Читать книгу Whirlwind Bride - Debra Cowan - Страница 6

West Texas, 1883

“Hello, Mr. Holt. No, Riley. I should call him Riley” Two hours after arriving by stage in Whirlwind, Texas, Susannah Phelps stood on the wide, dust-covered veranda of Riley Holt’s large frame house. During the ride out here, she’d tried to think of the best way to start this conversation. Blurting out “I’m here to marry you” would not do.

Susannah felt like a mail-order bride who hadn’t been ordered, and it didn’t sit well. The October air was cool, but the sun, glaring down from a clear sky, kept the temperature from being sharp. She stayed warm with her blue wool cape and gloves. Red Texas dust hazed the air, coating everything with a rusty film and settling in the creases of her navy serge traveling skirt.

This was a lonely, isolated pocket of the plains.

Sprawled in the middle of browning pastureland, the white house with black shutters looked conspicuous and stark amid the red bluffs and short, endless grass. She’d never imagined Riley would have such a grand home; her expectations had been of a crude log cabin or a sod house.

For the third time since arriving, Susannah tugged at her bodice and smoothed her skirt, then paced the few steps to his front door. Sweat dampened her palms. She’d worn her gloves all day, but now they were too hot. She peeled them off.

A man named Matthew Baldwin had been kind enough to drive her from Whirlwind to Riley’s ranch, the Rocking H, but his buckboard had added to the bruises on her derriere. Four days of travel from St. Louis by train and stage, combined with her pregnancy, had left her more than exhausted. Her legs and feet were swollen to the size of German sausages, and she really wanted to sit down. But, having made up her mind to accept Riley Holt’s marriage proposal, she was ready to settle things.

Miss Elmira Wentworth of Miss Wentworth’s Finishing Academy in St. Louis would fall to the floor in a dead faint if she knew what Susannah was about to do. This was the most unladylike thing she’d ever done.

Susannah glanced down at her belly. Well, not the most.

As always, the reminder of her disgrace brought searing memories of the horror and anger on her parents’ faces. Her mother and father had actually let her leave St. Louis without saying a word! She’d eagerly agreed to Adam’s plan to come to his friend in Texas. Not because she shared the man’s desire to marry. No. She, like her brother, had thought their parents would relent before she left, would put aside their anger. They hadn’t.

So here she was in Whirlwind, a dusty Texas town that might as well be on the other side of the world. She was the one who had been hurt in this whole mess, the one person whom everyone had turned on. Paul LaFortune, especially, had betrayed her. She’d loved him with all of her young, innocent heart. His talk of “their future” had seduced her, had had her believing his sweet, empty promises that he’d loved her as much as she’d loved him.

She’d given him not only her virtue, but also her heart. She wouldn’t be so foolish again. Wherever Paul was, things were probably perfect for him. She was the one who’d been banished, the one who was slinking away to an unfamiliar town to marry a stranger.

True, Riley Holt was one of her brother’s best friends, and Adam trusted him implicitly, but Susannah had never met Riley.

She rested a hand on the barely visible swell of her stomach. She was just beginning her fifth month, and so far her condition had been concealed by full skirts and looser clothing. At first, the baby had been only an extension of the scandal that had disgraced her and forced her to leave St. Louis. But now the reality of this tiny life, and the enormous responsibility it brought, had sent her to Riley Holt’s door. This trip was not just about her. She was all this baby had.

It was up to her to provide for her child’s every need—food, a home, love and security. Even if it meant marrying a man she didn’t know.

Miss Wentworth and her parents aside, Susannah had to go through with it. Squaring her shoulders, she knocked.

When there was no answer, she knocked again. Uncertainty tightened her already dry throat. Surely Riley was here. He had to be here.

Skirting the mound of baggage Matthew Baldwin had stacked before she’d insisted he leave her alone at the ranch, she walked to the east end of the veranda. The long stretch of porch that ran the length of the house was empty. Only a whitewashed windmill broke up the expansive acres of prairie grass. She certainly hadn’t expected a windmill, usually rare in these parts. Down a soft slope, red long-horned cattle roamed.

Susannah walked back across the front and to the opposite end of the porch, her gaze skipping over a spring house next to the main house. A weathered but sturdy barn stood several yards away. A clang sounded from inside. She straightened.

Nerves prickled at the back of her neck and she balled her gloves in one hand. She returned to the steps, her lace-up travel boots clicking hollowly on the wood. After a slight hesitation, she started toward the barn. The clanging sounded again, sharp and metallic. She sucked in a deep breath and struggled to calm her nerves.

The pungent odors of animals and manure drifted to her. She wrinkled her nose and kept moving, despite feeling disconnected and a little lost.

Wide double doors were slid back, revealing the barn’s hazy interior and another opening of the same size at the opposite end. Metal smacked metal twice, then was followed by a curse.

The husky baritone caused an odd flutter in her stomach, a flutter that had nothing to do with the baby. She stepped forward, out of the cool sunshine and into the dim barn.

After a moment, she was able to define the row of stalls on either wall, the slatted doors, bridles hanging neatly on each wooden beam that separated the cubicles. Saddles were draped over the stable walls, from behind which big, dark eyes stared at her.

Horses. She inched back against the door, curled her fingers around its edge. The sharp clang of metal sounded to her left and she turned.

A man bent over a pump, his back to her. Despite the shadows, she could see the span of broad shoulders beneath the white shirt. Even thinking himself unobserved, he seemed to command attention, filling the space with some undefinable aura of power.

Suddenly, as if he felt her presence, he straightened and turned, freezing when he saw her. He moved out of the shadows, holding a greasy wrench. His hard, even features were blatantly male, compellingly confident. Had Adam told her Riley was so big?

