Brides of the West (11 page)

“Planning on going somewhere, my dear
wife?”

“You lied to me to trick me into returning to
Texas—into marrying you.”

He shrugged. “And you lied to me, too, so I’d
say we’re about even on that account.”

She withdrew a handkerchief from inside her
dress sleeve and blotted the perspiration on her forehead. “I do
not know what you are suggesting. How have I lied? Y
ou
deliberately withheld your true identity.”

“The boy. He’s mine isn’t he?” he asked point
blank.

She flinched and looked away, but said
nothing.

“What year was he born, Evangeline?”

She picked at her skirt’s folds. “That’s none
of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is. Your letters stated the child
was quite young. You married Payne seven years ago, did you
not?”

She visibly shuddered as he moved closer.

“The boy is older, Evangeline. He’s at least
nine, if not close.”

Her eyes lifted to his. “Mac is tall for his
age.”

“
Mac,
” he repeated. “That’s short for
MacKinnon, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer, reinforcing his
suspicions. A sickening wave washed over him. Quickly, he counted
the months from the time she’d left the Braddock ranch until the
date of her marriage to Garrick Payne. No, there was no way the
child was Payne’s. He couldn’t be. The boy he’d dismissed from the
room was much older than six or seven.

He stood before her and she cringed as if she
feared he might strike her.
What the hell?
His eyes searched
hers. He had never harmed a woman, and despite his anger, he didn’t
intend to now. “You were pregnant with Mac when you left Texas ten
years ago, weren’t you?”

She lowered her gaze, but said nothing.

“Weren’t you?” His voice boomed in the tiny
room.

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes lifted to
his. In them he saw the truth before she admitted it.

“Yes.”

He reeled away from her, feeling as if he’d
been punched in the gut. He’d suspected it weeks ago when he’d
learned the boy’s name was Mac. He drew a deep breath and clenched
his jaw, willing himself to calm down. The child was his son! Pain
tore at his heart at the revelation. How could she have kept this
from him all these years? His body trembled with anger as he looked
at her. “And you didn’t have the decency to tell me?”

Words tumbled out in a rush of breath: “Papa
threatened to kill you if I ever spoke to you again. He sent me to
the girl’s home in Georgia—to Reverend Garrick Payne’s School for
Girls. It turned out to be a blessing in some ways, a nightmare in
others. Mac’s resemblance to you at birth was indisputable, the
dark skin and eyes, his Indian features. Everyone at the ranch
would have known you were his father.”

He scarcely heard her words. His hands curled
and uncurled into fists. He wanted to punch something. No, he
wanted to shake the woman standing before him, shake her until
every tooth in her pretty blonde head rattled. She’d denied him his
own flesh and blood for a decade, years that could never be
reclaimed. Was she even aware what violence her father had
perpetrated upon him because of her lies? He doubted so. He blew
out a deep, pent up breath and forced himself to calm down before
his anger took control and he said something regrettable.

“I would have protected our child!” he
thundered out.

Her eyes were wild, frightened. “I couldn’t
take that chance, Wolf.”

“Even if it was a chance
I
was willing
to take?” he replied through gritted teeth.

Uncomfortable silence stretched between them
for several moments as he absorbed her words. She had fled Texas to
protect him? Is that what she expected him to believe?

He tore open his shirt, popping buttons from
their threads. She stared, horrified, her mouth open as he exposed
the wide scar on his throat.

Her hand lifted as if to touch it. She
quickly withdrew. “W-what...happened?”

“Your father gave this to me. He and half a
dozen of his hands beat the living shit out of me, then sliced open
my throat and left me to die. Only I didn’t die. I had at least one
friend on that ranch—John Patterson. It’s because of him I’m alive
now.”

Deep choking sobs erupted from her. She
turned her face away, but he grasped her by the arm and forced her
to look at him. “The time for crocodile tears is long past,
Evangeline. I want the truth. Why did you tell your father I forced
myself upon you?”

A look of horror spread across her face. “I
never told him such a thing! Oh, Wolf. Is that what he said?”

“You knew what they were going to do to me
that night, didn’t you. Why didn’t you warn me?”

