposed to meet, the man who had provided a means for her to escape the disastrous marriage her father had arranged for her. But that man wasn’t coming, so she turned to the only hope she had. “I can’t go back, Mister Grayson.”

  “I’m afraid you must,” he said without batting those long black lashes of his. With a curt nod toward the train, he added, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’ll need to board now, Miss Mitchell.”

  She shook her head and threw herself on the mercy of the only person who could help her out of this predicament. “Please, Mr. Grayson. I had an agreement with... with your brother. I can’t go back because I... I simply must stay.”

  His dark eyebrows lowered in a scowl. “Your services are no longer required, Miss Mitchell. Now please board the train before it leaves without you. I emptied my purse purchasing your ticket. I can’t afford to put you up in a room for the night.”

  “My services?” Her temper flared. “I was to become your brother’s wife, Mr. Grayson, not a servant who provides a service.”

  He raised his palm as if to apologize for his offense. “Beg pardon, Miss Mitchell. My brother sought a woman who could prepare our meals and tend our home. Those are the services he advertised for in exchange for marriage, yes?”

  “His letter said he was looking for love.” Nancy retrieved John’s letter from her purse and waved it beneath Hal Grayson’s arrogant nose as he’d done so unceremoniously with the letter she’d sent to his brother. Thanks to years of debating her father at every turn, she’d grown adept at outwitting a worthy opponent. “He wanted love, Mr. Grayson.”

  Hal’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise and then slashed right back down into a scowl that was already becoming familiar. Although he didn’t say it, she could tell he didn’t believe her claim.

  John Grayson’s letter had stated that he hoped they would get on well together and both find their arrangement pleasant. He wanted an amicable relationship. That was close enough to love for Nancy. It was far better than the alternative waiting for her back in Buffalo.

  She noted that Hal Grayson’s hand was devoid of a wedding band. “Forgive my breach of etiquette, Mr. Grayson, but are you married?” Her boldness made her face burn, but she was desperate.

  His eyebrows lifted, no doubt surprised by her bold question. “I haven’t made a match as of yet,” he said.

  “Your brother promised that I would have a good home here and be treated kindly,” she said. “I left everything for him, Mr. Grayson. I can’t go back. I’m truly sorry about your brother, but in his absence I must place myself on your mercy and beg your assistance.”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do, Miss Mitchell.”

  “But you can’t just leave me stranded here.”

  “I’ve purchased your passage back to Buffalo. This train is heading to Buffalo.”

  “I told you I can’t return. It’s out of the question, Mr. Grayson. Until we find a suitable solution, I have no choice but to hold you responsible in your brother’s stead.”

  �
�Me?” He staggered back a step with a derisive laugh. “No, ma’am. I’m not fulfilling my brother’s contract. That was an agreement I was against from the start.”

  “An agreement nonetheless, Mr. Grayson. I have nothing to go back to because of the promise your brother made to me. And now I’m stranded in a strange town without any means to support myself. I have no other options. Not one.”

  “I’m not seeking a wife, Miss Mitchell.”

  “Well, your brother was and he made a commitment to me. A man of integrity would honor his deceased brother’s debts and agreements.”

  He drew himself up as if preparing to bodily put her on the train, but it was already chugging out of the station.

  Through clenched teeth, he said, “You’ve missed your train, which was extremely unwise, Miss Mitchell.” Releasing a growl deep in his throat, he said, “Wait here,” and headed inside the station.

  Heart thundering, Nancy stood outside and tried to calm her racing heart. Warm June sunshine splashed across the worn planks of the platform, and yet she stood alone and shivering wondering if she’d just won a battle or made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Chapter 2

  As they pulled out of the depot, Hal noticed Miss Mitchell looking over at him. “This... awkward situation isn’t entirely my fault, Mr. Grayson.”

  Hal said nothing. He was utterly baffled to find himself carting the woman home. He’d fully intended to put Miss Mitchell back on a train bound for Buffalo. He’d spent nearly every coin he had to purchase her return trip, and yet he’d simply stood on the platform while her train chugged out of the station.

  He’d meant to send her back. He really had. But the minute he saw her step down from the train looking apprehensive and even a bit scared, he felt his anger and frustration shift to curiosity and concern. He had expected to meet a self-possessed twenty-year-old woman. He thought she would be plain, perhaps even uncomely, a woman whose only choice for marriage was to answer an advertisement. And while Miss Mitchell seemed poised and composed, she appeared younger and far from plain.

  “What was I to do?” she asked, softly, her dark eyes peering from beneath her stylish hat.

  Gads, he couldn’t look away from those dark eyes of hers. They had ensnared him at the station and made him forget his purpose in coming here. When he’d first seen her he’d experienced a sense of familiarity sweep over him, as if he was meeting a long lost friend, and yet he knew with certainty he’d never met the woman. He would have never forgotten a woman like Miss Mitchell.

  “Are you so angry you won’t speak to me?” she asked.

  He braced his elbows on his knees so he wouldn’t have to look at her. He couldn’t think while looking into those big brown eyes. “I’m not angry with you Miss Mitchell, I’m just... I’m trying to figure out what to do with you.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think, Mr. Grayson?”

  He sighed. “I have no idea what to think at the moment.”

  He’d expected a fragile flower, one who would be easily persuaded to return home when faced with the information of John’s passing. But instead he’d found a petite, red-haired spitfire, a determined young woman with a sharp mind of her own. Although wildly beautiful and desirable, Miss Mitchell would have been a terrible match for John Radford. He wouldn’t have appreciated her forthright manner and intelligence. He wouldn’t have known what to do with such a woman. John had expected a passive and plain wife. The spark of defiance in Miss Mitchell’s eyes said she was anything but submissive.

