Читать книгу His Substitute Mail-Order Bride - Sherri Shackelford - Страница 15

Chapter Three

Why did Russ have to be so perceptive?

Pursing her lips, Anna pointed at the distant horizon. “Is that Cowboy Creek?”

“Yes.”

“It’s larger than I expected.”

“The train route helps. We have a thriving depot.”

“That’s nice.”

“I promise I only have your best interests in mind,” Russ said. “If you reconsider, and you’d like a friend, I’m here for you.”

She was desperately trying to evade his questions. Most men enjoyed talking about themselves. Why must he keep turning the conversation back to her?

“You know the truth.” She twisted a bonnet ribbon around her finger. “I’m a widow. I borrowed Susannah’s ticket. I need work. You know everything there is to know about me.”

Her pulse thrummed in her ears. Though she longed to confide in someone, she caught the words before they escaped. If he knew what they were saying about her in Philadelphia, he’d never agree to help. At best, he’d treat her with pity, at worst, derision. This was her one chance to start over. She didn’t have any other choice but to remain silent.

“Anna,” he began, “I don’t feel I know you at all. Not anymore.”

“All I need is a job reference,” she said. “Finding work benefits both of us. I’ll be able to repay the cost of the ticket sooner. Unless you’re uncomfortable. We haven’t seen each other in years, after all.”

“I’m happy to give you a reference. I’ll do whatever I can. You have to know that you can count on me for help.”

Anna narrowed her gaze. What if she was making a terrible mistake? Trusting the wrong man had led her down the path of destruction once before. What if he wanted something in repayment for helping her? She didn’t have much to give. Perhaps he was being charitable, or perhaps not. These past few years had her questioning everyone’s motives. Though he must know she had nothing to offer, she’d best be on her guard.

“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound surly.”

She’d take him at his word that he’d help her find a job. Nothing more. Cowboy Creek was her best chance at living free of the scandal, and she most certainly wasn’t confiding in anyone about her recent troubles. Especially Russ. With his past connections in Philadelphia, he could rip open the story before she had a chance to escape again.

“I understand pride, Anna.” He glanced at her askance. “Just remember that pride often comes before a fall.”

“Pride is not the problem.”

She had more important things to consider. Things like surviving to the next week, the next month, the next year. Pride was the least of her worries. The news in Philadelphia had shredded whatever vanity she might have possessed.

“Then I won’t press you,” Russ said.

Her heartbeat slowed to a normal rhythm once again. “Thank you.”

“We’re almost there. I’m sure you’ll want to rest after we’ve visited the doctor.”

For now, she’d be grateful for the things that had turned out well. At least she wasn’t stranded in the next town over. At least she’d made it this far. At least he didn’t know about the scandal. Yet.

He was suspicious of her. Sooner or later that skepticism was going to get the better of him, and he was going to make inquiries. He’d sent to Philadelphia for a bride, after all, which meant he kept in touch with people he knew there. How long could she hide? Once he mentioned their renewed acquaintance to his friends back east, someone was bound to share the salacious gossip. After all, it had only been three months since Edward’s death had made her a widow.

At least letters traveled slowly in this part of the country. Perhaps by the time he discovered her secret, she’d have enough money to relocate to another town.

“I don’t need a doctor,” she grumbled. “I just need a little rest.” She stifled a yawn. Lately, it felt as though no matter how much she slept, she still needed another hour or two.

Russ touched the gash on his forehead. “The doctor is for me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“Relax, Anna. I’m teasing you. I’m trying to put you at ease. You used to enjoy my jokes.”

She tugged at a loose button on the wrist of her glove. “That was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then.”

He rested his hand over hers, dwarfing her fingers in a brief embrace before pulling away. “You have my condolences on your father.”

His touch stirred up long-dormant feelings. The statement was a diplomatic concession considering the treatment he’d received from her father following the jilting.

“His death was painless.” Her stomach dropped. Russ knew her father had passed away, therefore he must keep in touch with people back home. People who might share the circumstances of her husband’s untimely death. “He didn’t suffer.”

“Losing a loved one is never easy.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs once more. He was going to discover the truth, and then what? Would he keep her secret?

“He always seemed invincible.” She tugged on the loose thread. If she lost the button on her glove, she’d never find a match. She’d have to replace them all. “He was always such a powerful presence, I somehow thought he’d live forever.”

“I suppose we all think our parents are invincible when we’re young.”

A memory tugged at the edges of her recollections. There was a hint of scandal surrounding Russ’s father, though she couldn’t recall the exact circumstances. She’d been too young at the time, and whispered conversations had come to a halt when she entered the room.

She yanked the button free. What did buttons matter? What did any of this matter anyway? There was no use delving into either of their pasts. After today, she doubted she’d see Russ again. He probably wanted to be rid of her just as quickly as she wanted to escape his company.

Disappointment warred with relief. The less he saw of her, the less likely he was to consider her past.

If only he was the ogre she’d invented over the past five years instead of this handsome, solicitous savior. Then again, nothing else had gone as planned; why should her experience with Russ be any different? She’d missed the train, she’d been accosted by outlaws, and Russ wasn’t the cruel villain she’d invented after he’d jilted her sister. The more she knew about him, the more he challenged the assumptions she’d brought forward from all those years ago.

