Shameful Celia (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 3) Read Free Page B

firmly set. A man and a woman stood on the front steps of the church, and I assumed the tall, blonde gentleman was the pastor. “Earnest?”
    The carriage ground to a halt, and, before the driver had a chance to open the door, Mr. Hobart pushed it ajar, hurrying out. He helped me descend, by holding my elbow. Then his fingers closed around my arm, as he dragged me up the steps.
    “This is your handiwork, Mrs. Hershey,” he intoned angrily.
    The woman he spoke to wore a black hat with a multitude of feathers. “I see she’s arrived.” She smiled kindly. “I’m always so happy when a plan comes to fruition. I hope you’ve had a lovely journey, Celia.”
    I tried to smile, but I was certain it looked like a frown. “I did.” Glancing at the pastor, meeting his inquisitive gaze, I felt a strange jolt, like I had touched a doorknob during a dry winter and gotten a shock. “Hello.”
    “I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs. Hershey.” Earnest pushed me before him. “You’ve gone and done it this time, I say. What is the meaning of this?” My belly jutted the material of the calico dress, revealing my delicate state. “How do you explain this? This is my chaste fiancé? You made no mention this woman was married before. You said nothing about her being with child.”
    Mrs. Hershey glanced at my protruding belly, her eyes widening. “Oh, my stars.” Her gloved hand went to her throat.
    “Why don’t we come inside?” said the pastor evenly. “It looks like Celia could use a cup of tea and a chair.” He did not wait for a response, taking my arm. “Come this way, please. I’ve a small kitchen at the back.”
    Surprised by his kindness, I tried valiantly to smile, although tears threatened. “Thank you.” I hated to admit it, but Lenny’s parting words had come true. He was right; I would need all the luck I could get.
    “If you think I’m marrying her, you’re mad. This was not what I expected. I feel like I’ve been duped, I tell you.”
    “Oh, Mr. Hobart,” soothed Mrs. Hershey. “Do calm down. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
    “There is. I’ve been lied to. She’s a filthy little liar.”
    “Keep your voice down.”
    Pastor Kinsley escorted me away down a small hallway past an office. Unable to hear what else was said, I found myself alone with the clergyman.
    “I’ll put the kettle on. Do sit.”
    Sliding into a chair, I stared at the room, which was sparsely furnished with only four chairs, a table, and some cupboards. “I guess it’s hopeless now.”
    He turned to look at me. “Nothing is ever hopeless, Celia. I’m sure things will be settled soon. Mrs. Hershey can be a very persuasive woman. I do wish she would stop playing matchmaker, though. I know she’s been successful twice before, but this time … ” he shrugged … “I don’t know.”
    A tear fell to my cheek. “I’m not a tart.”
    His smile revealed pleasing dimples. “Of course not. People say things in anger they don’t really mean. I’m sure he’ll apologize once he realizes what a heel he’s been.”
    “Today’s supposed to be my wedding day.”
    He set a cup in a saucer before me. “And, with any luck, it will be.”

Chapter 3
    M rs. Hershey breezed into the room. “Oh, my heavens.” She glanced at me. “I do believe you owe me an explanation, Ms. Wellington. Or is it Mrs. Wellington?”
    “It’s Mrs.” I held up a hand. “I am married, I mean, I was. Lloyd died a few months back and left me with nothing. Then I found out I was carrying his child.”
    Pastor Kinsley poured the tea. “Milk, sugar?”
    “Yes, please.” I hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and my belly rumbled.
    “I’ve some orange cake. Mrs. Hanover brought it over this morning. Would you like a slice?”
    “Oh, gracious, goodness, yes, I would, sir. I haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”
    “I’ll cut you a piece.”
    “I don’t think I’ve ever had orange cake before.”
    He glanced at Mrs. Hershey.