Jewel Read online

  Jewel was intelligent enough to know she could have a full life without a husband. She had only to look at Viveca, who’d been a doctor before marrying Nathaniel Grayson, or Abigail, who instead of spending her widowed years pining for a mate, had focused her energies on ways to uplift the race and women as well. Even Jewel’s good friend Maddie, whose unconventional past had made her a pariah to many in the Grove, had settled into a good life with her books and her hunting dogs. Jewel herself was noted for her committee work and her way with roses, a talent that gave her income and some measure of independence, but she didn’t want to be still doing wash while the world passed her by and when she was old and gray.

  She’d just started hanging up the last tub of wet clothes when she saw Eli Grayson’s buggy pull to a stop in front of the house. She’d heard about the fancy New York publisher who was coming to town to talk about the Gazette. She hoped the meeting between the two would go well. Everyone else in town missed reading Eli’s newspaper, even if he was a Democrat.

  “Afternoon, Jewel,” he said walking up, giving her that smile. Jewel had known Eli her entire life. He was wearing his lady-killer smile. She was immediately suspicious.

  “Eli,” she replied as she hung up socks. “What brings you by?”

  “Just thought I’d stop over and see how you were.”

  “Oh really? Can’t remember you ever doing that before.”

  “Is there a law against me inquiring after your health?”

  “Eli, I’m busy here and I have supper to get ready. What are you fishing for?”

  “You doubt my motive?”

  “Is my pa a Republican?”

  He covered his heart with a hand. “You wound me, fair maiden.”

  She shook her head at his silliness. “What do you want?”

  “Have this problem and I need a favor.”

  “What type of problem and what type of favor?”

  “G. W. Hicks is in town to talk about maybe adding the Gazette to his stable.”

  “I heard. How’s it faring?”

  “Well, he has this small stipulation.”

  “And it is?”

  “I need a wife.”

  She snorted a laugh before she could stop herself.

  “You find that funny?”

  “You need a wife like a goat needs an embroidery hoop.” She hung up another pair of socks. There were so many she wondered if they were somehow breeding when nobody was looking.

  “I’m serious, Jewel.”

  “And I’m not?”

  Eli knew this would be difficult; Jewel Crowley could be as irascible as her pa. “This may be my last chance to make something out of the Gazette. His papers are read all over the country. I can’t let this opportunity pass.”

  “You’re not making sense. What does Hicks buying the Gazette have to do with you needing a wife?”

  “Hicks believes bachelors are undependable and unreliable.”

  She stopped. “Should I speak to that or remain silent?”

  “The latter, please.” His smoke black eyes twinkled with amusement. She also had one of the wittiest tongues in the Grove. “Hicks won’t consider the Gazette unless I have a wife.”

  She fished more socks out of the tub and added them to the line. “So, who are you marrying? Do you need me to make a cake? Is that what this is about?”

  “No, Jewel. I figure, if I can get someone to pretend to be my wife for the short time Hicks is here, no one will be the wiser.”

  She shrugged and, after hanging up the last two socks, picked up the empty tub and rested it on her hip. “Sounds half-baked to me, but if you believe you can pull it off, I’ll keep your secret if I run into Hicks while he’s here.” She walked away.

  Eli raised his eyes to the heavens for strength, then hurried to catch up with her.

  “Hicks wants to meet her at dinner this evening.”

  “Okay. So who’re you going to ask?”

  “You.”

  She stopped, stared and began to laugh. “Me? Did you fall out of bed on your head this morning? I’m going to fix dinner.”

  He touched her gently on the arm. “Do I look as if I’m laughing?”

  Jewel searched his face again, the handsomest male face in the county. “You have women in Kalamazoo, Chicago, and all points in between. Use one of them.”

  “None of them can be here by five this evening.”

  “Then find someone else. What about Lenore?” Lenore’s father, James, ran the Grove mill. She was silly and vain, but she was unmarried.

  “Lenore Wilson couldn’t keep a secret if she was dead.”

  “What about Celeste Keppler over in Niles?”

  “She’s a lumber beast, Jewel. The rest of the time she doesn’t even wear shoes.”

  “So shallow, Eli.”

  His lips thinned. “This is not funny.”

  “No, it’s not, but I’m out of suggestions.” She was once again in motion and striding through the cropped grass toward the house.

  “Jewel—”

  “Go away, Eli. I don’t have time for your foolishness.”

  “Jewel, if you’d just listen.”

  “I’ve heard all I need to hear. No.”

  “Please, Jewel—”

  “Pestering me to death is not going to change my mind.”

  He gently grabbed her hand to keep her near. “You’re the only choice I have.”

  Jewel ignored the warmth from his touch sliding up her arm, or at least tried to. “Then you are in a serious fix,” she pointed out disengaging her hand.

  “That’s why I’m here. I truly, truly need your help.”

  “And so will my reputation when word gets out that I pretended to be your wife.”

