The Anonymous Bride (18 page)

She watched in the moonlight as he strode toward his house, and then she closed the back door. Had he purposely used that endearment, or had it just slipped out? Rachel scraped his plate and set it in the sink along with his cup. She turned down the lantern and ambled toward the downstairs bedroom she shared with her daughter. Her hand caught the doorknob, and she paused, thinking how warm and soft Luke’s lips had felt against her fingertips when she’d covered his mouth. A sudden thought sent warm hope traveling through her being. If Luke had no intention of marrying the brides, maybe there was still hope for her.

***

The next morning, Luke rode Alamo back into Lookout after a brisk ride. With most of his duties in town, he’d neglected to exercise his horse. Both he and his mount had benefited from the long ride. He breathed in a deep breath when he saw his cousins’ wagon parked outside the freight office. He didn’t care for confrontations, and having been a cavalry officer, he’d had his share of them, but this was different. Innocent females had been given false hope—their emotions toyed with, their dreams smashed. “Help me not to lose my temper, Lord.”

Luke tied his horse to the hitching post outside the freight office and stormed inside. He shoved his hands to his hips and eyed both men. Mark and Garrett looked up from their desks where they’d been working and exchanged a glance. “I reckon you heard what happened yesterday.”

Both men had the audacity to grin.

“Good morning to you, too.” Mark chuckled.

“This isn’t a laughing matter.” Luke crossed his arms and glared at the two. “I can’t believe you would do such a low-down thing.”

“What thing is that?” Garrett leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his stomach, obviously trying to look innocent.

“You know good and well what I’m talking about.” He paced the room, casting glares at his cousins. Too bad this wasn’t a legal offense or he’d haul them both of to jail and see who had the last laugh. Then again, maybe he could arrest them for impersonating a lawman.

Mark tapped a finger on his desk, his blue eyes gleaming. “Well, you did say you’d marry if the right woman came along.”

“When did I say that?”

“The evening of your birthday,” Mark said.

“That’s right. We just figured you needed some help finding her.” Garrett nodded as he straightened a stack of papers on his desk. “We wrote to several women who had advertisements in the newspaper but sure didn’t expect more than one would be willing to travel all the way to Lookout.” Garrett leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk, crossing his hands behind his head. “We didn’t know the brides had arrived until we got back in town this morning and stopped at the café for breakfast. Weren’t sure any of them would show up.”

Mark nodded. “Everyone was talking about it.”

“Them? Just how many did you write to?”

“Five.” Garrett stretched, holding up all the fingers on one hand. “But a couple weren’t interested in moving to Texas.” He stroked his chin with his index finger and thumb and waggled his brows. “Two did, huh? Guess you get to pick which one you like best. Are they pretty?”

Luke couldn’t believe his ears. What were they thinking? Mark and Garrett had always been rascals, but they’d never been purposely hurtful. “How could you trifle with those women? Don’t you realize they’ve left their homes and families and traveled hundreds of miles in hope of marrying me?”

“Well, you can make dreams come true for one of them at least.” Mark grinned. “So, are they pretty?”

Grinding his back teeth, Luke spun toward the window and checked to make sure things were still quiet outside. It wouldn’t do to let his cousins know both women were pretty enough to catch any man’s eye. “They’re nice enough, I suppose.”

“What do they look like?” Garrett’s chair squeaked.

Luke shrugged one shoulder. He might as well tell them, or they’d just hurry out the door and go see for themselves. “They’re very different. One’s blond with blue eyes. The other is shorter and has reddish brown hair and green eyes.”

Mark chuckled. “I thought you weren’t interested. Sounds like you looked them over real good. Mmm ... I always imagined falling in love with a redhead. If you don’t want her, maybe I’ll try my hand at wooing her.”

Luke turned back to face the two scoundrels. “These are people we’re talking about, not horses or cattle. You can’t play with a woman’s emotions. They’re not like us. They’re sensitive.”

Mark grinned. “I had no idea you knew that much about females. Is that why you avoid them?”

Luke studied the dirt on his boot tips. Did he avoid women? Maybe one in particular. “I see women all over town every day.”

Garrett dropped his feet to the floor with a loud
thunk.
“Married women don’t count. When was the last time you showed interest in a gal of marrying age?”

Luke glanced at the walls of the freight office as he contemplated Garrett’s question. A large area map hung on one unpainted wall with pins stuck in it indicating the smaller towns that his cousins delivered freight to. Papers littered Garrett’s desk in haphazard piles while Mark’s were neatly stacked. Boxes and crates waiting to be shipped filled one wall.

His cousins didn’t understand the position he was in. “If I show attention to anyone past school age, I’ll have all the mamas in the county wanting me to come for dinner and court their daughters.”

“Oh, to eat good food with a pretty woman. What a cross to bear.” Mark folded his arms over his chest and leaned his hip on his desk. “I might believe that if there were any marriageable women in Lookout.”

“We’ve provided the perfect solution,” Garrett said. “Pick one of the brides, marry up with her, and then all the mamas will turn their eyes on someone else.”

Luke smiled for the first time since entering the freight office. “Yeah, like you two yahoos.”

“Hey, I don’t mind a home-cooked meal and a pretty woman to share it with once in a while. It’s just too bad there aren’t some in this town.” Garrett picked up a pencil and started shaving the end with his pocketknife. Mark scowled at the mess he was making on the floor.

“I think the best thing would be for you two to marry the brides.” Luke held back his grin and tried to appear stern.

Garrett stood and pointed a finger at Luke. “Now hold on a minute. We ordered those brides for you, not us. I’m sorry that two of ’em showed up. I figured when it came right down to it, they’d back out. I never expected to get so many responses to my advertisement.”

