Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02] (15 page)

BOOK: Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02]
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“If anything leaves a lot to be desired, it’s your ridiculous requirements,” he said.

No longer was he thinking about Kip or even Hank. The truth was, he was still smarting at the way she so easily dismissed him the first day they’d met and deemed him unworthy of her consideration. Not that he had any interest in a wife, of course. Certainly, he wasn’t interested in her sisters. Nor did he have anything to prove. It just wasn’t right to judge a man based solely on his profession or bank account. Not right at all.

She backed away. “I’m only trying to protect my sisters,” she huffed.

“Protect them, Miss Higgins? Or shackle them?”

She tossed her head. “If you were doing your job—”

“If you would kindly allow me to.”

The stared at each other like two wild animals in a territorial dispute. The standoff might have gone on forever had Timber Joe not rushed into the office, shouting, “The Yankees are coming!”

Twelve

An inappropriate suitor should be quickly and thoroughly banished
before he wins the heart of his intended.

— M
ISS
A
BIGAIL
J
ENKINS
, 1875

J
enny marched back to the hotel looking neither left nor right. Still shaken from her meeting with the marshal, she wondered yet again if coming to Rocky Creek hadn’t been a mistake.

She expected more from the town, more from its people. Maybe she should leave and go to Houston or maybe even Boston.

She still couldn’t believe that Brenda would sneak out in the middle of the night to be with a man. That was something Mary Lou would do, not dear sweet Brenda.

So deep were her thoughts she would have walked right by the hotel desk had the clerk not called to her. “You have a message, ma’am,” he said, yawning.

“Thank you.”

Jenny took the message and unfolded it, approving the fine quality of linen stationery. It was from Mr. Hampton, who graciously agreed to meet with Brenda instead of Mary Lou. Jenny couldn’t believe her good fortune. After last night, she was more anxious than ever to get Brenda settled into a good marriage before she pulled another scandalous stunt.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached into her reticule for a coin, but already the clerk had dozed off again. Never had she seen anyone sleep so much. She left the coin on the counter before turning away.

Her spirits lifted, she walked upstairs only to find the room filled with doom and gloom.

Mary Lou sat on the bed in full pout. Brenda gazed out the window in some sort of trance.

“I’ve got good news,” Jenny announced cheerfully. “Mr. Hampton has graciously agreed to court Brenda.”

Mary Lou rolled her eyes. “Lucky Brenda.”

Brenda didn’t even bother pulling her gaze away from the window.

Jenny walked across the room and stood by Brenda’s side. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you,” she said. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

“Kip is what’s best for me,” Brenda mumbled.

Kip? Brenda called him by his given name? Had things really progressed that far? Oh, dear. It was worse than she thought.

Jenny laid a hand on Brenda’s shoulder. She shuddered at the memory of seeing Brenda leaving the barbershop in her nightgown and slippers. Oh, the shame, the shame. Where had she gone wrong? Was it because she had been so lax in seeing to Brenda and Mary Lou’s religious training all these years? Was that the problem?

“A man who would entertain a woman in the middle of the night simply isn’t to be trusted.”

“I trust him,” Brenda said, her voice muffled.

“You weren’t even dressed. He has no thought or care for your reputation. Brenda, please. All I ask is that you give Mr. Hampton a chance.”

Brenda turned away from the window. Her eyes were dull, her face blotchy from crying. “Kip is the only man I’m interested in.”

Jenny threw up her hands. “You can’t possibly know that. You don’t even know any other man.”

Brenda gave her a beseeching look. “I know
him
. He’s the only one who accepts me for who I am.”

“That’s ridiculous. I accept you.”

“No, you don’t!” Brenda cried. “You’re always trying to change me. To turn me into something I’m not.”

Jenny stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “That’s not true, Brenda. It’s not.” Jenny took her sister’s hand. “I just want what’s best for you. I don’t want you to ever—”

Brenda’s gaze sharpened. “Ever what? What don’t you want me to do?”

Jenny searched for words. “Go hungry or have to struggle.” She glanced at Mary Lou, who sat watching from the bed. Jenny was used to arguing with Mary Lou, but never before had Brenda given her this much trouble.

