Tempting Prudence: The Bride Train (17 page)

Arch directed a frown at the road.

The quivers in her stomach worsened when she looked back at where the wheels had carved deep ruts into the mud. He hadn’t noticed that place where the road had been washed away. She must’ve startled him, or maybe hurt a sore spot, or he hadn’t wanted her to touch him. No, she couldn’t read too much into his dismayed reaction. These past two days had been difficult.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you. What happened?”

His frown deepened. “Got into a disagreement with Obe.”

Obe. That was his eldest brother, the one that reminded her of a dyspeptic grizzly bear. What had the foul-tempered creature done? Broken a chamber pot over Arch’s head? The poor man stunk like an outhouse when they’d hauled him out of that railcar.

“More than a disagreement, I’d say.”

Arch flicked a sharp look that was hard to read. “He disrespected you.”

“You fought over me?” The knots in her stomach tightened.

“As well over you as something else. Obe’s had a chip on his shoulder for years. I didn’t see a need to knock it off—until now.”

The very last thing she wanted was to come between him and his family. He might be angry with them now, but eventually he’d resent her for being the wedge. Despite how his brothers had treated her, despite her aversion to their way of life, she had to build a bridge or ill feelings would swamp her marriage.

“I pleaded with the lieutenant for leniency. He assured me your brothers would be treated fairly. I wish I could’ve done more, but Mr. Hardt is adamant about setting an example, and I think he’s influenced the lieutenant’s decision. We can appeal, I’m sure.”

Prudence clasped her hands together but refrained from wringing them. She refused to second-guess her decision. Even if Arch had changed his mind about wanting her and married her to avoid spending time in jail. After all, someone needed to take care of his brothers’ families and his mother if the other men were detained for any length of time. Arch would see that as his responsibility. She would help him, and time would heal the rift between them. She had to be patient.

The wagon rumbled along the road. To keep her mind off miserable thoughts, Prudence memorized landmarks: an old oak tree at the place where they turned away from the railroad tracks; the bridge across the creek before they reached the path where the grass grew as tall as the wagon bed.

“I should able to find my way to town easy enough.”

Arch looked at her askance. “Do you plan to leave?”

“Leave?” He didn’t mean for good. Or maybe he did. She released a laugh to ease the tension. “I won’t right away, but I expect I’ll need to go to town at some point. If you’d rather I not go alone, I can wait until you’re ready.”

The wind picked up seemingly out of nowhere, bending the grass and setting the few trees into motion. Prudence held onto her hat. Charm had helped her arrange her hair in attractive curls around her face for the wedding. Now all that effort would be ruined. The fancy style wasn’t practical, anyway, and she was nothing, if not practical.

She had set her foot on this path. Whether marriage led to disappointment or happiness depended on her. Somehow, she would find a way to break through the barrier Arch had erected.

As they approached the house, Rebel rushed out to greet them. The dog barked and circled as Arch lifted her from the wagon and set her on the ground. The sadness in his gaze sent her heart reeling.

Her breath snagged on a sob, but she swallowed her tears. This foolish crying had to stop. Until she’d gotten the silly notion into her head about winning his love, she had never expected it. Her goal had been to find a husband who would appreciate her. The man she’d married would appreciate her a great deal more if she wouldn’t burst into tears every time he looked at her.

“Arch! Prudence!” His mother came out of the house and rushed over to embrace them. She took a good look at her son’s face and frowned. “What happened to you?”

“Got into a fight,” he said flatly. “With Obe.”

Mrs. Childers shook her head in reproach. “You know better than to tangle with a bear.”

“The bear got what was coming to him.” Arch showed no sign of regret.

Prudence gnawed her lip, wondering if Arch would admit to
why
he’d fought with his brother.

“Where are they?” Mrs. Childers asked.

“Locked up in a rail car until the army decides what to do with them.”

Her jaw came unhinged. “Because of a fight?”