Luke stiffened. “You posted a notice about
me?
”

“It sounded like a good idea at the time,” Mark said.

“What did you say? That I’m a desperate marshal who needs a wife? I don’t even own a home, for Pete’s sake.”

Garrett shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, but it wasn’t working. “Just that you were handsome, well established, friendly. Stuff like that.”

“Well established? Did you also tell them that I live in a one-room cabin next to the boardinghouse where I take all my meals? I don’t even own a cookstove. What woman would want to live in a cabin with no stove?”

Mark grabbed a cup off his desk and filled it from the coffeepot he picked up at the café each morning. “Want some?”

Luke scowled at him. “No, I don’t want coffee. This is serious business. We need to decide what to do with those women.” He fingered his pistol handle. “I’m still of a mind to march you down to the boardinghouse and make you two marry those gals.”

Mark sat and took a sip from his cup. “Have you spent any time getting to know them?”

Luke stared at the ceiling. This conversation wasn’t going as planned. Perhaps he should have let Rachel join him as he confronted his cousins, but he’d told her he could handle them. Could be he’d overestimated his abilities. “No, I haven’t. They just arrived yesterday while you two were conveniently out delivering freight. I got them situated at the boardinghouse while I tried to figure out what in the world was going on.” He picked a paper off of Garrett’s desk and examined the script, receiving a scowl from his cousin. “Once I recognized the handwriting in the letters those gals showed me, I knew pretty much what had happened.”

Garrett squirmed and looked at Mark. “We were just trying to help you. Like get you a bride for your birthday.”

“My birthday was weeks ago.”

“Yeah, well, it takes time to communicate with a woman. You can’t hurry them, and you have to answer all their nitpicky questions ’cause they’re suspicious,” said Mark.

“I wonder why.” Luke shoved his hands to his hips and glowered at them.

“What you need to do is get to know the women. You can’t be certain one of them isn’t the gal for you unless you spend time with them. Why not take each one to the café for dinner or supper?” Garrett’s gaze lit up as if he’d just solved the dilemma.

“And have the whole town talkin’?” Luke rolled his eyes. The town was already talking. All yesterday afternoon and evening people had stared at him and whispered as he walked along the street.

“Look, you two are the reason those women came to town. I’m going to talk to Rachel and see when’s a good time, and you two are coming to the boardinghouse to apologize and make amends. Is that clear?”

His cousins shared a glance, but both men nodded. Luke stared each one in the eye, making sure they understood he was serious. “I’ll let you know what time the meeting is.”

He shoved open the door, and several people on the boardwalk gawked at him with curious expressions. He liked small-town life except when he was the main attraction, and he didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed the time he’d spent chatting with Rachel last night. It was almost as if they were friends again, without their troubled past. He wouldn’t likely get to do that again if he was with another woman. In spite of all that had happened between him and Rachel, she was the only woman he’d ever known as a close friend. A part of him longed to rekindle that relationship, but could they do that? Just remain friends?

They’d have to, because that was all he was willing to be.

CHAPTER 16

Rachel, Jacqueline, and the brides sat at one end of the dining table while Mr. Sampson ate at the other end. Rachel sighed inwardly. You’d think the middle-aged salesman wouldn’t mind eating with a couple of pretty women, but he almost seemed afraid of them. Maybe he feared one of them would set her sights on him. She smiled and ducked her head.

He wolfed down the last of his eggs and stood. “Thank you for another fine breakfast, Mrs. Hamilton. See you at supper tonight.” His gaze danced toward the two brides, and he nodded. “Ladies. Miss Jacqueline.”

Rachel shook her head and buttered her biscuit. She hoped he did better talking to women as he hawked his wares than he’d done with the two brides.

Miss O’Neil cleared her throat and laid down her fork. “Will we be able to talk to Marshal Davis this morning? I ... uh”—she glanced at Miss Bennett—“need to make some decisions as to what to do very soon.”

“I, for one, plan to marry the marshal, so I suppose you do need to make alternative plans.” Miss Bennett dabbed her lips with her napkin and eyed Miss O’Neil with disdain.

Rachel swirled more sugar into her coffee then took a sip of the hot liquid, hating that the women were fighting over Luke. How had things gotten to this point?

Jacqueline shoved another slice of bacon in her mouth. “Luke’s gonna marry my ma.”

Rachel choked as she swallowed. She coughed as she tried to clear her clogged throat. Tears blurred her vision. Both brides stared wide-eyed at her. Rachel turned her attention to her daughter. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

Jacqueline plowed rows with her fork lightly across the lukewarm gravy covering half of a biscuit. “It just makes sense. He nearly lives here. You feed him and do his laundry already. You need someone to take care of you. But I don’t hav’ta mind him.” She dabbed some peach jam onto her biscuit and took a bite.

“Saints preserve us.” Miss O’Neil held her napkin to her chest and squeezed it fiercely.

“Luke does not live here. He lives next door.” Rachel tried to apply salve to the wound her daughter had just inflicted.

“Same thing.” Jacqueline shrugged.

Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not marrying Luke.”

Especially now.

Desperate to change the subject, Rachel turned to Miss Bennett. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

The young woman took a sip of her coffee then touched her napkin to her mouth. “I have lived just outside of Carthage, Missouri, for the past twelve years, but I was born in Boston. My father got it in his system to travel west when I was a child, but Carthage was as far as Mother would go. She simply wouldn’t tolerate moving to the frontier. Father owns a farm, and I’m the oldest of eleven children.” Miss Bennett stared at Miss O’Neil as if saying it was her turn to share.

Eleven children!
Was that why she decided to become a mail-order bride? To get away from such a large household? Rachel couldn’t imagine the responsibility that must have fallen on Miss Bennett’s young shoulders. Why, she doubted either woman had reached her twentieth birthday yet.