by Leah Atwood
Sam, sitting atop Bolt, came to a halt twenty feet in front of the house. On a mount Maeve didn’t recognize, Patrick remained several yards behind. Ma Holden stepped off the porch and approached Sam.
“Did you pay off the note?” Her no-nonsense demeanor had returned.
“It’s all taken care of, Ma. I have a signed form right here.” Reaching into his pocket, Sam hesitated just a minute before pulling out a paper and handing it to his mother.
After the paper had exchanged hands, Ma pivoted her attention to Patrick. “Good to see you alive, Son. We were getting worried.” Only a mother could speak the words with equal amounts of love, relief, and vexation.
“I was delayed in Pine Prairie.” Patrick dismounted, then lifted down his female rider. Even from her vantage point on the porch, Maeve could tell his features were pulled tight.
Shifting her gaze from son to the stranger, Ma Holden didn’t say a word for what seemed like minutes, but likely was only seconds. “Are you going to introduce us to your visitor?”
Maeve felt sorry for the woman. She appeared slightly younger than her own twenty years. The girl’s golden blonde hair was fashioned into a single braid. The young woman was undeniably beautiful, but what struck Maeve the most was how scared she looked. Whatever was going on?
Patrick cleared his throat before answering. “Ma, this is my new wife, Candace.”
A collective gasp circled the family. Maeve flinched and clenched her fists. A warm flush covered her skin. Dizzying sensations filled her head. She’d already come to the conclusion she wouldn’t be able to marry Patrick, but to have him finally come to meet her with another woman holding onto him was embarrassing. Discovering that woman was his wife was the utmost in humiliation. How dare he take that decision from her when she was the one who’d been wronged! Standing up, her legs wobbled, unsteady as the emotions flowing through her. Liza came to her side and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Liza mouthed.
Ma Holden had Patrick pinned down with a hard stare that demanded an explanation. Patrick shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.
And well he should be, Maeve wanted to huff.
No one spoke. Mother and son were locked in an epic confrontation, with Ma Holden now in a rigid stance with her arms crossed. Poor Candace cowered behind Patrick and looked as mortified as Maeve felt. Odd that even after knowing this woman was the wife of the man she’d come to Wyoming to marry, she still felt immeasurable pity toward her
A movement to the side caused Maeve to glance away from the unfolding scene. Sam had slid off Bolt and was making his way to his mother and brother.
“Ma, why don’t we go inside and sort this out over some coffee. I’m sure Candace must be exhausted.”
Leave it to Sam to be so thoughtful, Maeve thought. Always the peacemaker.
Ma Holden turned in surprise as though she hadn’t heard Sam approach. “Of course.” Her voice softened, and she gave her attention to her new daughter-in-law. “Come with me, Candace. Patrick and Sam—take care of the horses then come inside immediately. No dallying.”
Following Liza’s lead, Maeve scurried off the porch and into the yard, grabbing Jeannette’s hand and bringing her with them. “You don’t think we should go help?”
“No,” Liza answered. “Best to give them a few minutes alone. We’ll go in once Patrick and Sam do.”
Benjamin walked over. “Think it’s true?”
“I hope not,” Lucas said.
“How come?” Liza prodded her brother.
“Because then Miss Maeve will leave us and I want her to stay.” His cheeks reddened at his admission.
However, Lucas’ sweet words were a balm to Maeve’s emotional wounds, until reality set in. She would soon have to make other arrangements. There was no way she could remain at the Holden ranch now that Patrick had returned, let alone that he’d brought a wife with him.
Speaking of, Patrick and Sam exited the barn. Both their mouths were drawn taut, and neither said a word as they walked to the house.
Liza addressed Benjamin and Lucas. “You two stay out here and keep an eye on Jeanette.”
The youngest Holden boys cooperated without any argument. Benjamin took his baby sister’s hand and led her to the barn. Maeve overheard something about giving the horses a treat.