“Please, Brenda. All I’m asking is that you give Mr. Hampton a chance. What could it hurt?”

In the end, Brenda agreed to go out with him, but Jenny didn’t have much hope that she would look upon the man with much favor.

Later that night, Jenny sat brushing her hair when a knock came at the door.

She glanced at her sisters. Brenda hadn’t spoken to her since their argument and had refused to eat. She now sat at the desk, writing in her diary. Mary Lou gloomily stared out the window.

Since neither one of them showed an inclination to see who was at the door, Jenny laid the brush on the dresser and hurried to open it herself. It was Rhett.

Scooter stood next to him, his head hung low. His face was clean and his hair combed, but his clothes were filthy and his bare feet black with dirt.

Rhett gazed at her as if seeing her for the first time. Something in his eyes made her flush. Feeling strangely vulnerable, she reached up to touch her hair, which hung loose down her back.

“I apologize for disturbing you,” he said, “but Scooter has something he wants to say.”

“Sorry,” the boy mumbled.

Rhett frowned. “Sorry what?”

Without looking up Scooter said, “Sorry I knocked you down.”

Jenny’s heart went out to him. Looking at him, she saw herself all those years ago. She’d been only a few years older than he was when her father died, leaving her with the care of her two sisters. She would never forget how afraid she was, how alone. How terribly overwhelmed.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” she said. “My name is Jenny Higgins.” She held out her hand and the boy stared at it before raising his own. She shook his hand lightly. “Apology accepted.”

Scooter jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.

Rhett gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Let’s hope Mr. Fairbanks is as forgiving as Miss Higgins.”

Rhett bid her good night. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he turned to leave. Reaching the top of the stairs, he looked back, but the hall was too dim to read his expression. She waited until he had vanished from sight before closing the door.

She pressed her forehead against the wood and willed the pounding of her heart to stop.

Mary Lou was a nervous wreck. She couldn’t take two steps without bumping into that annoying Mr. Trevor. There simply was no getting away from him. No matter how much she protested, he continued his ridiculous charade.

He was not her fiancé! He was nobody. He meant nothing to her.

Still, as outrageous as he was, never did she expect him to bother her in church. Was nothing sacred?

On Sunday he sat directly behind her. She wouldn’t have known he was there had he not
deliberately
kicked the back of her chair during prayer.

Startled, she turned around to find him grinning at her. She glared at him from beneath her best flat bonnet. He winked at her and she quickly turned to face the front of the church. Her cheeks aflame, her mouth rounded into a disbelieving
O
.

The nerve of the man!

For the remainder of the service she refused to acknowledge him, though his heated gaze felt like two hot pokers on her back.

Most shocking of all was the way he leaned forward from time to time to whisper in her ear. He cleverly timed each covert murmur so Jenny wouldn’t notice.

“Don’t forget to tell me your ring size,” he said following Reverend Wells’s sermon.

Later, while the offering plate worked its way from the front of the church to the back, he leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t believe in long betrothals, do you?”

Had Jenny not been so busy glaring at the choir or, rather, at Mr. Barrel, she would surely have noticed and put a stop to Mr. Trevor’s outrageous behavior. As it was, Jenny seemed completely oblivious to what was going on beneath her very nose.

He even changed the words in the closing hymn from
carry me
to
marry me
.

That was the final straw. “Stop it,” she hissed.

“What am I doing?” Brenda asked.

Jenny, sitting on the other side of Brenda, glared at both of them. “
Shh
.”

After church, Mary Lou hastened to their carriage ahead of her sisters, anxious to make her escape. Much to her dismay, Mr. Trevor galloped up on his horse.

“Miss Higgins,” he said, tipping his hat. He dismounted. Instead of his normal work clothes, he wore dark pants, a vest, and a white shirt. His usual red cap had been replaced by a more stylish wide-brimmed straw hat. Not only did he look handsome, he was positively dashing.

“You’re looking especially beautiful today,” he said, his gaze traveling the length of her.