“No, the fight happened later. They got arrested for stealing Pru. Two weeks ago, they tied her up and brought her out here, said they’d done it so I could have a bride. Then the fools went and bragged about stealing a woman. When I took her into town, the lieutenant locked me up with them. She got me released by marrying me.”

The fragmented explanation served to confuse his poor mother even more. She kept shaking her head with her mouth hanging open. “Well, I never… Why would they…? And you two got…” Her questioning gaze moved to Prudence. “Married?”

Caught in the limelight, Prudence felt her face heat up. Her lips sealed like melted wax.

Arch put his arm around her waist and pulled her against him as if they were already familiar, which made it look worse. “Pru didn’t do anything wrong, Ma. She tried to leave before but I wouldn’t let her.”

His confession jerked her out of her daze. Whether he wanted this marriage or not, he wouldn’t spurn what he viewed as his responsibility. However, she refused to let him make it sound as if he’d forced her to take him. “Arch didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

He glanced at her questioningly, but then turned to unloading the wagon.

His mother recovered from her surprise. “You two must be hungry. I’ll get some dinner on the table.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” Prudence’s worries multiplied as she imagined what might be going through her mother-in-law’s mind. Mrs. Childers couldn’t be happy finding out that she’d been lied to and that Arch’s brothers were imprisoned. The difficult situation would be made worse the longer the men were in jail.

Arch carried the trunks inside, one after the other, and then went back out to unhitch the horse. Rebel trotted after him. Abandoned by both, Prudence felt even more alone. She considered going after him and taking him aside privately. He might respond better to an affectionate touch if he didn’t have to focus on driving a wagon. However, she couldn’t walk off after telling his mother she would help prepare dinner, and she had some explaining to do.

“I’m so sorry about what happened.”

His mother went straight to the fireplace. “Don’t sound to me like you got anything to be sorry about.”

“We should’ve told you the truth sooner.”

Mrs. Childers used a thick cloth to remove a Dutch oven nestled among the smoking coals. She lifted the lid and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. “Bread’s ready. I’ll get the stew.”

Prudence decided to drop the subject of apologies for the time being. The best peace offering would be to provide help with dinner. Plus, it would give her a chance to show Arch she wasn’t worthless in the kitchen. “Why don’t I make a pie or cobbler?”

“No need. I can put something together real quick. You sit down and rest.”

“Thank you, but I can’t sit. I need to keep busy.” Prudence went to the flour bin. She wanted to be of help. She wanted Arch to be glad he married her. How could she earn his appreciation, much less his love, if she loafed around and let his mother do all the work? “All I need is vinegar, butter, sugar and eggs. I can whip up a vinegar pie in no time.”

“That’ll suit Arch. He loves vinegar pie.” His mother set an iron pot over the hot coals and picked up a long wooden spoon.

“What are some of his other favorites?” Prudence would make sure she knew, so she could surprise him and cook them.

“Blackberry cobbler, peach cobbler, raisin pie… Put sugar in anything and he’ll be happy. He has a fearsome sweet tooth.”

“He doesn’t know I can cook,” Prudence admitted. Might as well come clean. “You see, at first, I was frightened…”

“Imagine so. Who wouldn’t be?”

“I thought if I could convince him that I would make a terrible wife, he’d return me. So I scalded the butter, burned the bread and put soap into the beans.”

“Soap?” His mother laughed. “So that’s why he’s so eager for me to cook.”

“I wish I hadn’t deceived him.” Prudence heaved a sigh. “I wish I’d handled things differently.”

“Wishing won’t change anything. Sounds like you two need to have a long talk.”

After preparing the pie, Prudence took a seat at the table to wait for it to bake. His mother had it right. Her mother would’ve advised the same. Hard as it might be to hear Arch tell her he wasn’t sure about his feelings toward her, if he had doubts, she needed to hear them.