“Are you ready?”
Sucking in a deep breath, Maeve shook her head. “No, but I don’t suppose I have a choice. It’s so hard to believe how wrong everything has gone.”
Liza patted her shoulder. “Maybe they’re going right. Maybe this is just a stop you were meant to take to prepare you for something else.”
“Such as what?”
“I’m not sure.” Liza shrugged. “What I do know is that I’m glad you came into my life. Even if it turns out to only be for a brief time, I’ve loved having a friend.”
“Me too.” Maeve realized her time in Weatherton hadn’t been nearly as bad she’d let herself believe the last few minutes. She’d let all the positive memories she’d made with the Holdens be overshadowed by Patrick’s surprise.
“Let’s go.” In a show of moral support, Liza slipped her arm through Maeve’s and they went to the house together.
The four other adults were gathered in the kitchen, sitting at a long table with a bench on each side for seats. Sam sat next to his mother on one side, on the other, Candace sat next to Patrick. When the men saw Liza and Maeve enter, they stood.
Maeve looked at Patrick, taking in his appearance. His head was hat-free and his hair mussed as were his clothes. Even so, he would be considered handsome by most. She watched him give Candace a gentle nudge, helping her to her feet with a hand on her elbow.
“You’ve already met my mother and brother, Sam. The two boys who were outside earlier, along with Jeanette, you’ll meet later.” He motioned to Liza. “This is my sister, Liza. She’s only a year younger than you. Liza, this is my wife, Candace.”
With a quick mental calculation, Maeve figured Candace to be nineteen. She still thought the woman appeared younger, but that could be due to the frightened expression on her face.
Liza stepped forward, extending a hand to Candace. “Nice to meet you. Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you.” Candace took Liza’s proffered hand, and Maeve noticed her trembling fingers.
Again, her heart went out to the poor girl. She had a feeling there was a story behind this marriage because neither Patrick nor Candace acted like newlyweds in love. Whatever the story was, she didn’t fault Candace, when in all probability, she had no idea that Patrick had a fiancée waiting for him.
Patrick on the other hand—suffice it to say she was trying hard not to glare at him. As yet, he’d not even acknowledged her. Any feelings she’d had for him while still in Chicago were completely dissipated. The last lingering hope that there was a perfectly legitimate explanation for Patrick’s lies and absence faded away like the remnants of sunshine at night.
She expelled a loud sigh, unaware she had until everyone turned to look at her.
Candace, especially, looked at her, her head tilted as though trying to recollect her status in the family. “I’m sorry, I must have missed the introduction to you.”
Everyone in the room became deadly silent. In her innocent apology, Candace had informed everyone she’d not been told of Patrick’s fiancée. Ma Holden glowered at her son. With a silent plea on his face, Patrick stared at Sam for help. In return, Sam scowled at his brother. Liza gulped, then held her breath.
All Maeve wanted to do was sink into the ground. She hadn’t thought the humiliation could be worse.
She was wrong.
Then Sam slid his legs out from under the table and stood. Boldly, determinedly, he came to her side in three long strides. One arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to him.
“Forgive my rudeness for neglecting a proper introduction. Candace, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Maeve Benetton.” He ang
led his head downward and kissed her cheek.
Palpitations in her heart made her body unsteady. What just happened? If Sam’s arm wasn’t around her, she’d certainly fall to the floor in a confused heap. Was he serious? Why, the nerve of the Holden men! As though she’d be a replacement bride. Then again, he probably meant nothing by it, other than a feeble attempt to end an uncomfortable moment.
A miniscule smile formed on Candace’s lips. “I hope we’ll be friends. You too, Liza. I never imagined when I married, that I’d be gaining two sisters so close to me in age.”
Poor, poor, naïve Candace. Soon enough, she would learn that her husband was a scoundrel, and Maeve wasn’t about to crush the first ounce of happiness the girl had shown since her arrival. Nor would she tell her the truth of her presence at the Holden ranch. Regardless, she would not perpetuate the lie Sam had just told.