Her lip trembled as tear-filled eyes lifted
to his. “I had no idea. I promised Papa I would never see you
again.”

“Liar!”

She clung to his arms, her eyes filled with
tears. “Please believe me! I had no idea what they’d done. I begged
Papa not to harm you. He agreed to spare your life if I would leave
Texas and go to the girl’s home to have the baby. He said I could
never contact you again, that if I ever returned to you he would
kill you
and
our child.”

Wolf jerked free from her clutches to pace
back and forth. Was she telling the truth? He paused before her.
Her face was sincere enough, but... “He said you accused me of
raping you.”

“I never said such a thing.”

His stomach roiled as he recalled that night.
“They beat me until my face was unrecognizable, until my ribs were
broken. They threatened to castrate me. Fortunately, they
didn’t.”

Evangeline slumped to the bed. He stared down
at her tiny shoulders which shook with each sob.

“Mac doesn’t know I’m his father, does
he?”

“No.”

He thought of the years he’d missed with the
boy, time that could never be recaptured. Although he was inclined
to believe she hadn’t been involved in her father’s sinister plot
to murder him, how could he ever forgive her transgression of
denying him his own flesh and blood? Didn’t she know he’d have
taken them away from the Braddock ranch—away from Texas? He would
have protected her and their child with his own life. Her father
never had to know of their affair.

He took a seat beside her. “How did Elijah
Braddock learn of your pregnancy if you didn’t tell him?”

She sniffled, daubed the handkerchief to her
eyes. “One of the housemaids told him. She knew I’d missed my
monthly.”

When Wolf had found her advertisement in the
mail order bride catalog six weeks ago, he’d reveled in the idea of
exacting revenge—of tricking her into marriage and making her pay
the rest of her life for the pain she’d caused. Now he had serious
regrets about what he’d done. What if she was telling the truth
about her father? If so,
he’d
been terribly wrong. And he’d
wronged an innocent woman. The very idea shook him to the core.

“Do you want an annulment?” he asked.

She turned her face to look at him. Tears
shimmered in her blue eyes, but she said nothing.

His body shook with both rage and shame. He’d
tricked her into marrying him! He dragged a hand through his hair,
his body trembling. There was only one thing to do—the right
thing.

“If you want out of the marriage, Evangeline,
I’ll give you money today to board a train back to Georgia. There
you may obtain an annulment. But the boy stays here with me.”

A look of horror spread across her face. “I
would never leave without Mac.”

He rose to tower over her. “And you’ll not
take him from me again either.”

Gathering her skirts, she stood to face him.
“But he’s my son!”

“He’s mine, too, and I’ll never let him go
again. You’re free to leave if you so choose, but my son
stays.”

***

Dinner at the restaurant that evening was a
near silent affair. Evangeline sat across the table from him,
picking at her meal. Mac possessed the appetite of three burly men
and ordered a second helping of fried chicken and buttermilk
biscuits. After dessert, Wolf dismissed the boy to his room to
speak privately with Evangeline.

“You’ve barely eaten,” he commented as he set
his napkin on the table. “The apple pie was delicious.”

She turned her face away. “I’ve no appetite
tonight.”

He studied her delicate profile, a short,
pert nose, small chin, long brown lashes. She’d gathered her shiny
blonde hair atop her head, pinned the curls with sparkling, jeweled
pins. Delicate wisps framed her oval face. The pale orange dress
she’d donned accentuated the natural blush in her cheeks, creating
a most stunning sight. She was the most beautiful woman in the room
and he hadn’t missed the open stares she’d elicited from both men
and women as they’d walked from the hotel.

“Shall I order another coffee for us?”

She bowed her head, folded her hands in her
lap. “Do as you wish, Wolf. I do not care for anything.”

He didn’t care for anything either. His
stomach had been bound in knots since the moment he’d laid eyes on
her outside the train depot. Did she hate him now? Or was she
merely angry? He half-wished she’d look at him so he might see the
truth in her eyes.

“What are you thinking, Evangeline?”

She looked at him, her blue eyes as cold as a
winter sky. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but hesitated.