Mrs. Childers finished warming the stew. Her mood appeared thoughtful, almost pensive. She had to be worried about her sons being imprisoned and their future uncertain, or she might have questions about the odd circumstances surrounding her youngest son’s marriage. Possibly, she needed something more done. Prudence hoped for the latter, as she found it easier to tend to tasks than to engage in difficult discussions.

“Is there something more I can do?”

“Other than wait on that pie to cook?” Mrs. Childers said, wiping her hands on her apron. Her gaze rested on Prudence, turning speculative. “Honey, I ain’t one to pry, but there is something I’d like to ask.”

Prudence tensed. Some subjects she’d rather not discuss. However, she needed to hear whatever his mother had to say if she hoped to restore and deepen their relationship. “Ask anything.”

“Why did you marry my boy?”

That was the easiest question.

“I love him.”

His mother nodded, as if the answer didn’t surprise her. “You ought to tell him.”

Hadn’t she?

No. Not in so many words.

He hadn’t mentioned love, either. If she declared her love and he didn’t return her deep feelings, his rejection would crush her. Didn’t Arch deserve to know, regardless?

Mrs. Childers retrieved an empty bucket by the sink and held it out. “You want to do something helpful? Go down to the spring and fetch us some water.”

Prudence noticed a second full bucket. That water looked fresh. His mother was giving her an opportunity to talk to Arch, alone. What a dear, wise woman.

“Thank you,” she said, and took the handle.

Chapter 11

Arch released the mare into the pasture. Soon as he’d shut the gate, he headed down the path toward the creek. Before the wedding, he had washed off the worst of the stench and had borrowed a fresh shirt, but he didn’t feel clean. Prudence hadn’t mentioned anything, but her eyes kept watering.

He could get rid of the smell, but he couldn’t wash away all the things about him that offended her. For a brief while after she announced her intention to marry him and the soldiers escorted him away to get cleaned up, he’d been deliriously happy. He’d supposed she had changed her mind because she decided she couldn’t live without him. That delusion ended when the lieutenant told him he owed it to his wife to stay out of trouble, considering her
sacrifice
.

His worst fears were confirmed after he joined her in the land office and she bawled throughout the wedding ceremony. Knowing he was the cause of her misery hurt worse than getting his head bashed. He stopped the ceremony to give her a chance to back out. She didn’t take it and he couldn’t shame her by refusing to marry her. Not after she went to so much trouble to save his sorry hide.

Upon reaching the creek, he stripped off his clothes, tossed them over a bush, and waded into waist-deep water. His skin pebbled from the cold, but the water felt good with the air being so hot and humid. He rubbed a ball of soap over his chest. Felt bad that he’d showed up at his wedding smelling like an outhouse. Prudence deserved better than a hurried ceremony with a stinky groom. He’d find some way to make it up to her.

A squirrel dashed into the bushes. Rebel barked and chased after the critter. The squirrel scrambled up a nearby trunk and then leapt from tree to tree. Rustling sounds and trembling leaves in the bushes gave away the dog’s position. Rebel couldn’t earn his keep as a hunting dog anymore. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. A good lesson, maybe?

Arch scrubbed his hair, ruminating. Pru had a soft spot for a lame dog that wouldn’t give up. Could she love a bootlegger who might not ever amount to much, no matter how hard he worked?

He rinsed his hair and sluiced off the water. Soapy bubbles clung to leaves and swirled downstream. Wasn’t as easy to wash away the guilt. He’d been eaten up with it ever since leaving that office with his new wife on his arm. He’d got what he wanted—and it had cost Pru her principles and the future she might’ve had with a better man.

She thought it was her fault he got locked up, and she wasn’t the type to walk away. Regardless, she must have some feelings for him. She wouldn’t marry a man she didn’t care for. That didn’t mean she loved him, or would ever love him. She might even come to despise him.

After he told her the bad news, what he had to do, she might decide she wanted to go to California after all.