She wore a yellow skirt draped in front and ruffled in back, and a matching formfitting Basque bodice. It had taken three days of begging before Jenny finally broke down and bought it for her. Judging by the look of approval on his face, the outfit had been worth all those extra chores Jenny made her do in return.

Cheeks burning, she glanced over her shoulder, but Jenny was still a distance away, talking to the minister and his wife.

She gritted her teeth. “If you don’t leave me alone, I will report you to the marshal.”

He seemed more amused than concerned. “There’s no law against a man talking to his fiancée,” he drawled.

“I’m not your fiancée.” She gave her head a haughty toss. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Those are mighty hurtful words, ma’am,” he said, though the twinkle in his eyes made him look anything but injured. “I’d sure hate to think you mean them.”

She peered at him from beneath a furrowed brow. “I mean them all right.”

He feigned a wounded look that didn’t fool her in the least. “I would never force you into doing something you didn’t want to do,” he said.

She almost laughed in his face. “That’s exactly what you’ve been trying to do since the first day we met.”

“Let’s just say, I’ve seen the error of my ways.”

She studied him from the corner of her eyes. “Does this mean you will stop harassing me?”

“What it means is that I’m prepared to make a proposition.”

Something in his voice—or maybe it was the glint in his eyes—made her uneasy but no less curious. “What . . . kind of proposition?”

A lazy smile inched across his face. “If after kissing me you still feel the same way, we’ll call off the engagement and I’ll never bother you again.”

She stared at him, not sure she’d heard right. “Did . . . did you say k–kiss?”

He made a slight gesture with his hand. “One kiss is all I ask. If I can’t change your mind with a kiss, then I don’t deserve your hand in marriage.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment she could do nothing but stare. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she managed at last. Though kissing him didn’t seem all that objectionable, it was nonetheless out of the question.

The invitation in his smoldering eyes was rife with challenge. “You aren’t afraid, are you?”

She scoffed at the very idea. “Of course not.”

He shrugged. “Then what have you got to lose? It’s just one kiss.”

Her cheeks burning, she glanced at Jenny, still deep in conversation. She swallowed hard before turning back to meet his gaze. “And . . . and you’ll leave me alone?”

“You have my solemn word.”

She searched his face for signs he was mocking her. Much to her chagrin, he looked dead serious. Still . . . a kiss. What kind of man would make such a proposition? What kind of woman would agree to it?

As if to accept her silence for compliance, he nodded his head and mounted his horse, the saddle creaking beneath his weight. He stared down at her, reins in hands. The expression in his eyes was hidden beneath the brim of his hat, but his confident smile was all too evident.

“Perhaps we can meet tomorrow night? After your sisters retire? Say around eleven? It shouldn’t take but a few minutes for you to make up your mind. I’ll be waiting for you outside the hotel.”

Giving her no time to answer, he pressed his legs against the side of his horse and galloped away.

The full extent of what he proposed hit her. She would never agree to such a thing. She couldn’t. Kissing a man under such circumstances was out of the question. It simply wasn’t done. She didn’t need Miss Abigail Jenkins’s book of proper courtship behavior to know that.

She opened her mouth to call to him, but nothing came out except a strangled sigh. A searing pain filled her chest. Her lungs felt as if they were about to explode. Without realizing it, she had forgotten to breathe. Gasping for air, she leaned against the side of the carriage until she calmed down.

Kiss Mr. Jeff Trevor. Of all the crazy—

She placed a gloved hand to her mouth. Even as she considered the scandalous idea, she giggled then quickly looked around to make sure no one saw her. Kiss Mr. Trevor? A thrill of anticipation raced through her. What could it possibly hurt?

Jenny rushed up to the carriage. “Where is your sister?”

“I don’t know,” Mary Lou said, her voice husky. “I thought she was with you.”

She took a deep breath and willed her heart to stop pounding, but not soon enough to escape Jenny’s scrutiny.

“Are you feeling all right?” Jenny asked. “You look flushed and don’t sound like yourself. I must say you acted rather strange in church. Are you coming down with something?”

“I’m fine,” Mary Lou said, trying to think of an explanation for her behavior. She needn’t have bothered. Already Jenny had turned away to search for Brenda.

BOOK: Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02]
5.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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