Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (14 page)

“I’ll have to take my chances. Our train leaves at five-ten this afternoon. What about yours?”

“A couple of hours later. I thought I’d take Miss Hamilton out to dinner before we head back to Richmond. It’s the least I can do after forcing her to witness this morning’s battle.” David dreaded the long trip to Richmond and back, but he was committed to escorting Temperance Hamilton home.

Reese stood up in the tub. He wrapped a towel around his hips. “Wake me up in a couple of hours. Oh, and David…”

“Yeah?”

“I left a name on my desk.”

“So?”

“See what you can dig up on him while you’re in Richmond.”

“Do you want me to ask the aunts?”

“No. Keep it quiet. Be discreet.”

David smiled. He was an expert at nosing around. He’d learned the ropes from Pinkerton himself. They both had.

He walked into the next room and retrieved the slip of paper from Reese’s desk. He smiled when he read the name. Reese might pretend a casual curiosity, but David wasn’t fooled. He glanced at the paper a second time, then flipped it into the fireplace.

Champ Collins.

Reese Jordan sneaked a glance at the woman sharing the carriage seat with him. She sat still, her back impossibly straight, her shoulders held back, her head tilted at a haughty, regal angle.

Her nap hadn’t seemed to improve her disposition. She was still angry. Her face was chalk white. Her beautiful, wide mouth had flattened into a thin, disapproving line. She hadn’t said a word since leaving the hotel and her hands were clenched into fists in her lap.

It was not a promising beginning.

Faith gritted her teeth in an effort to keep them from chattering. Her emotions were in turmoil, her nerves stretched to the breaking point. She hadn’t the faintest idea how she would get through the next twenty-four hours.

And she couldn’t begin to think about the coming days, weeks, and months in the company of Reese Jordan. But she would have to manage―somehow. She had signed her name to that contract. It lingered in her mind, in bold black ink, mocking her each time she thought about it.

She glanced at the man sitting beside her. She shivered each time she thought about the intimate nature of their agreement. She wondered if he expected her to sleep with him tonight on the train? She shivered again, but whether from apprehension, or anticipation, she couldn’t tell. She swallowed hard to keep the churning of her stomach at bay. She hoped she would make it to the station before she disgraced herself in the carriage.

It was not a promising beginning.

The carriage rolled to a stop at the station. David leaped down from his seat and assisted Temperance. Reese lifted Joy into his arms and held out a hand for Faith.

Reese took one look at her face and handed Joy to David. Swinging Faith into his arms, he sprinted for the platform and the private railroad car he’d had brought from Chicago for the journey.

David set Joy on the ground, then took her hand and followed behind, but at a much slower pace. Temperance kept step by his side.

“Welcome aboard, sir.” A porter tipped his hat and stepped forward to open the door for Reese.

Reese hurried to the water closet. He lowered Faith to her feet. She wavered like a colt on wobbly legs, clutched her stomach, and vomited into the basin. Reese dipped a washcloth into the pitcher. He untied the bonnet ribbons under her chin, pulled the hat off, and tossed it aside. He smoothed the cool cloth over her hot face.

“Better?” he asked, handing her the cloth.

Feeling horribly embarrassed, Faith nodded.

He tilted her face up to look at him. Some of the chalky whiteness had left her features. The healthy color was beginning to return. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, Faith. All of us get sick once in a while.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

He smiled. “Even me.” He moved away from her. “Stay here for a moment. I’ll get you something to drink.”

She shot him another questioning look.

“No champagne.” He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I promise.” He backed out of the washroom and closed the door.

“Where is she?” someone said.

He turned around to find Temperance. “In there.” He pointed to the door. “I was about to get her something to drink.” Reese moved toward the bar in the far corner of the room. He poured a glass of water and gave it to Temperance.

Tempy knocked on the door. “Faith? It’s me, Tempy. May I come in?” She didn’t wait for Faith’s muffled reply. She opened the door and walked in.

Faith threw her arms around her aunt, seeking comfort. “Oh, Aunt Tempy, I feel like a fool!”

“Nonsense.” Tempy’s voice was brisk and firm. “You’re entitled to a fit of nerves.”

“Is that what it was?”

