Shameful Celia (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 3) by Carré White

picture. “Please don’t meddle in my things.” After inserting the picture within the pages, he slid it back onto the shelf. “These matters don’t concern you.”
    “I'm sorry. I’m mostly done with the novel you gave me. I was only looking for something else to read.”
    “You finished ‘Vanity Fair’ already?”
    “Mostly.”
    “You may choose something else, Celia. I don’t mind in the least, just … just leave that book alone.”
    “Who is she?”
    He closed his eyes. “That’s none of your concern.”
    “She’s lovely. She must be quite special to you, if you keep her picture inside a book of romantic poetry.” And now he looked like he might throttle me. “Oh, never mind. I’ve made breakfast, but I won’t stay. I’m making a nuisance of myself. I’m sorry.”
    He ran fingers through his hair. “You’re not a nuisance, but you’ve hit on a sore spot. I’m not used to having people in my home going through my things, no matter how innocent it all is. Why do I have to explain myself to you? Why do I have to tell you everything?” His features ranged from angry to confused with a liberal sprinkling of exasperation thrown in for good measure. “Why do I even want to tell you anything? Why do I think you’ll understand?”
    I felt utterly confused. “Pardon?”
    “You’ve infiltrated my life from the day we met. I’ve been trying to make sense of it all, but it’s the most vexing thing. Maybe it’s because you’re all alone and with child or you look so damnably fine to me. How on earth could I have feelings for someone I don’t even know, and whose condition is so different from mine? You’ve little or no schooling, but you’re extraordinarily smart. You saved me from death last night, and I didn’t even have the grace to thank you.”
    His odd speech and confession had my rapt attention.
    “Why can’t I live forever in abject misery, pining for her? I never thought I’d feel that way again—ever. It was the most wondrous thing the first time around. God would never allow it to happen again, not to me. But here it is!” He turned away to pace aimlessly around his living space, stepping over a pillow that had fallen to the floor. “This has to be some form of insanity. That’s the only explanation.”
    “She was someone you loved.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “In Missouri.”
    “Yes.”
    “A long time ago?”
    “Before I came here. I never intended on settling in Boot Creek. After Emma left me, I didn’t care where I went. I simply bought a ticket and got on a train, and it took me to Lamy. From there I found my way here. I lied when I said I came here with a friend.”
    “I’m sorry it didn’t end well.”
    “So am I.” He sank onto the sofa, holding his face in his hands. “We all carry a burden in life, Celia. We all must suffer.” He glanced at me. “You should go. I really wish to be alone.”
    “I understand. I’ve breakfast heating in the oven. If you don’t eat it, it’ll burn, so do remember to remove it.”
    “Did you eat?”
    I grinned. “Yes. It’s so lovely to have food whenever I want. I’m spoiled now.” He struggled with some demon I could not fathom, and he had all but said he loved me, because I was certain I had understood him, but he remained tormented. Our eyes met, as he gazed at me, but I would never know what he thought because he did not speak. “Good day, Nick. May I come back for lunch?”
    “I’ll be at the church. Do what you want.”
    I smiled, but the feeling was bittersweet, because it felt as if he pushed me away. “Very well.”
    “Take the poetry book, if you must. I’ve read them all a thousand times. I could recite Keats, if you ask. Each and every one of his blasted poems.”
    “I’d adore that.”
    “I know you would.”
    Reaching for the doorknob, I said, “Maybe another time then, when you’re feeling better.”
    “Yes, perhaps, but that’s a condition I’m not used to. The longer you’re around