“All right,” Jack said slowly, eyeing the baby in Mark’s arms wearily. “I can try to help, Boss, but I’m not very good with kids. Just ask my little sisters, they’ll tell ya.”
“That’s fine, Jack. I’ll hurry along and be back before you know it.”
Jack put the pitchfork beside the wooden wall and carefully closed the door to the horse stall. After rubbing his hands down the front of his pants, he held out his arms for the baby.
“Thank you, Jack. I really appreciate the help,” Mark said quietly as he delivered Heath into Jack’s waiting hands. Though a look of consternation jumped into Jack’s hazel eyes, the boy said nothing. He knew Jack was inexperienced, but he couldn’t very well hold Heath in his lap while he rode into town, so Mark figured this was the only available option.
“What do I need to do with him exactly, Boss?” Jack asked, moving his hands slowly, adjusting the hold he had on Heath.
“Just watch him closely and be careful if you put him down. He stands and crawls on his own.”
Jack made a face, then he smiled down at the boy. “We’ll be just fine, won’t we, Heath?” he said, and Mark wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure the baby or himself.
Mark mounted the closest horse, Felix, a golden palomino. Stirring Felix into action, they turned and rode out of the stable without further provocation. As promised, Mark made the trip to town as quickly as possible. Dirt clods flew around him as he rode, but he didn’t stop or slow. Now that he had decided to marry Miss Fitzpatrick and bring her to his home, he didn’t want to waste one moment.
Once he spotted Fitzpatrick’s General Store ahead, he brought Felix to an abrupt halt and tied the horse near a watering trough. After that rough ride, he knew the animal would need a moment of reprieve. Mark strode confidently toward the shop entrance and pushed aside the red front door, a bell jingling as he entered.
It took a moment for Mark’s eyes to adjust to the dimly lit store. Once they did, he instantly located Miss Fitzpatrick standing near the far wall, arranging jars of what looked like peaches. He walked briskly in her direction. As he approached, she looked at him quizzically.
“Is everything all right, Mr. Flint? Is there a problem?” As her blue eyes looked him over, he tensed. He hadn’t thought for one minute how he might look, riding into town, jumping off his horse, and barreling into the store. He did his best to calm himself and straightened his spine to appear as though he had it all together.
“Miss Fitzpatrick, I have reconsidered your offer,” he spoke quietly but made sure his words were clear. He saw her eyebrows raise slightly on her forehead and knew she’d understood him.
“Oh?” she said cautiously, placing one more jar of peaches onto the shelf and scrutinizing him closely.
“I will forgive all your father’s debts if you agree to be my wife. This is a business arrangement and nothing more. On my end, I will endeavor to make sure that you are comfortable in your role.” He took off his hat and fingered the threading around the brim. He had not expected to feel quite so unnerved, but now that he was standing face-to-face with Miss Fitzpatrick, he was flustered by the situation.
“Layla,” Emmett Fitzpatrick called. Miss Fitzpatrick’s eyes widened in shock. Before, Mark had only guessed that Layla entered into this agreement without her father’s consent. Now, judging by the unsettled look on her countenance, he knew it to be true. Defensively, he stepped in front of her as Mr. Fitzpatrick walked toward them.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Mark said authoritatively.
Emmett froze, dumbfounded. “Why, Mr. Flint!” he said. “I did not anticipate seeing you here so soon. I have not made the arrangements that will be required to—”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Mark said. “I have arranged a settlement with your daughter, and it will absolve you of all your withstanding loans.”
Emmett appeared downright flabbergasted. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it again almost instantly. He gazed from Layla to Mark, then to Layla once more. He raised a hand to his mouth and gnawed on a hangnail on his thumb. “Layla,” he said, at last, pulling his thumb away from his mouth. “I don’t know the nature of this arrangement, but I must insist that it be canceled. I do not approve of it, and I cannot allow you to act on my behalf. I want to make the decision—”
“Ah yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Mark interceded. “But the decision is no longer yours to make. Your daughter has made an offer, and I have accepted. You owe me a large sum of money; I can either collect, or you can agree to this settlement your daughter has brokered on your behalf.”
Mr. Fitzpatrick fumbled with his words. “Well, I was going to—I mean to say I had a …” It was clear to Mark he wanted very much to have a say in the matter, but Mark didn’t have time to listen to his incoherence.
“We shall wed as soon as I can arrange the matter.” He turned to glance at Layla. “Miss Fitzpatrick, please be prepared, as I intend to act swiftly in this matter. Mrs. Calkins, the woman who normally cares for my son, is no longer capable of doing the task. I will need you to assist with Heath presently.” He inclined his head respectfully in her direction, then acknowledged Mr. Fitzpatrick before marching out of the store.
He grabbed the reins that hung loosely about Felix’s neck and swung himself up and onto the horse. With one last hard look at the general store’s red door, he rode off in the direction of the newly erected church. As Felix trotted through the town square, Mark glanced at the people around him,all going about their day, visiting with friends and neighbors, stopping at the bank. Mark’s thoughts swirled wildly through his head as he realized what was about to happen next.
And I am to marry …The thought made Mark’s heart hurt. Rubbing at a spot on his chest vigorously, he turned his attention back to his errand.It’s best to get this over with quickly.
Chapter Five
“Does the dress fit?” Emmett called through the doorway. It was Saturday morning, just two days since Mr. Flint appeared at the general store, telling Layla that she should prepare herself for a hasty marriage. She stood in her bedroom, fastening herself into a gown that once belonged to her mother.
“Yes, Papa,” Layla returned as she moved her hands carefully over the soft layers of white fabric. The entire gown was beautiful, and it was one Layla had never seen her mother wear. Frilly lace hung from the sleeves. The dress cinched nicely at the waist, and a large bustle gathered in the back. The neckline came up rather high as more lace trim swept just under her chin. She had never worn something so grand. Her fingers trembled as she reached behind her to adjust the bustle and ruffles of lace that hung down her back.
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all,” Emmett said through the closed doorway. “A young woman should not be forced to give up her freedom in such a manner.”
“I’m not being forced to do anything,” Layla replied as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She grabbed a small silver necklace with a delicate cross dangling from it and hastened to fasten it around her neck.
“Oh, yes, you are,” Emmett spluttered indignantly. Layla was not certain if her father had been drinking that morning or not, but she knew that he was agitated, and there was little she could do about it.