“Of course, and the effects of a little too much champagne last night. It happens to everyone.” Tempy brushed the damp hair away from her niece’s face.

“That’s what
he
said.”

“Really?” Tempy’s opinion of Reese Jordan rose a few notches. She handed Faith the glass of water. “Here take a sip. Rinse your mouth out. You’ll feel better.”

Faith did as she was told, then turned back to Tempy. “I’ve never…”

Tempy wanted to remind her niece that she was about to do many things she’d never done before, but thought better of it. She didn’t want Faith to be ill again. “It will be all right, my dear.” She patted Faith’s cheek with her gloved hand. “Everything will turn out fine.” Tempy gave Faith a reassuring smile.

The train whistled sounded. Tempy pulled away from Faith. “I wish I could stay,” she admitted, “I wish I were going with you.” Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes.

Reese tapped at the washroom door. “The train will be pulling out in a few minutes.”

Tempy opened the door. Faith looked past Reese and suddenly recalled where she was. Her gaze darted around the interior of the railroad car, without focusing on the furnishings. “Where’s Joy?” She stepped into the room, and headed for the outer door, intent on finding her sister.

Reese blocked her path. “Easy now.” His voice was gentle. “She’s outside with David. She wanted to watch them loading the horses. They’ll be here in a minute.”

Seconds later, the door of the car opened and Joy rushed in, full of exciting news. She ran toward Faith, but Reese intercepted her.

“Easy, Joy, your mother isn’t feeling well. She’s still a little shaky on her feet.” He took Joy’s hand and led her to the sofa. “Why don’t we sit here where you can keep an eye on her while you tell me all your news? Say goodbye to your aunt Temperance.” He gave the instruction to Joy, but meant it for Faith as well.

Joy ran to Tempy and hugged her around the waist. Tempy leaned down and Joy planted a sloppy kiss on her aunt’s cheek before turning back to Reese. “Where is Aunt Tempy goin’, Weese?”

“She’s going home to Richmond. But we’re going on a long train ride,” Reese explained.

“You and me?” Joy was torn between excitement and hesitation.

Reese nodded.

“Is Faith goin’, too?”

“Yes, sprite, your mother is going with us.” The pet name rolled off his tongue.

He had awarded the tag to Joy the instant he heard her call Faith by her given name. He knew it was an unusual form of address for a child, especially in the South. Reese had never heard southern mothers called anything except Mother or Mama, and to his way of thinking, Joy was unique. A child with an independent spirit like an elf or a fairy. A sprite.

Joy looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face. She opened her mouth to say something.

Faith drew in her breath and held it.

“Well, goodbye, Faith,” Tempy said, a little too loudly. She hugged Faith quickly, then hurried over to Reese and Joy, determined to save the day. “Joy, be a good girl for Faith and Mr. Jordan, and remember what we talked about.” She waited for Joy to blurt out the truth, but Joy surprised her.

“Yes, ma’am, Aunt Tempy, I won’t forget.” She smiled at Tempy, proud of herself.

The careful coaching of the night before had paid off. Joy would keep their secret a little while longer.

Faith let out a sigh of relief.

The train whistle blasted a second time and David came to the doorway. “We have to go, Miss Hamilton. They won’t hold the train any longer.”

“Yes, I understand.” Tempy inclined her head in David’s direction, before turning back to Reese. “Take care of my girls,” she ordered.

“I will.”

Temperance was taken back by his quick promise. “If Faith gets ill again…”

“I’ll take care of her,” Reese said firmly.

“But―”

“I’ll wire you from the next stop and let you know how she’s feeling.” The telegram would probably arrive in Richmond before Temperance did, but it was the least he could do to allay the woman’s fears.

Temperance looked up at Reese, her gray eyes locked with his brown ones. “I expect to be kept informed of…things.”

“Fine.” Reese didn’t flinch from the look in her eyes, but he didn’t commit himself further.

“Very well.” Temperance knew he had promised all he intended to promise. “Goodbye.” She blew kisses to Faith and to Joy, then preceded David out the door and down the steps to the platform, where she stood waving, tears rolling down her cheeks as the train chugged away.

Moments later, Faith pulled away from the window. Temperance was a tiny speck in the distance, almost completely obscured by the thick black smoke billowing from the stack on the engine. She turned back to the room.