She was tired. She was out of sorts. Perhaps she simply wasn’t reading beneath the surface of his actions. The facts were firmly embedded in her memory: Charlotte had eloped weeks after the jilting to avoid the scandal, and their father had disowned her. Anna hadn’t spoken to her sister since.

If Charlotte and Russ had married, then Anna would still be in touch with her sister. If she’d had Charlotte to lean on after their father’s death, she might not have entered such a hasty and unfortunate marriage. If Russ had greeted her announcement about Susannah with anger and recriminations instead of pushing his feelings aside, then she’d feel better about deceiving him.

If. If. If.

The disparity in the villain she’d created and the man before her made her all the more determined to repay her debt quickly. Yet more questions balanced on the tip of her tongue. Considering the outsize role Russ had played in her life, she didn’t know much about him. He’d been in the war. His father was gone. He had siblings. That’s all Anna could recall.

Against her better judgment, she was hungry for information about the life Russ led outside of his law practice. Perhaps the information might even be useful as she settled, albeit temporarily, in the town.

“You lost your father, too, didn’t you?” she asked.

“He’s not part of our family any longer.”

Shock rippled through her. She’d always assumed the hint of scandal was linked to his father’s death, but the evasive answer pointed to something else. “What was he like?”

She didn’t know why she’d asked such a personal question beyond a nagging sense of puzzlement about his father. Even if Charlotte had known the truth, she was hardly likely to confide in her younger sister.

“He was a good man,” Russ said, his voice flat. “Proud. Honorable. Loyal to his family. Too proud, sometimes.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stirred. Though his words were glowing with praise, the tone didn’t match his sentiment. There was a slight edge in Russ’s voice, a pursing of his lips when he spoke. As someone familiar with keeping secrets, she recognized the signs. There was more to Russ’s father than what he was saying.

“You have a brother, as well, don’t you?” she prodded.

“Two of them, to be precise. Seth lives just outside of Cowboy Creek with his new wife. They recently adopted three boys and his wife’s niece.”

“Oh my, that’s quite a household.”

“I haven’t seen my younger brother, Adam, in years.” This time the sorrow in Russ’s voice was obvious. “I used to receive letters, but I haven’t gotten one in months. I don’t even know if he’s alive. I have to believe he’s still out there somewhere. I don’t know why, but I feel as though I’d know if he was gone.” Russ scoffed. “That probably sounds stupid.”

“Not at all.”

Anna’s eyes burned. Charlotte had always been a distant, ethereal creature. The years between them had been a chasm. Charlotte had been older and elegant, with little patience for a younger sister with dirt beneath her fingernails and muddy circles over her knees from digging in the garden.

Even during the war, Charlotte had been sought after by the young bachelors in the community. She’d had pale blond hair, soft blue eyes and a delicate figure. She spoke in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. Everything about her seemed to attract men like honeybees to nectar.

How many times had Anna knelt on the balcony above the parlor, peeking through the railings, when Charlotte was holding court? Charlotte had been a fragile porcelain figurine. She was to be looked upon and admired but never touched or bothered. Most of her beaus had ignored Anna. Not Russ. He’d always brought her a sweet or an extra flower. He’d wink at her, as though they shared a special secret.

For someone who was largely ignored in the household, she’d found his attention heady. Anna had adored his visits. Then he’d betrayed Charlotte. He’d betrayed their family. He’d betrayed her.

Yet despite her better judgment, Anna was still drawn to the man before her. Did she trust her feelings or the facts? Did she trust the man who’d been kind to a lonely young girl, or did she accept that he’d callously thrown aside her sister and tossed their family into disarray? How did those two men exist in the same person?

A wagon passed them, and the driver tipped his hat.

“We’re almost home,” Russ said. “The traffic will be heavy soon.”

Home. For now. The future remained uncertain.

A skyline of boxy structures appeared above the horizon. The town was larger than she’d expected. Buildings sprawled into the distance, undulating over the rolling hills. Additional frame structures in various stages of completion surrounded the outskirts. A few of the buildings rose three stories into the sky. A train whistle blew, and she caught sight of a steam engine leaving a trail of smoke.

Another rider passed them at a gallop, the horse’s tail whipping in the wind.

The nearer they moved toward the town, the more wagons and riders appeared. Everyone seemed to know Russ. He made introductions and soon all the faces blurred together. After meeting countless new people, she gave up even trying to remember their names.

As though sensing she was overwhelmed, Russ caught her gaze. “New visitors are always a curiosity. Especially when a bride train comes in.”

She touched the side of her bonnet. “Will there be any awkwardness for you, because of Susannah?”

“No.” He bent his head. “I kept the news to a select few. I’ll tell them all soon enough. After I’ve read Susannah’s letter.”

Anna recalled the letter with a jolt. Had Susannah mentioned the scandal? The thought hadn’t even occurred to her before now. Pressing a hand against her pounding heart, Anna took a deep breath. There was no reason for Susannah to reveal anything about her. Anna was merely the messenger. Her role hardly warranted a mention.

