The Grieving Cowboy Hadn’t Smiled In Years, Until A Clumsy Mail Order Bride Made Him Laugh Again

Chapter 3

“Elias,” he said, not looking at her. “And we can talk after you warm up. You’re half frozen. Get out of those wet clothes.”

Lydia climbed the stairs on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else. The spare room was sparse — a bed with a thin mattress, a wooden chair, a small dresser — but it was clean. She found the blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed and wrapped herself in three layers, her body shaking so violently that she could barely keep her teeth from chattering.

When she came back downstairs, Elias had built a roaring fire and was standing in front of it, his back to her, his shoulders rigid.

“My brother did this,” he said without turning around. “His name is Caleb. He owns the barber shop in town. He’s been after me for months to move on with my life, and apparently, he decided to take matters into his own hands.”

“Move on from what?” Lydia asked, though she already suspected the answer.

Elias was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“My wife and daughter died three years ago. Anna died in childbirth, and our daughter only lived a few hours.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and fragile. Lydia felt her heart crack open for this stranger — this broken man who had been forced to relive his tragedy because of his brother’s meddling.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, and she meant it with every fiber of her being.

“It is what it is,” Elias said roughly. “Caleb thinks I need to move on, find someone new, start over. He doesn’t understand that I’m not interested in replacing what I lost.”

“Of course you’re not,” Lydia said softly. “No one could replace them. But that doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your life alone.”

Elias finally turned to face her. His eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a vulnerability in his expression that made Lydia’s breath catch.

“You can stay here until the stage runs again,” he said. “Three days, maybe four, depending on the weather. After that, you’ll need to find somewhere else to go.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lydia said. “I can find a boarding house —”

“The boarding house is full. And you’ll freeze to death before you make it to the next town. I won’t have that on my conscience.”

Lydia should have been offended. Instead, she found herself smiling.

“Thank you, Elias. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

As if on cue, Barnaby chose that moment to shriek, “BLOODY HELL!” at the top of his lungs.

Elias stared at the cage, then at Lydia, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m working on his vocabulary,” Lydia said weakly.

“I can see that,” Elias replied — and for just a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile.