Lonesome Bride (16 page)

"Love is patient,” she said to the beetle trundling its way through the grass. “Love is kind. Love is generous. Love is truthful."

Jed Peters was none of those things. Yet the mere thought of him caused her heart to thud in her chest. It must be my body, she decided. Her dreadful, betraying body. It had nothing to do with her heart, her mind, those pieces of her that made up her soul. It had nothing to do with love.

"I cannot love him,” she whispered to the beetle. “Love a man who would betray his father? Who would take advantage of an innocent woman? I cannot love a man like that."

She waited for the sting of tears that did not come. She had spoken the words aloud, and still, she did not cry. It was possible, she thought, his last words to me cured me of my foolish attraction to him.

"Should I thank him, do you think?” She touched the beetle's black-satin shell with the tip of one finger.

The beetle, of course, did not answer her. Instead, it disappeared into the dirt, leaving nothing behind to indicate it had been there at all. Caite tapped the ground, but the bug remained hidden.

"I wish I could disappear like that,” she whispered. “Disappear from Heatherfield, from Serenity, from everywhere."

Foolish, again. Where would she go? Caite imagined herself trudging through the mountains toward California, where she would either learn to pan for gold or become a schoolteacher. Despite her low feelings, the ghost of a grin fluttered on her lips. The thought of standing in front of a dozen rambunctious children and trying to teach them their letters was almost enough to make her chuckle out loud. She did not have much patience with children.

Would she, though, if they were her own? Her arms curled as if to cradle a baby, but she let them drop to her sides. She could not think of having children with a man she did not yet know, even if she had signed a contract.

"I'm sure he's a wonderful man,” Caite told the beetle, which had reappeared and was now making its careful way across her printed cotton skirt. “He will make a wonderful husband, and I a wonderful wife. We shall live happily ever after."

The beetle seemed as unconvinced as she was. Carefully nudging the tiny creature to the ground, Caite stood and brushed herself free of the clinging bits of grass. The thought of sampling some of Rose O'Neal's bubble-up bread cheered her slightly.

The trip from the stream back to the house seemed to take only half as much time as the outgoing trip had. That was always the way, it seemed. The less you wanted to do something, the faster you seemed to get there.

"Well, howdy, Miss Caite!” Shorty called out to her from the corral as Caite came into view.

She raised her hand in greeting. The ranch hand could always make her smile. “Hello, Shorty!"

The cowboy nodded toward the house. “Reckon there's something going on in there you might want to know about."

Caite stopped, stared around the yard. A pair of unfamiliar horses, a large gray gelding and a smaller, brown-spotted pony, were hitched to one of the porch rails. Each was loaded with a number of various sized packs.

"Visitors?” she asked.

Shorty's smile lacked its usual brightness. “Just go on inside and find out, Miss Caite."

Her heart triple thumped. Voices from inside the house wafted to her on the warm summer breeze. Lorna's voice, then the lower, rumbling tone she recognized as Jed's. A few more voices she could not place.

"Buck?” she asked, turning to Shorty.

Shorty chewed thoughtfully on a long spike of hay, then tipped his hat at her uncomfortably. “Just go inside, Miss Caitleen."

At first, she was afraid her feet would not move. She knew it was Buck Peters. It had to be. She was not ready! She was rumpled and windblown. She had wanted to look her best, to impress him. Now what would he think of her?

Slowly, she managed to put one foot in front of the other. A cheerful face, she reminded herself, forcing the smile back to her lips. Her face felt frozen in false joviality, but it would have to do.

"I'm as nervous as ... as a bride,” she whispered, realizing that's exactly what she was.

Caite looked to Shorty for help, but he had disappeared back into the barn. She was on her own. I could, she supposed, just stand here in the yard like a fool until someone comes out and finds me. That would not do at all.

Calm down! she admonished herself, forcing deep breaths in and out and clenching her fists in her skirt to stop her hands from trembling. Buck Peters is a kind man, a generous man, she mentally repeated
. He sent for a bride to share his home. He is kind, he is generous...

"Oh, fiddle faddle,” she at last sputtered, when she realized she was no closer to the porch than she had been a minute ago. “You came all the way from Pennsylvania on a train by yourself, Caitleen O'Neal. You can walk a few feet to meet the man you came here for!"

She felt instantly better. She gave her hair a last smoothing, her skirts a last shake. Now that the moment was here, she had to admit she was almost excited. After all, not every day did a woman meet the man she was going to marry.

The great room was empty. Her courage faltered momentarily. Bolstering herself, she headed back the short hallway to the kitchen, where she could hear conversation. There was no sense waiting.

Although she had thought she was walking sedately, it seemed as though she fairly flew around the corner into the dining area. The hum of conversation instantly stopped at her arrival. Caite found herself the focus of everyone's attention.

"Sorry I'm late,” she said, relieved to hear her voice did not quiver and she did not sound out of breath. “I was enjoying the stream."

She saw Jed in one corner, hat tipped low to cover his face. Albert was in his usual spot in the doorway, with Lorna beside him.

"Hello, my girl,” said the tall, silver-haired man in front of her. “You must be Caitleen."

"Yes,” she answered, feeling the heat rise to her face. She could see his resemblance to Jed immediately. “And you must be Buck."

Buck Peters took her outstretched hand in both of his, looking at her, then away quickly. He seemed as though he wanted to speak, but was having trouble finding the words.

"Come inside,” he said finally, tugging her more into the center of the room.

As she stepped further into the dining area, Caite caught sight of the petite, dark-haired woman sitting just behind Buck. As the older man brought Caite gently around the table, the woman rose, an uncertain smile hovering on her face. She was beautiful Caite had time to note.

"Yes, I'm Buck,” the man holding her hand said at last. He placed his other hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder. “And this is Sally Miller. Sally Peters now. She's my wife."

The smile melted from Caitleen's face like wax from a burning candle. A vast and unrelenting buzzing filled her ears. While she was certain people were talking around her, she could not make out their words. Numbly, she pulled her hand from Buck Peters’ grasp and felt it fall woodenly to her side.

"I see,” she managed at last to say through a mouth that suddenly felt filled with dust.

"Caitleen, I'm real sorry,” Buck Peters said gently. “I didn't get the telegram saying you were coming. We owe you a mighty big apology."

"Heavens, don't be absurd. You had no idea I was coming. You had every right to do as you pleased,” Caite heard herself say, forcing a smile onto her face. She clapped her hands briskly together to disguise her embarrassment. “I shall just go and pack my belongings."

Turning, she left the kitchen before anyone could stop her. She expected to feel tears as she hurried down the hallway to Buck's room, but instead, her eyes felt as hot and dry as an oven. She hurdled through the door, immediately seeking out her trunk. She began to toss her belongings inside carelessly, wanting only to keep moving. Anything to keep herself from thinking about the humiliation she had just endured, and the predicament in which she found herself.

When she heard the soft rap on the door behind her, Caite's first thought was to remain silent. Perhaps whoever had decided to intrude upon her shame would take the hint and go away. She did not think she could bear to hear well-meant advice, or worse, words of consolation.

"Caitleen?” she did not recognize the musical voice, but Caite knew whose it was.

"Yes?” she asked brightly, turning from her trunk to face Sally.

"I came to see if you are all right,” the dark-haired woman explained quietly.

Caite laughed hollowly. “Certainly. I shall be all packed up in a few more minutes..."

Sally crossed the room on cat feet and placed her tanned hand across Caite's much paler one. The women locked gazes. Sally's cornflower-blue eyes were filled with compassion. At the sight of such obvious sympathy, Caite felt the cursed fickle tears spring into her eyes.

"You don't have to leave,” Sally said gently.

Caite laughed again, bitterness tingeing her voice this time. “Of course I have to leave, Sally. The man I came to marry has a wife. There's no place for me here."

"Still, you're welcome to stay,” Sally replied calmly, moving aside to allow Caite to finish throwing garments into the trunk. “That is, if you have no place else to go."

At those words, Caite sank wearily down onto the bed. The bed, she realized too late, which Buck would share with Sally. She did not have the strength to rise.

