Читать книгу The Unexpected Bride - Debra Ullrick - Страница 9

“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 Jesse to deal with.

To distract himself, he unscrewed the lid on his canteen and pulled in a long drink.

Minutes later, after they’d finished taking their break, he steadied her again until they reached the wagon.

She pointed toward the hillside and asked, “Would you mind if I pick some of those red and yellow flowers to take to your mother?”

Did she have to be so sweet on top of being beautiful? That combination was the worst kind to lure a man in. But he couldn’t turn her down. His mother loved flowers and thoughtful gestures like that.

“Sure.” He took her canteen and put both of them back into the wagon.

Making sure she didn’t slip on the small pile of thin rocks, he held her hand until she stepped over them.

She leaned over and broke the long stem off at the bottom and studied the bloom before she placed the flower under her nose and smiled. “These are quite lovely. What are they?”

“Red columbines. My mother’s favorite.”

She darted her gaze up at him and her face beamed, even though he had seen her fatigue just moments before.

She started gathering more and stopped only to dab the sweat off her forehead.

Haydon couldn’t bear to watch her suffer, so he jumped in and helped her. When they had a nice bouquet, they headed back to the wagon.

He grabbed his canteen and opened it, then retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and saturated it with water. “Hand me the flowers.”

She gave them to him, and he wrapped the soaked cloth around the stems. “That will help keep them until we get to the ranch.”

“Thank you.” Her smile lit up her face. She really was sweet.

Not liking that train of thought, he quickly helped her into the wagon, climbed up himself and down the road they went. A road that now seemed longer than it ever had been before. Having her sitting next to him had him squirming like a worm. The sooner he got them to the ranch, the better.

Rainee glanced at the flowers in her lap. It was very thoughtful of him to help her gather them and then help preserve them until she could give them to his mother. Her own mother never tired of getting fresh bouquets of flowers, and Rainee loved seeing her smile. How delightful it was to be able to do something nice for Mr. Bowen’s mother, too.

Soon she would be her mother also.

Her heart smiled with joy.

Rainee cut a sideways glance at him. Whatever it took, no matter how uncomfortable or how hard things became, she would make this situation work. Fear would not dissuade her from doing anything less. Besides, she had no other choice.

When the beatings became more severe, life-threatening even, after months of praying, she and Jenetta had concocted this plan of escape. Good thing their strategy had worked. Because the night she had fled she overheard her brother’s scheme to sell her to their fifty-eight-year-old neighbor—the repulsive Mr. Alexander, or Mr. Gruff as she called him. They were to wed that next day. Just thinking about it made her tremble. That man was cruel to his very soul. Just like her brother, Ferrin.

Thank You, Lord, for guiding my steps and for delivering me from Ferrin’s wicked plans. Help me to be a good wife to Mr. Bowen. And if You would be so kind, would You please delay the wedding ceremony to give us a little time to get to know each other before we wed? Thank You.

Rainee hoped God would especially answer her prayer about getting to know each other first because her intended was obviously a man of few words. And even fewer smiles. What if he was cruel like her brother? That thought frightened her. God have mercy on her if she had left one boiling pot for another. Or, she gulped, something worse.

She blocked out the distressing thoughts from her mind and took in the view around her. Several head of magnificent spotted horses grazed in a grassy meadow, which seemed to go on for miles. A frolicking black foal with a white spotted rump bucked and kicked and nuzzled its matching mother. A deep longing to spend time with her mother and to be a carefree child again bled deep into her soul, but self-pity would not change the past. She dragged her slumped shoulders into an upright position, determined to make the best of her new situation.

Farther up the road, she noticed a herd of pigs. She closed her eyes and cringed against the thousands of fingernails scraping their way up her spine. A deathly fear of the four-legged beasts had always plagued her, and she loathed the stench that accompanied them. Her nose wrinkled, and her mouth twitched just thinking about the offensive odor.

To get her mind off of the wretched creatures, she turned her attention onto an amazing cluster of lavender blooms covering the wide-open field. Curiosity got the best of her. “Mr. Bowen?”

He glanced at her, then back at the crusted road. “Yes?”

“Those purple flowers over there…” She pointed toward the field overrun with the fragile flowers. “What are they, please?”

“They’re Camas plants.”

“Camas?” Rainee tilted her head and shifted her parasol so she could look at him.

“Yes.”

“Are the pigs eating them?”

“Yes. They love them.” He looked out over the fields. “In fact, the hogs love the Camas bulbs so much the people around here actually call this place Hog Heaven.” He glanced at her. “Informally, that is.” His masculine lips curved into a smile.