Russ pointed toward a shopfront. “Marlys Mason is the town doctor. She’s got some newfangled ideas about how to treat illness, but she has an excellent rate of success, so people mostly take her advice. It’s too bad that some of the old timers won’t see a woman no matter what the circumstances.”

“A lady doctor?” Anna had never considered such a thing but immediately liked the idea. “Why shouldn’t a woman be a doctor?”

“Folks get stuck in their ways, but times change. Sometimes it just takes a little longer than we’d like.”

“Women should get to be whatever they want to be.”

Anna had wanted to write articles about gardening for the local newspaper, but her husband had disapproved. He didn’t want his colleagues to think his wife had to work for a living. Especially at something as coarse and common as the women’s pages.

Russ made a sound of frustration. “Looks like the doc is out. She often assists the town midwife, Leah Gardner, when there’s a challenging case. It’s difficult to keep regular hours.”

A large chalkboard had been set up beside the etched glass window of the doctor’s office. Russ climbed from the wagon, retrieved the whittled piece of chalk dangling from a length of twine, then wrote Anna’s name along with The Cattleman as her place of residence.

Anna made a note of the street. She’d return later and erase her name. A doctor’s visit was an added expense she could ill afford.

“Put down your name, too,” Anna insisted. “You should have that cut stitched.”

“I’m fine. It’s too late for stitching anyway.”

“If I must see the doctor, then so must you.”

Russ dutifully wrote his name and her gaze narrowed. She had a suspicion he’d come back and erase it too as soon as he ensured she was settled. She stifled a giggle. They’d run into each other if she wasn’t careful.

“I’m going to ask Dr. Mason tomorrow if you’ve come for a visit,” she said.

Chagrin flickered over his features, and she grinned.

“All right,” he said. “But this works both ways. I’ll know if you’ve skipped your appointment, too.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Except I wasn’t hit over the head.” She couldn’t very well ask the doctor if he’d visited if she wasn’t planning on doing the same. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been ill, and someone should look at that cut on your arm.” He climbed into the wagon once more. “Don’t worry, the visit will be charged to the town.”

Her cheeks burned. The only thing more humiliating than being destitute was having everyone else know her circumstances. One needn’t be a Pinkerton detective to ascertain the situation. She hadn’t exactly concealed the fact. She’d begged Russ for a job before, and she was traveling on a borrowed train ticket she couldn’t repay. As demeaning as her circumstances may be, she didn’t suppose there was any harm if Russ knew the truth of her finances. He’d be more likely to assist her if he knew the dire nature of her situation.

“I’m not one of the brides,” she said. “And I can’t accept any preferential treatment on false pretenses.” She might as well set her circumstances straight from the beginning.

“The mayor is responsible for the reputation of the town. Having a lady accosted on the road outside of Cowboy Creek is most definitely bad press. Indulge him, if only for the sake of community pride.”

“If a visit to the doctor will set the mayor’s mind at ease, I suppose I can concede the point.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Perhaps Dr. Mason had some suggestions for regaining her energy. The next few months were going to be difficult, and she needed her stamina. She had to stash as much money as possible before Russ—or someone else—discovered her secret.

“This may be my only opportunity to meet a real live lady doctor. How can I pass that up?” she said.

“You never know, we may have as many female as male doctors in the future.”

“The mills of the gods grind slow,” she quoted.

“But they grind fine,” Russ completed Plutarch’s line.

Perhaps finding a job here wouldn’t be as difficult as in Philadelphia. A little anonymity didn’t hurt. Having one’s name slandered in the newspapers impeded gainful employment.

The town vibrated with activity. Men on horseback and people driving wagons laden with supplies jockeyed for position along the wide, well-kept streets. Shoulders brushed, and a sea of hats bobbed along the boardwalk. Townspeople passed each other in opposite directions, many calling greetings to one another. Russ was forced to wait several minutes before he eased the wagon onto the street once more.

A low whistle sounded, and she glanced around. A man tipped his hat at her with a leering grin.

Russ glared at the man, and the whistler rapidly disappeared into the crowd.

“I’m sorry for that,” Russ apologized. “Let me know if you have any trouble. In some respects, Cowboy Creek is little more than a glorified cow town. Women are still somewhat of a novelty around here.”

Another wave of nausea that had nothing to do with her previous illness rippled through her stomach. She didn’t want attention. She didn’t want to be courted.

“How do I make them stop?”

“Get married, I suppose.”

“Not likely.”

His expression shifted. “I’m sorry, Anna. That was a thoughtless comment given your circumstances. Please accept my apologies.”

He thought her a grieving widow. He couldn’t be further from the truth. One thing was certain, for someone who’d had her fill of men, she’d picked a terrible place to start over.

“It’s not your fault.” She didn’t want him to be kind. She’d forgotten kindness even existed. “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t missed the train.”

“Why did you miss the train?”

“Bad timing. That’s what Mr. Ward said this morning. He said life is all about timing.”

Even if she’d been older when Russ had come to call on her sister, he’d have never glanced her way. There were few women who didn’t pale in comparison to Charlotte. There was no use pining over the past.

Life was all about timing, and she’d been handicapped by a faulty watch.