"I do not have a place to go,” she said quietly. “But I cannot stay here."

Sally sat down next to Caite and took her hand. “Of course you can.” She gave a gentle smile. “Buck tells me there's plenty of space at Heatherfield. There's a lovely room just off the kitchen. It isn't as large as this room, but I'm sure you'll like it."

"You would not find my presence ... awkward?"

Sally's brow furrowed in curiosity. “Would you feel awkward?"

I certainly would, Caite thought, but not for the reasons Sally might think. “I don't know Buck Peters, even though I had intended to marry him. I certainly harbor no jealousy toward you, if that is what you're thinking. In fact, I'm happy for you both."

"I know how strange and terrible this must seem to you."

Caite shook her head. Now that she had time to think about the situation, she was really quite relieved. She had been more apprehensive about marrying a stranger than she had thought. “Strange, yes. Terrible, no."

Sally clapped her hands gleefully like a child, and gave Caite a swift hug. “Then you'll stay?"

"I can't impose on you..."

"Buck signed a contract that said he would provide for you,” Sally interrupted. “When we found out you were here, he was very certain he wanted to hold up his end of the agreement."

"But he signed that contract long before he knew I was coming!” Caite protested. Already she knew Sally would not take no for an answer. Despite her delicate appearance, this woman was as tough as shoe leather.

"He signed the contract saying he would provide for the woman Pastor Jonas sent. Here you are."

"Buck is a good man,” Caite said. “But he is really under no obligation to me at all."

Sally chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “Stay then until you have a place to go."

"Pardon?"

Sally repeated herself. “When you have a place to go, then make plans to leave. Until then, you are welcome here, Caitleen."

Caite thought hard for a moment. Staying at Heatherfield meant staying close to Jed. Could she endure the torture of being so close to him and remembering what had passed between them, yet knowing he did not care for her? What were her choices? Returning home meant marriage to Drake Hammond. Since she could not very well go off to pan for gold, she supposed being an old maid school teacher was her only option.

"I shall stay,” she decided suddenly. “But only until I have a place to go."

She would just have to make sure she found a place soon.

Jed's excitement burbled in his chest like a stream running through a meadow. His father had a wife! Buck no longer needed a mail-order bride. Jed paced the length of the front porch, his long legs eating up the floor. He reached the end and turned back, his thoughts keeping pace with his strides.

Jed had been just as surprised as everyone else when Buck had arrived at the ranch with Sally beside him. And, like everyone else, his thoughts had turned immediately to Caitleen and how she would take the news. Unlike the others, however, Jed's thoughts took a different twist.

Sure, he supposed Caite might be upset and embarrassed. But heck, she'd get over it. Especially once she saw, as he did, that the situation couldn't be more perfect. Once she saw that now they could be married.

Jed stopped his pacing, and leaned on the porch railing.
Married?
Did he really want to marry the little firebrand?

"Heck, yes!” he whooped, unable to keep the excitement bottled up inside him any longer.

Caitleen O'Neal was everything a man could want in a woman, and more. She was smart, passionate and beautiful. She was strong-willed, but so was he. He thought of the way she had moved beneath him and felt the stir of arousal in his groin. She was a sensuous lover, a great hand at checkers, and her appetite proved she would always set a good table. He'd be a fool not to marry the woman. Besides, he had taken her virginity. It was his duty.

"Caite has decided to stay on with us,” his father's new wife told him from the doorway. Jed turned.

"Just until I find a place to go,” Caite added. Her smile was not as bright as Sally's.

"We just finished telling the others,” Sally told him. “We wanted you to know, too."

"I'm glad to hear it.” Jed's heart beat faster at the sight of Caite's lovely green eyes flashing at him. He needed to talk to her alone.

The women had turned to go back inside the house. Without wanting to seem too obvious, Jed followed close behind. He managed to grasp Caite's elbow just before she followed Sally into the kitchen.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Caite?"

"You go ahead,” Caitleen told Sally. “I shall be in directly."

"Don't be too long,” Sally smiled. “My mouth is watering to try some of your bubble-up bread!"