And what a beautiful smile it was. She wished she could see more of them. If only she knew how to make that happen. But at present, that seemed improbable.

“What a dreadful waste of such lovely flowers.”

“It’s not a waste. The Camas bulbs are the only thing that helps the hogs survive the rough winters here in Paradise Haven. They’re about the only animal that can survive the winters here. For now anyway.” He glanced at her, then back at the herd of swine. “But, I’ve heard tell the railroad will be coming through here sometime soon. That’ll make it easier to get supplies to feed cattle through the winter so they won’t starve.”

Just how bad did the winters get here anyway? Although she wanted to ask, she also wanted to know more about the fascinating Camas plant. “Are they only edible to hogs?”

“No, humans can eat them, too.”

“Are they native to this area?”

“No. Farmers from back East brought them with them when they moved here.” The reins jiggled in his hands as he twisted his head toward her. “I’m sure glad they did.”

She wondered why he was glad, but nothing more was said. She also wondered how much farther it would be before they would arrive at his place. Her arms ached from holding her parasol upright, but every time she lowered it, the hot sun burned through the fabric of her jacket.

Minutes later, at the base of a mountain, they rounded a clearing in the trees. A very well-kept, large, two-story clapboard house flanked by long windows with white shutters came into view.

Rocking chairs, small tables and a porch swing sat under a covered porch, making it look quite welcoming. Off to the left of the house, a makeshift scarecrow on a stick watched over a large garden.

Nestled up against the trees set two smaller but generous-size clapboard homes. They, too, had covered porches, a swing, rocking chairs and small tables—and were equally adorable as the larger house.

A young girl with blond braids skipped around the corner of the house. As soon as she spotted them, she hastened their direction. “Haydon! You’re back,” she hollered and slowed her pace when she neared the horses. “Did you brung me anything?”

Haydon laughed.

Rainee liked the deep rumbling sound.

“You’re too spoiled for your own good, Squirt. I hate to disappoint you, but I didn’t bring you anything. I didn’t go to town for supplies.”

The little girl scrunched her brows and looked up at Rainee. “Who’re you?”

“Abigail. Mind your manners.” Mr. Bowen stepped on the brake and tied off the reins before jumping down.

“Sorry.” She lowered her head, her long braided pigtails reaching down her green cotton dress.

He ruffled the little girl’s hair, then turned and extended his arms toward Rainee. Situating her belongings out of the way, she laid her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to help her down.

The instant her feet touched the ground he removed his hands from her waist and stepped back as if she had bitten him.

“Miss Devonwood.” Haydon looked at her, then at the small child. “This is my sister Abby. Abby, this is Miss Rainelle Devonwood.”

Rainee smiled down at the girl with the blond hair and sapphire eyes so like her brother’s. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Abby.” She gave a quick curtsy as was customary back home when greeting someone. “But please, call me Rainee.”

“Nice ta meet ya, too, Rainee. I like the way you talk.”

“I like the way you talk, too. You have a lovely accent.”

“I dun’t got no assent.”

“Accent,” Mr. Bowen corrected her again.

“That’s what I said. Assent.”

Rainee waited to see if he would correct her again, but he shook his head and mussed her hair once more.

“Haydon. You’re mussing my hair.” She planted her hands on her waist and narrowed her eyes, but even Rainee could see the smile in the young girl’s frown.

“Sorry, Squirt.”

“Thas okay.” Abby smiled at her brother, then glanced over at Rainee. Her brows curled, and her forehead criss-crossed. “Whach you doin’ here?”

“Never you mind, Little Miss Nosey.” Haydon tapped his little sister on the nose and winked. “Listen, Squirt, would you do me a favor and run over to Jesse’s and ask him to come here?”

Abby bobbed her head and darted off toward Jess’s house.

Haydon wasn’t sure if his brother was able to be up and about yet, but if he was, then he needed to get his sorry backside out here and deal with this awkward mess.

Without looking at Miss Devonwood, he wondered what he should do or say before his brother got there.

“The place is quite lovely.” A whisper would have been louder, but the awe in her voice screamed loud and clear.

Haydon scanned the ranch, trying to see the place through her eyes. He always thought this area was some of the most beautiful country he’d ever seen, but for some odd reason it pleased him that she thought so, too. Oh-h-h no you don’t, buddy. Who cares what she thinks? She’s not staying.

“Who lives in that house?”

He followed her finger. “My brother and his wife.” The brother that sent for you. But he can tell you that. Not me.

“And that place?” She pointed to his house.

“That’s mine.” As in mine alone. As in, not yours and mine.

