Page 10 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
“They do. I’m sure Mrs. Higgins has something up her sleeve as well.” Jackson really did like Chicago. It was just a little too gentrified for him.
“Do either of you need anything from the mercantile?” Uncle Mac’s words hung in the air.
Jackson saw waves of worry radiate from the center of her forehead and curl around her blue eyes. She met Mac’s face and blinked rapidly before looking away. Curling a strand of hair around her finger, she glanced at Jackson, then down at her feet as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“He’s not going to bite you. I promise.” He watched his wife as she delicately brushed her hair back from her face and gave him a shy smile. He couldn’t help the warmth that spread throughout his chest, though he knew he should reprimand himself for being so easily charmed.
Mac scoffed. “I will not bite you.” He sounded offended, and Chloe giggled, her shoulders finally relaxing. Jackson vowed to make her giggle as often as he could.
“Could you see if they have any fabric scraps, thread, or yarn? I have coin in my purse if you could come back to the boarding house with us.”
“Any particular colors?” Mac didn’t acknowledge her suggestion to pay for the supplies.
Chloe shook her head. “I brought my tambour circle with me, and Mama packed my shepherd’s hook. I can make any of it work. Thank you.”
Mac nodded and turned down the street away from the boarding house to where the mercantile sign was hanging, and Jackson began leading her back to the boarding house.
“But I can pay for things,” Chloe stammered.
“And today you don’t have to.” Jackson just kept moving them forward.
“What were you hoping to find in a bride?” she asked as they walked back towards the house.
Jackson took a deep breath, then retrieved a tiny volume from his pocket and leafed through it until he found the matrimonial ad. He handed her the paper, and she read the words out loud.
Wanted: Mail-Order Bride
Lonesome military man in search of a lifetime companion between the ages of nineteen and twenty-three.
Must be able to read and write.
Ideally can cook.
Willing to work beside me, not watch from afar.
She’d stopped walking, staring down at the missive in her hand. “Is this really all that you asked for?”
He didn’t know why those words made him feel self-conscious. “What’s wrong with it?”
“What you need is companionship. You want someone who can communicate clearly and knows their way around the kitchen better than you do. Did you not worry about finding a widow, a shrew, or someone of a different faith?” She was staring at him in astonishment now, with wide eyes. Why did he feel like he’d been scolded?
“I’ve never written one of these before!” His voice rose slightly, and a bird chirped loudly, reminding him they were still outside. “Can we go in and discuss this further?”
“Absolutely.”
She let go of his arm and stalked towards the little gate of the boarding house, leaving him no choice but to follow her. What was so wrong with his list? He thought he’d done well, not limiting the Lord’s options in finding him the right match. She reached the front door before he made it to the gate, and it surprised him that instead of letting herself in, she waited for him instead.
“We probably should not have this discussion in the sitting room where any of the other boarders can wander in as they please.” She gave him a pointed look.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jackson opened the door, allowing her to go first and quietly closing it behind them.
“You’re back!” Mrs. Higgins cheered, coming out of the kitchen to greet them.
“We are, thank you.” Chloe beamed at her for a moment before looking over her shoulder at him. “We’ll be happy to celebrate with you later this afternoon, but right now, my husband and I need to have a discussion.”
Mrs. Higgins’s eyes bounced between them, and her smile widened. “Of course, my dear. Sometimes they need a quick lesson in why arguing with their wives is a useless concept.” The older woman winked at Chloe, then pivoted and headed back to the kitchen.
Chloe reached the bottom of the stairs and looked back at him expectantly. “Are you coming?”