  “Your reputation will be fine. We’re just going to have dinner with him. It isn’t like we’re going to stand up and make a grand announcement that we’re married. Afterwards, we’ll tell him you went to visit a sick aunt in Muskegon, or some other place. He’ll only be here a couple days. He’ll never have to see you again, or you him. Please, Jewel. Think about what the Gazette means to the Grove.”

  “Think about what size skinning knife my pa’s going to use on your hide if he finds out.”

  “He won’t.”

  “Why not ask Maddie?”

  “Hicks has already met her. Please, Jewel, I’m begging. I’ll do anything you ask in exchange. I’ll grovel, crawl on my belly like a snake. I’ll eat worms, dirt. You name it, I’ll do it.”

  The fervent plea sounded so boyish, she couldn’t keep her smile from showing.

  “That smile gives me hope.”

  “Save the charm for your mistresses.”

  Eyes filled with humor, he went silent for a moment then asked again, softly, “Please, Jewel.”

  She sighed. “If I say yes, I know I’m going to regret it. I can feel it as sure as I can feel the sun on my face.”

  “You won’t, I promise. One hour. That’s all. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll be dining in the Quilt Ladies’ private room. No one will even know what we’re discussing.”

  “Can’t you just tell him the truth?”

  “If I do, he’ll bankroll a newspaper somewhere else because he’ll think I’m a liar.”

  “Which in this case you are.”

  “Jewel, please. Please.”

  She sighed again and ran her hands over her face. “Okay. One dinner. One hour. One. That’s all.”

  “Thank you!” Grabbing her around the waist, he swung her around and the pleasure in his dark face made him even more handsome. “Thank you!”

  Laughing, she protested, “Put me down, you loon!”

  “I could kiss you.”

  “Don’t.”

  He set her down.

  The power of him was so overwhelming, she had to turn away or become a puddle at his feet. Grabbing hold of herself, she kept her tone cool. “We’ll be eating at the boardinghouse?”

  “Yes. I’ll come back and pick you up around four
so we can arrive together.”

  She looked down at the denims she was wearing. “I suppose I should put on a dress.”

  “Would you, please.”

  She shot him a look. “I’ll see you later.”

  “I owe you, Jewel.”

  “Yes, you do,” and she went into the house.

  It was a little past two in the afternoon, so Jewel had time to start the roast chickens and peel some potatoes for dinner. Her brothers, all of whom cut lumber and built houses for her father’s company were working over near Niles. Most times they were back by midafternoon. She had no idea how she was going to get gussied up and leave the house without them becoming suspicious. The only time she paid attention to her looks was for church on Sundays, but they’d known Eli all of their lives, too, and would probably go along with his ruse. However, there was no way her father would sanction such a harebrained scheme. Grove fathers guarded their daughters’ reputations the way dragons guarded gold, and Adam Crowley was no exception. Eli’s reputation as a ladies’ man was legendary. Her pa would be the first to admit Eli had become much more focused in life over the past few years, but that wouldn’t matter. Eli was a Lothario and Jewel was a virgin, and as far as her father was concerned never the twain shall meet.

  Supper was just about done cooking when her brothers came home. They tromped in loud and boisterous and greeted her with smiles. Meg, their mother, had died during Jewel’s eleventh year, and after her death, Jewel took over the running of the house. While her father and brothers felled lumber she handled everything from the wash to the cooking to the gardening, but refused to let her brothers help even when they insisted because she’d promised her mother on her death bed that she would take care of the Crowley men, and because Jewel could do the chores so much faster than they. But by the time she turned eighteen, she was so overwhelmed and overworked it had taken a visit from Dr. Lancaster to convince her to let the five big strong men help out. These days, Jewel continued to be the main housekeeper, but thanks to their assistance she was no longer tired all day every day, and in the evenings they took care of the dishes and righted the kitchen; a blessing.

  While her brothers ate, she hurried to her room to wash up and get dressed. Thanks to the shopping trips to Detroit and Chicago initiated by Dr. Lancaster and Abigail, Jewel owned a fairly decent amount of ladies’ attire—not that the Grove offered myriad opportunities to wear any of her purchases, outside of church or the occasional town dance, but this evening she was pretending to be the wife of Eli Grayson, and she thought her blue skirt and jacket would be an appropriate choice. Looking into the wooden framed mirror on her vanity table, she paused as she tied back her thick ebony hair with a matching blue ribbon, then shook her head at the ridiculous plan. Nothing good was going to come of this, but it was hard to tell him no. Most of the young women in the Grove had at one time or another been sweet on both Eli and his handsome older cousin Nate, and Jewel was no exception. However unlike the others who’d grown up and turned their hearts toward more realistic suitors, Jewel’s heart had settled on Eli and dug in, and she had no explanation why. She found her attraction to him silly and embarrassing. He never saw her as anyone other than the Crowleys’ little sister, and because she knew there was no way on God’s green earth she could compete with the fancy and sophisticated ladies he lavished his affections upon, she’d never let him know her feelings. Nor would she ever. The last thing she needed was his pity or, heaven forbid, his laughter. Now that his widowed mother, Abigail, was married to her widower father, he was family, not blood, but another brother nonethe-less, and that was the only relationship she needed or expected.