She faced the main house. “Then this must be your parents’ home.”

“It’s my mother’s.”

She turned questioning eyes up at him.

Quit looking at me with those beautiful peepers, ma’am. “My father passed away a couple of years ago.”

Sympathy passed through her gaze, and he forced himself to look away. “Oh, my. I am so sorry.” She laid her hand on his arm. Something about her gentle touch sent warmth spreading through his veins.

He stared at the spot where her hand rested. The gesture touched him, but at the same time it sent warning signals flashing through his brain. Her politeness and sweetness were driving him crazy. He dropped his arm to his side, letting her arm slip from his. He didn’t want to feel any kind of a bond to this woman—or any other woman for that matter.

Then he made the mistake of once again looking at her face. Hurt and discomfort gazed back at him. She looked so small and vulnerable. Guilt trailed through him like hungry red ants at a picnic, chewing away at his conscience. His thoughtless gesture had hurt her, and she didn’t deserve the treatment he had dealt her. But then again, he had to protect himself. He needed to harden himself against the emotions she seemed to stir up in him so easily. Emotions he wanted no part of. The sooner Jesse dealt with her, the better. Just keep telling yourself she’s not your problem, Haydon, and you just might survive this situation with your sanity and heart still intact.

He turned toward Jesse’s place, wondering where Abby was and what was taking her so long.

“Excuse me, please?”

As much as he didn’t want to, Haydon faced her again. “Yes?”

Her eyes locked on his for the briefest of moments before her lids fluttered, and she looked toward Jesse’s house. “Is Abby the only one who does not know why I am here?” She turned those wide innocent fawn eyes up at him again, and his heart lurched.

The last time Haydon saw a look like that was on a puppy he’d owned as a child. That puppy had won his heart and had gotten whatever it wanted. Haydon swallowed hard. Rainee’s not a puppy. She’s a woman. And not just any woman. She’s the most dangerous kind there is. Sweet and innocent-looking, and beautiful. “Miss Devonwood, I—”

“Haydon!” Abby’s voice carried across the yard.

Haydon wanted to hug his sister for saving him. He spun her direction and watched as she ran toward him.

“Jesse got hurted this mornin’ and he can’t come.”

His heart dropped to his boots. He had hoped Jess would at least feel well enough by the time he got back that he could deal with Miss Devonwood. Now what?

“How come I didn’t know he got hurted?”

“Hurt, not hurted,” Haydon corrected. “Because you, Mother and Leah were gone all day, remember?”

Abby hiked her little shoulder. “I forgetted.”

“I forgot.”

“Did you forgetted too?” Her round eyes smiled up at him.

“No, I didn’t forget. You said… Oh, never mind. Why don’t you run along and go play now?”

“Okay.” She skipped back toward the corner of the house and disappeared.

Haydon turned toward the sound of Miss Devonwood’s twitter.

Her gaze lingered in the direction Abby had gone.

“Just what do you find so amusing, Miss Devonwood?”

Rainee reeled toward him and blinked. Amusement, not anger, fluttered across his handsome face. “Abby is lovely.” She stared at the spot where the little girl had disappeared. “To think that precious girl is going to be my sister is so—” Rainee’s eyes flew open and hot blood rushed into her cheeks. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

Merciful heavens! What is wrong with you, Rainelle? Since you got here, he has not mentioned the subject of marriage even once, and here you are talking about Abby being your sister. No wonder Mother had to rebuke you so often. Will you ever learn? She gazed longingly at the forest of trees, wishing she could flee into their thickness and hide away forever.

She turned and retrieved her parasol, handbag and the flowers from the bench seat.

“Haydon. Where have you been all day?”

Rainee whirled toward the big two-story house. A tall, lithe woman strolled toward them and stopped directly in front of her.

The handsome blonde lady with powder-blue eyes looked up at Haydon and quirked one delicate eyebrow. “Sorry, I didn’t know we had company.”

“Mother, this is—”

When he stopped speaking, Rainee looked up at him, wondering why he quit talking. Obviously he was not going to say anything more, so Rainee took matters into her own hands. She turned her attention to his mother. “Good afternoon, ma’am.” She curtsied. “I am Rainelle Victoria Devonwood.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Devonwood. I’m Katherine, Haydon’s mother.” Katherine looked perplexed as she glanced from Rainee to Haydon and back again.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bowen.”

“Please call me Katherine. We don’t stand on ceremony out here. Feel free to address all of us on a firstname basis.”

Rainee looked at Mr. Bowen. Mother had always made it clear a man should never call a woman by her given name unless they had known each other for a long time or were courting. Neither one fit this scenario.

