Tempting Prudence: The Bride Train (15 page)

“What’s wrong Pru? I’ve never seen you look so…forlorn.”

What could she say? She had condemned Arch for deceiving her. In hindsight, she could see that he’d avoided the truth because he knew it would hurt her and drive a wedge between them. She’d judged him too harshly, and now, it might be too late to make amends.

“Lieutenant Goldman will be looking for me…” Prudence prayed the officer possessed a heart. The railroad agent certainly didn’t. “I must give a statement about what happened before I leave town—”

“Leave town?” Her friend’s voice rose in an alarmed cry. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out right.” Prudence pressed her hand to her forehead. “It’s all jumbled up in my head…” The more she thought about leaving, the less she wanted to go. She’d miss Charm terribly, and Arch…she dared not think about how much she would miss him, If she stayed, however, she would face ruin. Worse, she would see Arch around town, and eventually, with a wife. She couldn’t bear it. But before she went anywhere, she had to make certain he would be released.

Feeling too warm, Prudence removed the shawl that Mrs. Childers had so graciously loaned her. The poor woman would be distraught to learn her sons had been arrested. In the short time they’d spent together, Prudence had become fond of her. Another person she’d miss. Although Arch’s mother might be glad to see her gone. She folded the shawl in her lap, heartsick. “Will you do me a favor and see to it that this shawl gets back to Arch’s mother? She’s staying at his place.”

Charm scrunched her forehead, looking confused. “Why do you have her shawl?” She shook her head. “No, wait. Why were you with Mr. Childers?”

With a deep breath, Prudence launched into the story. She kept the details sparse and didn’t mention the kissing parts.

“Oh, my, Pru, what a
dreadful
tale. I’m sure you were horrified. I would’ve been.” Charm leaned forward in her chair, her expression rapt, appearing more intrigued than horrified. “But why did Mr. Childers prevent you from leaving? Is he as corrupt and immoral as everyone says? I must say, when I met him, he didn’t act despicable.”

Prudence leapt to his defense. “He isn’t despicable. Actually, he’s very kind. Although he admits he hides his soft heart. After meeting his brothers, I’m sure he does so out of self-preservation. As for why he insisted that I stay, he needs a wife like every other man around here who is trying to secure his land. As well, Arch thought by marrying me he would keep his brothers out of trouble.” Her heart nudged, that wasn’t the whole story. “I also believe he feared for my reputation. Had I agreed, he would’ve married me to protect me.”

Charm looked doubtful. “Why would a man marry a woman who was foisted off on him if he didn’t have some degree of interest?”

“He did express…interest.” Prudence averted her eyes from her friend’s inquisitive gaze. She couldn’t explain why Arch found her attractive, which made her doubt whether what inspired him was real. The illusion might fall away like scales from his eyes. Or he would discover she wasn’t the passionate temptress he believed her to be—even if being with him made her feel like one. She had blamed him for corrupting her, when in fact, she hadn’t felt corrupt or dirty or any of the things she’d been told she ought to feel. She’d been happier and more content than any time in her whole life.

Her friend regarded her thoughtfully. “You have feelings for him. I can tell. Why aren’t you willing to marry Mr. Childers?”

An honest question, and one for which she had an answer, even if it sounded less convincing the more she voiced it. “Because he’s a bootlegger. You know how I feel about whiskey.”

Charm nodded. “Are you saying he overindulges?”

Prudence gave the question some thought. “No, I don’t recall seeing him drink. I presume he does, though.”

“If he drank too much whiskey, you’d know, believe me.” Charm’s tone implied she spoke from personal knowledge.

“Then you understand.”

“I understand how hard it is to see someone you love destroy their life. But it doesn’t sound like your Mr. Childers drinks too much. What’s he like otherwise?”

How did she explain Arch? He wasn’t a complicated man. Yet, he had many facets. “He can be very sweet. He can also be a scamp. He makes me laugh one minute, and the next minute I’m ready to brain him with a frying pan.”

