The Unexpected Bride. Debra Ullrick
the fire. It broke her heart watching the edges curl into black ashes. They were her only reprieve from the stuffy social world she lived in, a world overrun with rules of proper etiquette, rules she had a hard time obeying because they all seemed so meaningless and empty.
The wagon seat dipped, jolting Rainee’s mind from past shadows. She looped the handle of her satchel over her wrist and opened her parasol, careful to keep it out of Mr. Bowen’s way. Careful to keep herself out of his way as well.
His arm brushed against hers, and his broad shoulders took up a goodly portion of the now cramped seat.
Leather, trail dust, and a scent that reminded her of her father after he had shaved drifted up her nostrils. More reminders of home. A home that no longer existed.
Once again, she could not believe she was about to marry a complete stranger. One she had placed an advertisement for. That act alone was scandalous. Claws of dread pierced her insides as she realized once again what she had done. The need for air threatened to swallow her up, but she sat up straighter and fought for every breath. No fainting spell would overtake her. Not this time. Though they had been a problem in the past, she vowed as of this moment she would fight them with all her might.
Mr. Bowen snapped the reins. The wagon lurched forward and Rainee clutched the side of the seat to keep from jostling into him, but her shoulder collided with his anyway, and their eyes connected and held for the briefest of moments.
Long after he turned away, however, the memory of his eyes the color of sparkling sapphires stayed with her. Eyes that were handsome but held no warmth. Only a sort of detachment and something else she could not identify. This was going to be a very long ride indeed.
Haydon couldn’t wait to deliver the woman to his brother. This well-bred, beautiful woman sitting next to him was the kind he now avoided like poison ivy because they were shallow and cared about nothing but fancy balls and frippery. Appearance and financial status were everything to them. And he’d had his fill of that type of woman.
“Mr. Bowen.”
He wanted to ignore her but his conscience and upbringing wouldn’t allow him to be rude. “Yes?” Haydon gave her a quick glance.
“You said in one of your letters you lived in Paradise Haven with your family.”
His body tensed. He didn’t write those letters, so he had no idea of their contents. No knowledge about what her response had been. What her advertisement was about. Haydon shifted his weight and ran his thumbs over the leather reins.
He looked toward the mountain dotted with several clapboard buildings and mining shafts as he struggled with what to say or do, wishing he could flee into one of those mines and hide out until this whole mess was over and done with.
“Would you mind telling me about them?” Her soft voice was a tad shaky, but her asking spoke of a confidence he couldn’t deny.
He let out a breath of relief. At least that he could answer. “My brother Jesse is twenty.” He glanced at her, then back at the dirt road. “His wife’s name is Hannah. They’re expecting their first child in a few months. They have their own place on the ranch. My brother Michael is sixteen. My sister Leah is thirteen and Abby is five. They live in the big house with my mother.”
“What about you? Where do you live?” Words poured from her mouth like thick honey. Sweetness and innocence surrounded this woman. This woman he wanted to get away from as quickly as possible, he reminded himself. Even though she seemed harmless enough, he knew just how deceiving appearances could be. His former wife Melanie had taught him that. The dread of going through something like that again twisted his gut tighter than a three-stranded rope.
“I have my own place on the ranch.” Concerned she would start asking him more questions, he decided to ask her about her home life instead. He only prayed it wasn’t something she had already shared in the letters or her advertisement because then he would have to inform her that he wasn’t the one who had sent for her. And he wasn’t going to do that. That was Jesse’s job. “What part of the South are you from?” he asked, keeping his eyes forward.
Talons of fear scraped up and down Rainee’s body. How did he know she was from the South? She had not told him that in her letters or her advertisement. She had even gone so far as to have one of her friends post her letters and advertisement in Chicago.
What should she tell him? Not one to tell falsehoods, she would have to choose her words carefully. She gathered her courage and forced herself to look at him.
“I’m sorry. Perhaps you aren’t from the South. I just assumed with your accent that you were. But then again—” he rubbed his chin “—your mannerisms remind me of some of our neighbors back East. They were British.”
Rainee’s muscles relaxed.
“My Father was raised in England, and my mother was raised in the South.” Before he could ask her any further questions, she plucked up her courage to say what she had wanted to say back at Prosperity Mountain. “Mr. Bowen, I know you must think it quite strange for a woman to post an advertisement in search of a husband. But please believe me when I say I had no other choice.”
Her brother had seen to that.
Chapter Two
“Mr. Bowen? I am sorry to disturb you, but could I trouble you to stop? I am in need of a break.”
He looked at her flushed face and the damp tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have let you rest a while before we left Prosperity.” Remorse for his ungentleman-like manner and his inconsideration doused him with shame.
With her head tilted off to the side, questioning eyes peered out from under the brim of her hat. Sensing it took a lot for her to ask, he wanted to put her at ease. “I could use a break myself. Whoa, Lulu. Whoa, Sally.” He pulled on the horses’ reins. The tack jingled and the wagon creaked as it came to a stop.
He hopped down and set the brake, then wrapped the reins around it.
The woman beside him rose and closed her parasol, leaving it and her handbag on the seat before moving toward him.
He reached up toward her. When she placed her hands on his shoulders and he sprawled his hands around her small waist, feelings long buried deep inside him poked through the protective wall he’d built around his heart.
He hurried to set her down and once he knew she was stable on her feet, he extradited himself from her as fast as possible.
“Thank you.” Her gaze trailed toward a small creek. “Please excuse me.”
As much as his gut wanted him to, he couldn’t leave her to traverse the rocky ground by herself. Thin rock and rough terrain wouldn’t bode well with her fancy dress. Haydon retrieved two canteens from the back of the wagon. “Allow me to help you.” Even though he didn’t want to touch her again, he slung aside the turbulent feelings raging inside him and clutched her elbow to steady her.
When they reached level ground, ground devoid of rock, he released her elbow. The cluster of pine trees brought a welcoming reprieve from the hot sun.
He filled their canteens with river water and handed her one. She twisted the lid and tilted it up, taking a long drink. His gaze landed on her sleek, graceful neck. She leaned over and refilled her canteen, then dipped her hanky into the tepid water and daintily blotted her face and neck.
What a vision she was. A lady of poise and grace. The epitome of femininity.
Quicker than a flash, an image of Melanie invaded his mind, bringing with it all the bad memories. Memories he’d rather forget.
That Jess, he groaned inwardly. It’s all his fault I’m even thinking about Melanie again. Well, buddy boy, nothing will induce me to get involved with a woman again. Nothing.
The sooner he got this task over with the better. When he got back to the ranch, he’d hand her over to