His jaw worked back and forth again, but after a few seconds, he glanced at her. “Mother’s right. Call me Haydon.”

Relief drizzled over her like a warm summer rain. One more detestable rule of etiquette she would not have to follow out here. Mother and Father would not approve of her choice to call someone by their first name, but Rainee loved it. It was much more personable.

“Thank you, Haydon.” Using his Christian name felt quite strange and yet lovely at the same time. “Please call me Rainee. I prefer it over Rainelle.”

“Rainee,” he acknowledged. “Rainelle is a beautiful name, though. I’ve never heard it before.”

Rainee blushed under Haydon’s compliment. “My father was British. It was his mother’s name.” Her gaze lowered and she noticed the flowers in her hands. She extended the bouquet toward his mother. “These are for you, Mrs. Bowen.”

“It’s Katherine, remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.” It would take Rainee a while to get used to addressing an elder by their given name but the very idea brought a smile to her face.

Katherine took the flowers, and her eyes brightened as she smelled each one. “Oh, I love flowers. And these are my favorites. How very thoughtful of you to take the time to pick them for me. Thank you, Rainee.” Katherine smiled and again her questioning gaze swung between Rainee and her son.

The joy of the moment evaporated as quickly as it had come. A sinking feeling came over Rainee. Had this man not mentioned her to any of his family? What was going on around here?

Rainee’s blood flow slowed way down—either from all the heat she had endured the last several days or the realization no one seemed to know anything about her.

“Don’t just stand there, Haydon. Can’t you see Rainee isn’t feeling well? Help her inside and get her a glass of water.”

She wanted to protest, to say she was fine, but she never got the chance. Haydon was at her side, escorting her into the house and onto a comfortable sofa.

“You’d be more at ease, Rainee, if you removed your jacket and hat. May I?”

She nodded.

Haydon helped her out of her traveling jacket and set it on a nearby chair.

She removed the pins from her hat, wondering if she looked a fright.

He took her hat and set it with her jacket. “Would you like me to take your gloves too?” He extended his hand toward her.

She clutched her hands together and squeezed them until her fingers throbbed. “No. No, thank you.”

A quick nod her direction, and he left the room. Within minutes he returned with a full glass of water. “Here. Drink this. You’ll feel much better.”

When she reached for the glass, their fingertips overlapped. A warm tingling sensation started at the tip of her fingers and spread up her arm and into her body, causing her to shiver and very nearly drop the glass.

Haydon yanked his hand back, and she barely kept the glass upright between them. For a brief moment, he stared at her with a look of sheer horror. Then he whirled and disappeared through the doorway as if the house were on fire.

Had he felt what she had? Her heart was still fluttering from that one touch.

If he had, was it a bad thing or a good thing? If his reaction was any indication, it must be quite bad.

Too tired to ponder that, she tipped the water glass to her lips. The tepid water tasted almost sweet. She drank the whole glass of liquid within seconds, even though it was a very unladylike thing to do.

“Feel better?”

Rainee looked over at Katherine, who strolled into the living room and sat in a chair across from her.

“Thank you. Yes,” she answered even though she really did not feel better, but she hated any displays of weakness. Yet, sitting here on a comfy sofa, out of the hot sun, her eyelids felt heavy with fatigue. She struggled to keep her tiredness from showing.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Katherine rose. “Would you please excuse me for a moment? And please make yourself at home.”

After the woman left, Rainee folded her hands in her lap, not knowing what to do.

Her gaze roamed the living room. On the left of the fireplace were two wine-and-tan-colored wingback chairs. On the right was a matching high-back settee and a tan rocking chair. The wine-and-tan sofa she sat on faced the fireplace. End tables with doilies and oil lamps graced each side of the sofa. The place reminded her of the spacious living room back home. Except this place had Queen Anne–style furniture, and back home the furniture was Chippendale. Sadness crawled inside her, but she shooed it away like an unwanted bug. Dwelling on home would do her no good. No good at all.

Weeks of traveling and being jostled about and the realization no one seemed to know about her had taxed her greatly. Her eyelids were heavy and her stomach was queasy from a lack of food. She really should have eaten something when Haydon had offered. But knowing she was penniless and seeing all those men in Prosperity Mountain leering at her, she just wanted to get away from them as fast as she could.

Her eyes slid shut, and her head bobbed. She sat up straighter, forcing herself to stay awake, when all she really wanted to do was to succumb to sleep and dream about what could have been. Finally she could fight sleep no longer and everything around her faded as she fell into its waiting arms.