She wound her fingers into the fabric of her coat, hardly daring to hope that her first impressions of him hadn’t been wrong. “Do you wish me to stay?”
“Yes,” he said, giving her a grateful smile. “I would like that very much, if . . . if you would too.”
Eleanor wanted nothing more than to leap forward and wrap her arms around him, but she was certain she’d stun Merrick into embarrassed silence for at least a week. Instead, she kept her hands demurely at her side and said, “I would like to stay.”
Merrick’s smile could have changed night into day. “All right,” he said before nodding and opening the door. He stood back to allow her to enter first.
Eleanor pressed a hand to her heart as she took in her surroundings. The single room was large, and although it was sparsely furnished, it was clean and comfortable. A bed stood in the corner with a trunk at its foot and a row of pegs hammered into the nearby wall. Directly in front of her, two plain armchairs sat in front of the fireplace. And best of all, a cozy kitchen area with a shiny black stove and small table and chairs beckoned invitingly toward her right. Sunlight streamed in through four windows, with those in the rear showing a lovely view of the landscape and distant low-rising mountains to the east.
“It’s small,” Merrick said again, although he had no reason to apologize for the most lovely home Eleanor had ever seen.
“It’s perfect,” she replied, unable to keep the awe from her voice.
“It is?” He glanced around his home as if he’d never seen it before. Then he smiled, and she knew he took her compliment to heart.
“May I?” She gestured at the little kitchen area.
He nodded, and she moved toward the stove. What a change it would be to cook on something this wonderful! It was a far cry from the open fire she’d had at her tiny home in West Fork. She opened the oven and peeked inside, imagining all sorts of breads and cakes and pies she could make. What did it cost him to keep such a lovely and large homeandhave a stove like this? She would need to be very careful with how much butter and sugar she used. The last thing she wanted was to make him worry over money.
She stood and beamed at him as he set down her carpetbag. “This stove looks almost new.”
“It is.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Clara—that’s Mrs. Carlisle at the livery next door—said I ought to have a stove for you.”
Now Eleanor was the one who was speechless. He’d purchased it forher. She couldn’t imagine how much he must have spent on it. No one had ever bought her something so expensive. David always wanted to—he loved to describe the necklaces of gold he wished to purchase for her—but anything like that was impossible on the wages he made at the mine.
“Thank you,” she finally managed to say.
Merrick ran a hand over his beard as his face tinged red. “Well, I ought to get back to the shop. You can . . .” He gestured about the room, and she supposed he meant she should make herself at home.
But she couldn’t—not yet anyway. There was one important thing he was forgetting.
“You can’t,” she said quickly, afraid he’d disappear before she spoke.
Merrick paused, his eyes widening slightly as if she’d frightened him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just . . .” She wound her hands together as she pushed forward with what needed saying. “I can’t stay here—in your house—if we aren’t . . . Well, if we aren’t married.”
“Oh! Oh, yes. Of course.” He went somewhat red again.
Eleanor waited a moment, relieved to see that he agreed. But when he didn’t suggest visiting a church or a judge, she knew she would have to make the suggestion or else they’d likely stand there all day, unmarried. “Is there a church in town with a minister who might be able to help?”
“Yes. We could go there?” He phrased the last sentence as a question, as if he half-expected her to say no and jump aboard the next train out of town.
“That would be wonderful. Would you give me a few minutes to prepare?”
He nodded and slipped out the door. Eleanor opened her carpetbag and spent some time washing her face, and then brushing and fixing her hair. At the very bottom of the bag, wrapped in a piece of cloth, she retrieved a brooch that had belonged to her mother. She pinned it to the collar of her dress and then held up the little mirror she’d brought.
It would have to do. She already wore her Sunday dress, saved especially for today. Her only other clothing was soiled from the journey west and would need washing as soon as possible. She smoothed back a wayward piece of hair and hoped she might find Rebecca and her new husband at the church too.
Then she went outside to meet the man she would soon marry.