So … intimidating?

Spurred by nerves and uncertainty, she blurted, “I’m here.”

One dark brown eyebrow arched. “Uh, yes, you are.”

Oh, bother. She hadn’t once practiced saying that. Frustrated and uncertain, she rubbed her forehead. “I mean, hello.” Riley stepped into the light then, and she saw that his eyes were a piercing blue. “May I help you, ma’am?”

“I’m Susannah. Phelps?” He grinned. “Are you asking me?”

“No! I am. Susannah Phelps, I mean.” She gave a wobbly smile.

“Adam’s sister?”

“Yes.” Relief washed through her and she smiled more widely, dismayed to realize she’d crushed her gloves into a ball. “You received Adam’s telegraph?”

“Yes.” Still looking surprised, he tossed the wrench aside, then pulled a rag from the back pocket of his denim trousers and began wiping his hands. “What are you doing out here? How did you get here?”

“I thought … didn’t Adam tell you I was coming?”

“Yes. Well, to Whirlwind.”

“Oh, good.” A beam of sunlight showed up the gold in Riley’s sun-streaked brown hair and angled over his bronzed features. His blue eyes set her pulse to pounding.

Nothing about this man was pretty or soft or gentle. Strength and power carved every line of his body. His worn white shirt molded a wide shelf of shoulders, a deep chest. He was commanding and rugged and authoritative.

That intent gaze suggested a leashed restlessness, as if he were surrounded on all sides by walls or worse, a firing squad. A raw tension vibrated from him, belying the polite smile that never really reached his eyes, the low calm voice. Everything about him spoke of hard work and labor and sweat, a far cry from the men who’d squired Susannah about, men who spent their days in their father’s law office or shipping business. Riley was a man of the land who owned his world.

His gaze skimmed over her, from her loose chignon to her dusty shoes. A wariness slid into his eyes, and something sharp, hungry.

Though he’d become fast friends with Adam at university nine years before, Riley had never returned Adam’s visits or come to St. Louis. But Susannah had seen a photograph of him with her brother. The grainy image looked nothing like this man. The poor reflection certainly couldn’t capture the blue of his eyes or the power in that body.

His gaze dropped to her lips and her pulse tripped. Taking a step back, she pressed closer to the door. He made her as nervous as those horses did. There was a restive energy about him that reminded her of the animals, as if he were too wild to be confined.

He looked away, shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t realize you were coming to the ranch.”

“Oh. Yes.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, glad she’d taken the time at the stage depot to brush out her skirt and wash her face. Still, she would’ve liked a bath. She felt awkward and unwelcome. “I’ve interrupted you.”

“Just working on the pump.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he frowned, tucked the dirty rag back in his pocket. “How was your trip? Did you take the stage?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you staying?”

Maybe that jarring stage ride had addled her brain, but she suddenly felt as if she were in the wrong place. Susannah frowned.

Riley studied her. “Adam sounds happy in his new marriage.”

“Oh, he is.” Pressure tightening her chest, Susannah rushed to take advantage of the opening Riley had given her. “Pardon me for being forward, but don’t you think we should discuss the marriage?”

He stared blankly at her.

“I’m in agreement. Are … you?”

Tilting his head, he studied her, shadows softening the hard angles of his face. “Sure. I think Adam will be happy.”

Oh, dear. Her hands fluttered to her throat. “I didn’t mean—I wasn’t talking about Adam’s marriage.”

“No?”

She swallowed. Why was he making this so difficult? Was he teasing her the way he had a moment ago? She could see no humor in those dark blue eyes, only a mild curiosity. “I know you never spoke to me directly, but Adam said you were in agreement.”

“I was in agreement?” Riley’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He took a step toward her; his hard body seemed to close off what little air she had. “About what?”

Feeling as if she were being cornered by a wild stallion, Susannah noted how her heart was thudding painfully against her ribs. Adam had said Riley wanted her and she’d believed him. However, at the moment, Riley didn’t seem like a man who wanted her. At all.

Unsettled, she rushed on. “I realize my coming to you was forward, but I had to. Since you’d already spoken for me, I didn’t think it would be too much a breach in etiquette.”

“Your coming to me?”

“Yes.”

“Spoken for you? Are you saying.” He cleared his throat, his gaze locking on hers. “You think we’re going to get married?”

“Yes.” She nearly shouted in relief. “Everything’s in order. I’m in complete agreement. There’s just one thing—”

“I’m sure as hell not in agreement,” Riley exclaimed.

“What?” Susannah squeaked.

For just a moment, his eyes hardened and he paled as though she’d stuck a gun to his head. Then he grinned and stepped around her to move outside. “Where is he? Adam!” he called. “Come on out! The joke is over.”

“This is most certainly not a joke,” Susannah huffed, turning in a swirl of skirts. Panic flared. What was going on? The only reason she had come to this godforsaken dust pit was because Adam had said Riley wanted to marry her, and she needed security for her baby.

“Phelps, you snake!” Laughing, Riley started for the house, his strong legs eating up the distance over the hard ground.

Susannah followed, her senses spinning. Honestly! “He isn’t here. I’m alone.” And destined to remain that way, it seemed.

Riley pivoted, causing her to stop abruptly or run into his massive chest. He braced his hands on his hips. “What’s all this talk about marriage then?”

Temper flaring, she mimicked his pose. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get married?”

“Me? No.” He chuckled.

“You didn’t tell my brother you wanted to marry me?” she demanded with a jerky wave of her hand.

“No. Absolutely not.”

It took a second for the full import of his words to sink in. “No?” she said weakly, her hand falling to her side.

He must’ve seen the color drain out of her face because his smile faded. His voice softened. “No.”

She thought she might be sick all over his dusty boots.