  Refusing to think anymore on the subject, she put the finishing touches to her attire, gave her reflection one last critical glance, and left her room.

  Her brothers had finished dinner by then, and were outdoors relaxing under the big oaks behind the house. She needed to tell them her plans for the evening, but before she went out to join them she looked around to make sure her father hadn’t stopped by to visit while she’d been dressing. If he were about he’d surely ask where she was headed, and since she’d never lied to her father and doubted she ever would, she’d have to confess the truth and then all perdition would break loose.

  But as she peered out of the window in the parlor, she didn’t see him.

  Outside, Paul, the eldest, took one look at her in her blue finery, and confusion creased his brow. “Is there church tonight?”

  She pulled on her matching crocheted gloves. “No.” She then explained Eli’s proposal. For a moment there was silence.

  Jeremiah, who most favored their mother and was second in the sibling line, asked, “And you agreed to this?”

  She shrugged. “Eli is family now. I’m simply helping him out.”

  Noah cracked, “That’s what Pa’s going to put on his headstone.”

  The brothers laughed. Zeke, who was shorter but wider than his brothers, said, “I think it’s a good plan.”

  Abraham shook his head. “You’re the one who thought setting up an ice shanty on the lake in April was a good plan.”

  More laughs. Zeke hung his head in embarrassment. He’d been fourteen at the time and so full of himself he refused to listen when his older brothers tried to explain the dangers of ice fishing in April. When the thinning ice under his shanty broke away and drifted into open water, taking him and the shanty on a perilous fifteen-mile ride down river, he realized the soundness of their advice. Only after the floe ground into a larger, more stable stretch of ice was he able to leave it and get back to shore.

  Paul brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Personally, I hope Eli’s plan works.

  Her brothers nodded.

  Jewel added, “And I hope Pa doesn’t find out.”

  Everyone agreed with that, too.

  Eli drove up a few moments later, and after setting the brake on his buggy, walked over to where the Crowleys were gathered. Once greetings were exchanged, he turned to Jewel. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Then let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.” He offered his arm. She studied it for a moment, then rolled her eyes and stalked off to the buggy. Eli turned to her brothers. “And we wonder why she doesn’t have a beau.”

  They all laughed and Eli hurried to catch up.

  When he joined her in the buggy, he looked her way. “You know, if this plan is to succeed, you’re going to have to act as if you like me.”

  “I like you fine.”

  “Then can you take that sour look off your face? You’re supposed to be my wife.”

  Exasperated, she sat back against the seat. “We’re going to be late.” Sighing with an exasperation of his own, he signaled the horse with the reins.

  As he drove past the enormous willow tree that stood on the edge of the Crowley property and out to the road, he glanced her way again, taking in her blue outfit. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” she responded before asking, “Suppose Hicks wants to know how long we’ve been married?”

  Eli shrugged. “How about we say a couple of years?”

  “Do we have children?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Pretending to be married is lie enough.”

  He was beginning to think that shoeless lumber beast Celeste Keppler might have been a better choice. He did note how different Jewel looked when she took the time to fix herself up, though. Because of the unconventional influence of Dr. Viveca Lancaster Grayson, many of the women in the Grove had taken to wearing denim trousers when they did chores, and since everyone knew Jewel worked from sun up to sun down he’d be willing to bet she slept in her denims as well. The only time she seemed to be without them was on Sundays. In reality, she was a beauty. She had clear brown skin, thick rippling dark hair, and a pair of intelligent black eyes that could shine with laughter one moment and cut you like an ax blade the next. She could be incredibly generous—case in point, her agreeing
to help him with Hicks—but she also had a wrath that could flay the hide off a grizzly bear. As a result, all of the Crowley men went out of their way to keep her happy, one because they loved her to no end, and two because she was a terror when angry. “Remember the time your brothers and I tore down the clotheslines playing lacrosse.”

  “I do, and you all never did it again.”

  He chuckled. “Birdshot can be a powerful deterrent.”

  On the day in question she’d asked that they not play lacrosse in the field until the laundry she had hanging on the lines dried and was taken down, but being older they’d dismissed both her and her request.

  “We couldn’t believe you were shooting at us.” One moment they’d been running pell-mell up and down the field passing the ball back and forth with their webbed sticks, and the next, birdshot filled the air sending them cursing, ducking, and scrambling for cover.

  “I couldn’t believe you all tore down two lines of wash and went on playing as if it was meaningless. I was furious.”

  “We could tell.” Once the shooting stopped, she made them pick up every piece of wash, restring the lines, and rehang the laundry, but she didn’t rewash anything. “Paul said you didn’t wash clothes again for a month.”

  “I did for Pa and me, but not for them. Made them suffer the July heat with dirty linens on their beds and unwashed clothes on their backs. The wash and I received a lot more respect after that.” She looked his way. “Whatever made you think about that?”