Western Christmas Brides. Carol Arens

to wash over her and she removed her hands from atop his.

      He dropped his hands and took a step back. “I—uh—”

      She shook her head, not wanting him to apologize. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She had. If his sister learned of what had just happened, Abigail would have more reason to shed scorn. Since the first time they’d met, Abigail’s contempt-filled glares had showered Hannah with more shame than her father’s hateful shouts had back home.

      “I have your money here somewhere,” Teddy said, digging in his coat and pants pockets with both hands. “Ah, yes, I put it in this pocket so I’d find it easy.” Handing her an envelope, he said, “There’s also a note from Abigail as to what she’d like for next month. There are some special ads local merchants would like created, as well. She explains them in her note, but they won’t be due for a couple of weeks.”

      A tinge of remorse washed over Hannah. In spite of all her instincts, she had to be thankful for Abigail White. If not for the opportunity to create the etchings, she’d be even more indebted to Brett and Fiona. The money she received from the Gazette allowed her to contribute to the household and to purchase the things she needed. Four months ago she’d arrived with little more than a satchel holding one extra dress and underthings.

      “Thank you, Mr. White,” she said. “I’ll begin working on them right away.”

      “The thanks goes to you. Before you, the newspaper was rather dull. Though we tried, neither Abigail nor I have the drawing skills that you have. I’d wager no one in Kansas has the skills you have.”

      “I find that very doubtful,” Hannah answered. “It’s hardly a skill. Just something I like to do.”

      He gathered the stack of papers and etchings closer to his side of the table. “Do you need more supplies? Wood or paper?”

      “No. I have plenty of paper and Brett has cut up a rather endless supply of wood blocks. He also sharpens the burins regularly, and Rhett and Wyatt enjoy sanding the blocks smooth for me,” she added, referring to Fiona’s two young sons.

      “It’s good you have so much help,” Teddy said. “I’ll bid you good day, then. If you hurry, you might still be able to join the quilting club. I’d be happy to walk you to Martha’s dress shop.”

      She’d forgone the quilting club session today in order to complete the etchings, and had no desire to venture out in the cold. “Thank you, but no, I’ll remain home today.”

      He nodded as he replaced his hat. “It’s a good day to stay inside.” After picking up the stacks, he added, “By tomorrow it could be warm enough to go without a coat. This is Kansas. The weather changes hourly.”

      “I’ve noticed how unpredictable the weather can be here. Other than the wind.”

      “Aw, yes, the wind. Now, that is something you can count on.”

      It was rather amazing how casually they conversed. She was thankful for how he’d made her forget that she’d been embarrassed a short time ago. Which she should have been. Allowing a man to touch her like that. Eric had been the only man to touch her and... Her thoughts paused momentarily as she looked at Teddy. That was the other unique thing about him. He made her forget how badly she missed Eric. How severely she’d mourned his death.

      Their gazes locked and held in such a way her heart skipped several beats before he looked away.

      “Good day, Mrs. Olsen,” he said, moving to the door.

      A sudden desire to stop him from leaving had her stepping forward. Unsure why she didn’t want him to leave, she instantly concluded it had to do with not wanting Abigail to discover what had just happened. “Why isn’t your sister joining us for Thanksgiving dinner?”

      “She’s joining the mayor and reverend at Rollie Austin’s place that day.”

      “And you weren’t invited?” That seemed terribly rude, even for Abigail.

      “Yes, I was invited, but I eat at the hotel almost every day. Brett’s invitation sounded more enjoyable.”

      His smile enticed her to offer one in return. “Then I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

      “That would be impossible.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Good day, Mrs. Olsen.”

      “Good day, Mr. White.” Upon closing the door behind him, she drew a deep breath and leaned her forehead against the solid wood for a moment. Why? Why couldn’t any of the other men on her list make her heart thud? Teddy was as opposite from Eric as a man could be. Eric had been loud and impulsive—two things Teddy certainly wasn’t.

      However, he did have one thing in common with Eric. His family hated her. She had lived with hatred her entire life, and was determined her child would never experience it.

       Chapter Two

      Teddy willed himself not to turn around for a final look. Hannah had already closed the door, so he wouldn’t see her. Other than in his mind. A place where her image was etched as perfectly as the pictures she flawlessly carved into the blocks of wood. He’d been printing newspapers for as long as he could remember and producing multiple copies of pictures was not an easy task. Leastwise it never used to be. His and Abigail’s engravings always collected ink and left globs that bled into the print. That hadn’t happened once with Hannah’s creations.

      Her etchings were as flawless as her beauty. He’d been alongside Brett the day Hannah had stepped off the train, and had tried to keep his distance from that moment on. He’d fallen for a forlorn young woman once before and promised himself it would never happen again.

      Keeping his distance had been easy at first. Brett’s mother had sent Hannah to Oak Grove and Brett and Fiona had taken her into their home and protected her as strongly as a mother bear would a cub in spring. The entire town discovered why when Hannah’s shape had begun to change.

      Teddy let out a long sigh as his hands started to tingle. Touching her, feeling that baby move inside her, had been amazing. Miraculous even. And caused a large amount of compassion to well inside him. She was so young to be widowed and now was expecting a child all on her own.

      Only she wasn’t on her own. Brett and Fiona treated her like family and would continue to.

      Still, in a town the size of Oak Grove, which was small compared to many but growing steadily, a single woman—widowed or not, expecting or not—was a highly sought after commodity. Last summer the town had formed a Betterment Committee in order to bring suitable women of marrying age to town. Several men had married the mail-order brides, but although he’d contributed to the committee, too, he hadn’t sought out any of the brides. Hadn’t even considered doing so. He’d only gone along with the cause for appearance’s sake. Five years ago he’d gone down the road that led to marriage, but had hit a painful roadblock, which had taught him a valuable lesson.

      That was part of the reason he’d kept his distance from Hannah and would continue to, even though her growing stomach made her all the more beautiful to him. He could imagine her having a baby girl with golden curls and blue eyes as lovely as her mother’s.

      A tremendous sense of satisfaction grew inside of him as he once again recalled touching her stomach. Feeling the baby move. He couldn’t believe that had happened. Knew it shouldn’t have happened, because every time he looked at her, he was reminded of another young girl carrying a baby. One he’d been ready to claim as his own.

      A gust of wind caught him off guard. Teddy tightened his hold on the papers and blocks of wood in his hands, but relentless, the wind won and the bottom piece of paper caught the air. Teddy hurried after it, and stopped it with a stomp of one foot. While bending down to pick it up, he paused. Rather than a drawing, this one held writing. Neat and stylish penmanship he instantly recognized as Hannah’s.

      He grasped the paper