  Still, when Hal cut his gaze to the young woman seated beside him, he sensed a bit of innocence and naivety about her that elicited a protective instinct in him – a feeling that wholly surprised him as much as discovering her stunning beauty.

  Why was a woman with so many assets willing to marry a complete stranger who could offer her nothing? Hal knew John wouldn’t have lied about their situation, but had he neglected to tell Miss Mitchell what she’d be getting herself into?

  But the more pressing question was why Hal had allowed her to distract him to such a degree that she’d missed her train?

  It was a question he couldn’t answer and so he found himself returning to Fredonia with Miss Mitchell by his side, heading to the house he’d recently shared with his brother. Hal had nowhere else to take the headstrong woman.

  As they traveled out Liberty Street, they passed William and Mary Tucker’s house. His neighbors greeted him with a warm wave and curious looks at the stylish young lady at his side. Hal considered throwing himself on their mercy and leaving Miss Mitchell with them, but he couldn’t impose on his neighbors. He was already in their debt. While he’d been in Fredonia for a number of months, he and John had only moved in next door a few weeks earlier and were just becoming friends with the Tuckers. Now that John was gone, Mary Tucker and his other neighbor, Martha Fiske, had been delivering Hal’s supper each evening. Their generosity and kindness was overwhelming and he couldn’t even think of imposing on them further with Miss Mitchell.

  The only option was to put the woman up in his home for the night and then take her back to the station in the morning. She would have to make do with a dusty room and a bed with a lumpy mattress. That’s all he had to offer her.

  The obstinate woman should have taken the train right back home instead of forcing his hand. John would have wanted Hal to ensure she had favorable circumstances and wasn’t left stranded. And Hal did feel a sense of duty toward the woman. She was here because of his brother’s foolish promise — and her own bad decision. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy with the situation.

  Hal’s house was badly disheveled, sparsely furnished, and filled with grief. Until now, he hadn’t much cared, but when Miss Mitchell stepped into the small foyer, her look of shock made his face burn.

  The disappointment in her eyes gouged his conscience for not preparing her, for not helping her understand what she was walking into. But her obstinacy and unwillingness to get back on the train had made him too angry to care. The woman was beyond unreasonable. She’d promised to marry a man sight unseen. She deserved what she got—or so he tried to convince himself.

  “It’s just for the night,” Hal said, by way of apology. “I’ll return you to the station in the morning.”

  Instead of weeping or complaining, Miss Mitchell drew in a steadying breath and walked through the house. Her pretty brown skirt stirred up balls of dust that rolled across the oak floor like tumbleweed. The cut of her stylish dress with its puffed sleeves and fitted waist emphasized her petite figure and told Hal two things: she was a fit, beautiful woman and her garments alone were worth more than he earned in a month.

  She peeked in each room as she circled the parlor and eventually found her way to the kitchen. “Three bedchambers and a cozy parlor will make a lovely home,” she said, although she sounded unconvinced.

  A home? For whom? Hal didn’t ask because it seemed better not to know what was on the lady’s mind.

  She entered the kitchen ahead of him. “The table is large enough for a family and there are... plenty of dishes,” she said, as her sharp gaze took in the mountain of unwashed plates and bowls and silverware piled in the sink and stovetop. Nearly every item in his home, including the dishes, had been inherited from the recently deceased previous owner, Harold Crandale, and the man’s generous daughter, Martha Fiske.

  “Are you hungry?” Hal asked because he didn’t know how to excuse the inexcusable mess he and John had created. He gestured toward a wicker hamper on the sideboard. “You’ll find eggs, bread, and a crock of butter in the basket. My neighbor William Tucker brought over that crate of last year’s apples,” he said, gesturing to a wooden crate shoved into a corner. “They’re packed in sand and still very tasty. It’s all I have at the moment.”

  “I’m quite content, thank you.” She looked around the kitchen and sighed as if preparing herself for an insurmountable job. “Where is your housekeeping staff?”

  The
idea was so preposterous it made Hal laugh. “You were to be our staff, Miss Mitchell, had you married my brother.”

  Her eyes widened as she took in the disheveled rooms and dishes overflowing the sink. “I did not understand that to be the case. I believed I was to tend John’s home and direct our staff.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Not to worry, Mr. Grayson. I shall set about acquiring a suitable staff on the morrow.”

  “You’ll return to Buffalo tomorrow,” he said, reinforcing the fact that she would not be staying and that he would not be honoring the ridiculous contract his brother had committed himself to.

  She seemed not to have heard him as she examined the heavy cast iron stove squatting in the kitchen like an old mule. “Does the stove work?”

  “Yes,” he said, baffled by the woman. How could such a tiny lady possess such grit in the face of their obvious calamity?

  “That’s good.” She nodded and peeked into the parlor. “The oak floor will clean up nicely and the fireplace will make the parlor quite lovely I should think.”

  Hal remained silent. He had no intention of talking about the merits of a house she would not be staying in.

  As she surveyed the parlor her eyes lit up as she surveyed the pianoforte. The instrument, a rare treasure that had come with the house purchase, seemed to pull her across the room. Before he could comment, she tugged off her gloves and laid her delicate fingers across the black and white keys sending a discordant trill of sound across the parlor. “It’s badly out of tune, but such a beautiful instrument.” Her lips tilted upward, hinting at a smile. “May I avail myself?” she asked.

  “Whatever pleases you, Miss Mitchell. I’ll get your bags and put you in John’s room for the night.” Hal nodded toward the door behind her. “I’ll sleep in the barn so there’s no... so you won’t... because I’ll be up late working.” Clearing his throat, he spun on his boot heel and headed outside.