“Oh my, yes, I understand exactly what you mean,” Charm replied with a laugh. “Sometimes you don’t know whether to hug them or strangle them.”

“Or kiss them.” The remark popped out before Prudence realized what she’d said. She clapped her hand over her mouth—too late.

“Ah, so you kissed Mr. Childers.” Charm’s amusement turned to speculation.

Prudence straightened her spine. She wouldn’t have her friend believe she’d thrown herself at Arch. “Actually, he kissed me.”

Charm clapped her hands together, her eyes dancing with glee. “Did he, now? And did you like it?”

Like it?
Her lips tingled and her heart raced at the mere memory.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Oh don’t look so horrified. You must’ve liked it a little bit, or you wouldn’t be thinking about doing it again.”

Prudence huffed to hide her embarrassment. “I wasn’t thinking about kissing him.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“You suggested it.”

“No
,
I didn’t mention kissing first. You did.”

“Well I…” Prudence stammered, flustered and blushing hotter. “Even if I did, we’re not here to talk about…
that
.”

Charm’s smile grew broad. “Oh, I think
that
is exactly what we need to discuss. If Mr. Childers kissed you it doesn’t sound like he’s offering marriage purely out of obligation.”

Prudence heaved a sigh. Charm wouldn’t be dissuaded from this discussion. She might as well have it out, but she couldn’t look her friend in the eye while she confessed. “Yes, he kissed me, more than once. He seems to think we’re right for each other, though I can’t imagine why. We’re very different.”

“Are you? Based on the way you described him, I think the two of you are more alike than you want to admit. You’re letting your strict upbringing hold you back.”

The blunt remark came as a shock. Prudence leapt to her own defense. “I won’t apologize for having strong beliefs.”

“No one is asking you to. But there must be some things that are more important than others. Why do you remain my friend? You denounce whiskey. I think I’ve even heard you say that acting is the devil’s trap.”

“I did not!” Prudence drew back, surprised, and then embarrassed, recalling she had voiced something stupid at one point. “All I said was that being an actress could
lead
into the devil’s trap. There’s a difference.”

Her friend’s sardonic smile softened. “Oh, Pru, I’m teasing you because you aren’t mean-spirited. If you were, I wouldn’t like you so much. You care about people. As much as you dislike the liquor we serve, you come here to see me. You remain my friend because you love me.”

“What are you saying? That I love Arch?”

“Of course do you. You wouldn’t be sitting here, twisting your hands off and talking about kissing him if you didn’t.”

The truth wrenched Prudence’s heart. If she’d dared to acknowledge her feelings earlier, she would’ve made a different choice. “Even if I do…love him…how does that help get him out of jail?”

Charm tapped her fingers on the bolstered arm of the chair. “If you’re his wife, they can’t force you to testify against him.”

“Truly?” Prudence found it difficult to breath, her heart pounded so hard. Without her testimony against him, the authorities wouldn’t have a case. No one could prove she’d been held captive, and if she married Arch, who would care? She couldn’t deny being tempted, despite her fears. Arch was good and kind, respectful and caring, protective to the point of sacrifice, and he desired her as much as she desired him. Her face grew warm as she recalled the heat that sparked between them.

He also peddled homebrewed whiskey. His involvement in an illegal trade could prove disastrous for their family, should they be fortunate enough to have children. She would nag because she feared for him. Then, there were his brothers. He would continue to feel responsible, and they would get him into trouble, and she would resent them.

She dropped her face in her hands and shook her head. “Oh, Charm, what do I do? So many things stand between us.”

“Do you remember me telling you about Simon, how he tried to ruin Patrick to compel me to go with him?”

Prudence shuddered. “I’ll never forget what you told me. That awful man.”

“What I didn’t tell you was why I went with him in the first place. I didn’t want Patrick to pay for my mistakes. I wanted what I sincerely believed was best for him.”