“May I speak with you outside for several moments?” She gave Sam a look which she hoped displayed affection.
“Of course, darlin’.” He gave her a not-so-subtle squeeze. “If you’ll all excuse us.”
“Certainly.” Ma Holden’s voice shook. If Maeve wasn’t mistaken, Ma Holden barely spoke the word without bursting out in laughter—her eyes were certainly full of it. “Take all the time you need.”
After extricating his arm from around her waist, Sam gently pressed a hand against the small of her back. She walked at a pace faster than that of her usual. Once outside, she marched to the black walnut tree, far enough away from the house to have some privacy. Claiming a spot against the trunk, she leaned on its bark. Unable to make eye contact with him, she stared at a fallen leaf and waited for Sam to explain himself.
For two long minutes, he said nothing. She knew just how much time had passed because she counted the seconds in her head. It was a mechanism she’d often used to focus when her mind was overcome with too many thoughts. When she brought herself to look up, he was pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry, Maeve. I don’t know what I was thinking back there. Everything happened so fast, and I couldn’t think of a better way to explain your presence. I didn’t want you to suffer any more embarrassment.” He cast his eyes down to the ground before glancing back up at her with contriteness in his eyes.
She could no more be upset with him than she could Candace. Both were just innocent pawns in Patrick’s deceitful ways. Sam didn’t have it in him to do the wrong thing intentionally. She played his words back in her memory, noting that he’d addressed her by her given name, not Miss Benetton as he had to date. After all the times she’d thought of him as simply “Sam” it seemed only fitting he should call her Maeve.
“I understand you had no ill intentions, but what are we to do now?” She uncrossed her arms, letting them dangle at her side. “We can’t let Candace continue to believe a lie. You have to clear this up.” She’ll hear enough of them from your brother, she added silently. Goodness, she must stop those thoughts before bitterness took root.
Sam laughed heartily.
“I hardly think this is humorous.” She crossed her arms again and pursed her lips. With everything going on, she was suddenly weary and on the verge of being cranky.
Swiping his eyes, Sam removed his tears of laughter. “It’s not, but your expression was so obvious, I knew exactly what you were thinking.”
“Oh, and what was I thinking, pray tell?”
He took a step closer to her. “That Candace will hear enough lies from my brother without dealing with ours.”
She perked up, intrigued that she was so easily read. “Am I always that obvious?”
“Nah, I think we’re just two very like-minded people. I confess I was having very similar thoughts.”
“Why do you put up with his behavior?”
“Suppose it was one of your brothers who had acted in the manner Patrick had. Would you still love him in spite of all he did?”
“Of course.”
Sam now stood directly in front of her, so close she could feel his warm breath when he spoke. “He’s not perfect—we’re as different as fire and ice—but he’s my brother, my twin. I can’t give up on him.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Sam’s passionate loyalty to his brother struck a nerve in her. What would it be like to be granted that same devotion from him? There were so many levels to him, so much more than met the eye.
“You’re a good man, Sam.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Maeve, because right now, all I can think about is kissing you.”
Stunned into paralyzed silence, she couldn’t move from his advancing mouth. She wasn’t certain she wanted to. Their lips met and sensations she’d never experienced coursed through her. They broke apart, sooner than she had wanted, but it was for the best. Dazed, she tried to sort out what she was feeling, but there were no words to describe it.
She’d vowed never to let her heart rule her again, but Sam’s kiss had just changed everything.
Chapter 8
Sam hadn’t planned to kiss her, really he hadn’t—at least not when they’d first went outside—but as the conversation progressed, it was all he’d been able to think about. There was an attraction between them, had been since the day they met, he realized. They were too much alike and had similar values. That’s why he was able to read her thoughts. Like now, she was planning an escape because she’d enjoyed the kiss more than she cared to admit.