She was alone with her new husband.

She panicked. “What did you do with Joy?”

“I murdered her and threw her tiny body off the train while you were waving goodbye to your aunt.” He shrugged tiredly. “What do you think I did with her? She wanted to see her bedroom.” He opened the door.

Faith inched closer to him and peeked inside. Joy sat in the middle of the child-sized bed. She had shed her traveling coat, gloves, and bonnet. They were scattered across a pink rug in a path from the door to the bed. Joy looked up from her doll and waved to Faith. “Look, Faith! Weese said it was my very own room on the train and he brought all my dolls and my table and chairs and everything. See?”

Joy’s enthusiastic grin was infectious. Faith smiled in spite of herself. She had forgotten the pleasure of having her own room. Before the war, she had taken it for granted. After the war, necessity had demanded she forget it.

She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Joy. Faith took one small foot in her hand and began to untie Joy’s shoelaces. When she finished, she untied Joy’s other shoe and removed them both, leaving Joy in thick wool stockings. “We don’t want to ruin the pretty pink bedspread with dirty, old shoes, do we, sweetie?”

Joy shook her head. “My room is pretty, isn’t it Faith?”

Faith glanced around the room, noting the paneling stenciled with pink dolls, the miniature chest, the table and chairs, toys and books. She looked toward the doorway. Her eyes met Reese’s. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever seen.”

His shoulders seemed to widen before Faith’s eyes.

“Honest?” Joy’s gray eyes were huge. “Prettier than yours before the war?”

“Cross my heart.” Faith did just that.

Joy scooted closer and hugged Faith tightly. “Oh, thank you, Faith.” She bounded off the bed, ran to Reese, and clasped him around the knees. “Oh, thank you, Weese!”

Reese gently ruffled her hair with his hand, but his eyes were focused on Faith. “You’re welcome, sprite.”

Joy returned to her bed, her attention on her dolls.

Faith stood up and walked toward the man in the doorway. “Yes, thank you, Reese.”

“She had to have a room.” He shrugged off her thanks. He didn’t want her gratitude.

“What was it before you had it turned into a little girl’s dream?”

“My office.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. “I can work just as easily out here.” He closed the door to Joy’s room and motioned toward the living area.

Faith looked at the sitting room, studying the details for the first time.

It was a large room, wood paneled in a light oak. Woven carpets covered the floors, but instead of the usual patterns found in Turkey rugs, these rugs were a bright orange color, decorated with stylized designs. A large Duncan Phyfe desk and matching chair occupied one corner of the room. A leather sofa and two leather wing chairs were grouped around a big cast-iron stove. Several low tables of oak and pine were scattered about holding books, lamps, and carved figures of animals. The walls were hung with paintings, mostly landscapes, and a grouping of pastel sketches and pen-and-ink drawings. A large, detailed map of the Western territories hung behind his desk. Faith moved closer to get a better look at one of the pen-and-ink drawings.

It was an ink drawing of what appeared to be a huge, flat, rock rising out of the ground. It towered over the line of trees at its base. But the most amazing feature of the drawing was the attention to detail. Faith could see that the sides of the rock were grooved, fluted, like Doric columns. Faith had never seen anything like it.

“The white men call it Devil’s Tower.” Reese had moved to stand beside her. “The Sioux call it Grizzly Bear’s Lodge because the grooves look like the marks made by giant bears attempting to climb to the top.”

Faith laughed softly. “I think I prefer the Sioux name. Have you ever seen it?”

Reese nodded. “It’s in the northeastern part of the territory.”

“Wyoming?”

“Yes.”

“How fascinating! Will we live close enough to see it?” She traced the ridges with the tip of her fingernail.

“No,” he told her, watching as her face crumpled in disappointment. “We live about five miles outside of Cheyenne. in the southeastern part of the territory.” Reese touched her shoulder. “Why don’t you take off your coat and gloves? We’ll be traveling for four or five days. You might as well make yourself at home.” He strolled over to the bar and produced a kettle from beneath it. He filled the kettle with water, then walked over and set it on the stove. “I’ll show you the rest of my home on wheels while the water is heating.”