“Go on,” he prompted.

“I never thought I’d see you again.”

That made two of them. When he’d found her
advertisement, a myriad of emotions had overcome him. Anger, rage,
betrayal. He’d wanted to hurt her, cause her as much pain as he’d
endured all these years without her. But when he’d reached out and
taken her by the arm and gazed into her eyes for the first time in
nearly ten years, he realized he’d never stopped loving her. How
was it possible to feel so much anger toward a person, and yet love
them at the same time?

“You haven’t changed much,” she continued.
“Only a small thread of gray in your dark hair. The years have been
kind to you, Wolf.”

His face warmed at her tender expression.
Damn, was he blushing? He swallowed the hard knot that formed in
his throat, feeling as flustered as a schoolboy. “The years have
been most gracious to you, too.”

She dropped her gaze to the napkin in her
lap. “My father is deceased now,” she said quietly. “He passed away
two years ago.”

Wolf already knew Elijah Braddock had died,
not that it made any difference. Did she expect him to offer
condolences for a man who’d tried to murder him? He sipped his
coffee and held back a caustic remark.

Evangeline’s eyes misted with tears. “I am so
sorry for what he did to you. Please believe I knew nothing of that
night.” She lowered her voice and glanced about as if to make
certain no one was eavesdropping. “I never told him you forced
yourself on me. That much I promise you on my life

He set his glass down. “Still, you admitted
we were lovers.”

She placed her napkin aside and fiddled with
her utensils, aligning them neatly beside the plate. “He already
knew. He’d witnessed us together.”

Wolf let out a pent up breath. That would
explain the man’s peculiar behavior toward him in the days leading
up to the attack. “That doesn’t excuse you from not telling me of
your pregnancy.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t, but the last night
we were together I lost my nerve. You spoke about leaving Texas to
buy a ranch in New Mexico. I saw how your eyes lit up when you
spoke of striking out on your own. I didn’t want to interfere with
your dreams.”

Anger rolled through him like a ball of fire.
His
dreams? His dreams were never about owning a damned
ranch in New Mexico! His fondest desire was to marry
her
, to
take her away from the bigotry in Texas so they might enjoy a life
together! He sprang from the table. Good God! Is that how she’d
felt? His stomach churned. “We should return to the hotel.”

She rose slowly. “You’re angry.” It wasn’t a
question.

He signaled for the check, then turned back
to look at her. How could she have misread his intentions all those
years ago? Had she thought their lovemaking meant nothing more to
him than a quick release? She was no dalliance. He’d never given
his heart so freely to a woman. He wasn’t in the habit of
deflowering virgins, either.

The waiter brought the check and he paid the
man. Looping his arm through hers, they strode out of the
restaurant. In silence they hurried along the walk.

“Might you slow your step?” she asked.

He had no intention of slowing.

She struggled to keep up with him. “Why are
you angry, Wolf? What have I done to upset you?”

He paused on the walkway, yanked his arm free
from hers. He caught her by the shoulders, squeezed them
gently.

“Did you truly think I didn’t care about you?
That I only used your innocence to satisfy my urges?”

She shuddered in his grasp. “Please, lower
your voice,” she said barely above a whisper. “Such a public
display is most unseemly.”

He glanced about. Several people had gathered
nearby to watch. Damn them all! Let them look for all he cared.

“It was you—” his voice broke, tears burned
his eyes—“you I wanted Evangeline, not some damned ranch in New
Mexico, not some elusive dream.”

***

In the hotel room, Evangeline prepared for
bed. Wolf spent a sleepless night in the chair by the door,
listening to her soft weeping. Sometime during the night, he awoke
to her fitful cries. She thrashed in the bed, sending the blankets
to the floor. He covered her with a quilt again and stood watch
beside her.

At one point, he fantasized of sliding
beneath the covers, awakening her with a gentle kiss. Would she
welcome his touch again or push him away? His sex grew and
lengthened, painfully so, and it took all the willpower he
possessed not to act on his desires. To do so would influence her
decision to stay in the marriage, and the last thing he wanted was
to force her into an arrangement she didn’t truly want.