Her rosy cheeks and the demure downcast of her eyes evidenced that, not to mention the subtle upturn of her lips. He had to do something quick, before she left, and they still hadn’t solved the dilemma in which he’d put them. What had possessed him to make such a brash declaration, so out of line with his character?
“I should go back inside.” Maeve wrapped herself in a hug as a shiver shook her shoulders.
“Don’t go yet.” The supplicating tone hadn’t been intended, yet it reflected how he felt. “We haven’t decided how to handle this predicament.”
She untucked one arm from the other and ran it over her hair. The affection he’d spotted in her just moments before had disappeared. “There’s nothing to decide. I won’t be a party to the deception. Candace should know the truth.”
“The truth will crush her.” While he knew the lie was wrong, he remained conflicted. Patrick’s marriage would face many obstacles in the coming months, especially considering the nature of the marriage’s beginning. Inevitably, Candace would discover her husband’s past, which, hopefully, would not also become his future. Why make things even more difficult for the couple now before they’d even had time to adjust?
“I won’t mention I came to marry Patrick unless she asks, but I will tell her that you and I are only friends. We are friends, aren’t we?”
He swallowed. Yes, they had forged a friendship of sorts over the last few weeks. “I would like to think so.”
“There, problem solved.” She clapped her hands in satisfaction, but her eyes told a different story. With small steps, she started to walk away.
His hand shot out and his fingers curled around her tiny wrist with the utmost of gentleness. The softness of her skin caused him to lose his concentration. She looked at him, at his hand on her wrist and then lifted her gaze to him. For a second, he was afraid she’d extricate herself from his hold. Fear of that brought his thoughts back together.
The answer was clear as a cloudless blue sky—Patrick had even suggested it. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the reasons he’d disregarded it until now.
“There’s another solution,” he finally said.
“What?” Was it his imagination, or had her breathing become erratic.
“Marry me. Say yes and you’ll be by fiancée for real.”
She coughed and sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”
“Think about it, Maeve. You came out west to marry, correct?”
“Well, yes, but that’s because I thought Patrick and I were in love.” Her voice lacked conviction.
�
��Is that the real reason? Tell me, did you really think it was possible to love someone you’d never met? You seem much too level-headed to believe that. If you were willing to marry him, why not me?” The second the words left his mouth, he knew, too late, it was the wrong thing to say. Anger flashed in her widened eyes—he’d surprised and offended her.
“I won’t be someone’s castoff.” She yanked her arm from his grip, hitched her skirts and ran farther in the direction opposite the house. Inhaling, he let the fresh air fill his lungs completely before letting the breath out. Should he give her space or go to her and resolve this? He chose the latter.
Following her with his gaze, he waited to approach until she stopped running. With long steps, he strode to the place where she now knelt in the withering grass. She turned to look up at him and brushed a tear from her cheek. Even with red and splotchy cheeks, she was beautiful.
“May I sit?” He gestured toward the ground.
She answered him with an indifferent shrug. Her shoulders sagged again.
At least she hadn’t bitten off his head. He crouched down, stopping just short of his knees being on the ground. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
All he got was a blank stare. In no time at all, she’d erected invisible walls around her. That just wouldn’t do.
“You wouldn’t be a castoff if you and I got hitched,” he continued. “If anything, I would be the castoff, the replacement per se.”
She pinched her lips even tighter. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I’m making a mess of this. I’ve never been good with words, Maeve, but this is what I know. I know that you and I could make a good marriage. We have similar beliefs and morals. We value honor and integrity. And we are attracted to each other. That kiss several minutes ago proved that.”
Her mouth formed a small O. Finally, a response that gave him hope. “That attraction is exactly why I can’t marry you.”
He jerked his head slightly back—of all the things she could have said, he hadn’t anticipated that response. Where was the logic of her reasoning? “I thought attraction between a husband and a wife was a good thing,” he said, careful to keep his tone from any inflection which might upset her again.