Charm’s eyes grew bright as she related the story. “Patrick risked everything to come after me. He said there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for me, even if it meant giving up everything he’d worked for. I thought Simon could come between us. Patrick showed me that nothing could stand in our way if we stayed together and loved each other.”

Hadn’t Arch said something very similar?

“If we face the world together, nothing can stop us.”

Inexplicably, Arch desired her. More than that, he saw something in her that he needed—her strength, and of all things, her stubbornness. Together, they could defy impossible obstacles and build the kind of life that would remain a dream otherwise. He knew how much courage it would take for her to remain with him, and how much easier it would be to run away. Yet, he believed in them and in what they could create, together. He’d brought her back to town, not because he didn’t need her anymore, but because she hadn’t believed.

Chapter 9

Centralia had an abundance of saloons, a handful of stores, two lawyers and an undertaker. The townsfolk hadn’t gotten around to building a jail. Offenders were held in an empty railcar used to transport cattle. Through narrow openings between wooden slats, Arch could see two soldiers assigned to guard the prisoners.

The bluecoats sat on a bench set up beneath a canvas lean-to, which hadn’t protected them, or the occupants of the railcar, from sheeting rain blown sideways by the wind. The two soldiers looked as miserable as Arch felt.

He wondered if the storm had delayed Prudence from catching her train yesterday afternoon. He hoped not, despite the fact that his heart ached every time he thought about not seeing her again. Dwelling on his loss made the ache worse, but grief was better than rage. If he let his mind wander to other things, he might start thinking about murdering the men in the railcar with him. Calling them
brothers
was too charitable.

“This place stinks worse’n a pig pen,” T.J. complained. “There’s fleas in the straw, and they need to dump that bucket. It’s full of shit.”

“They cain’t hold us here forever,” Obe grumbled. “We got rights.”

“Rights?” Vern huffed. “What rights, you fool? Cherokee County is under martial law. That means them Yankees can do anything they damn well please. If they want to line us up and shoot us, nobody’ll stop ’em.”

“Shut yer hole, Vern. We’ll get a trial.”

“A military trial. Fat lot of good that’ll do us.”

“They won’t shoot us if they want to keep drinkin’ our liquor.”

Arch clenched his teeth as Obe and Vern went at each other. Again. He put his hands on the rough walls, digging into the narrow openings with dirty fingers, fighting the urge to tear at the boards. The stench and heat were bad enough without having to listen to two braying jackasses.

“Shut up!” He whirled around, glaring at his brothers, who sat together, leaning against the opposite wall.

They stopped bickering long enough to turn baleful looks in his direction.

“Whatever they decide to do to us, we deserve it for what we did to Miss Walker. Her reputation’s ruined. She can’t hold her head up in town. She’s so ashamed she’s goin’ all the way to California.”

Obe unfolded and stood, knitting his heavy brows into a mean scowl, something he did when he wanted to remind his brothers who was in charge. By virtue of his physical strength—his brainpower sure enough wasn’t the reason. “All we did was bring her to you. If you didn’t want her, you didn’t have to keep her.”

T.J. nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Yeah, you should’ve married the gal. Weren’t right what you did, bedding her without wedding her. Ain’t proper.”

Heat inched up Arch’s neck into his face. Even his brothers assumed the worst. Everyone else would, too. Looking back, he could see his foolish plan for fixing things by keeping Pru with him had been out of pure selfishness. He’d wanted her, and so he let himself be blinded to how his actions would bring her harm. He wouldn’t disown his responsibility, but he also wouldn’t let his brothers squirm out of
their
responsibility for this mess.

“Damn right. I should’ve brought her back, and let her tell everybody what you did. Let the three of you rot in jail. Then I wouldn’t be here, forced to listen to you whine.”

“Is that what happened? She blowed on you?” Obe huffed, an arrogant sound of disbelief. “I reckoned that plain old maid would jump at the chance to get hitched. You messed up, not marrying her. Or maybe you don’t know how to keep a woman happy.”