Romancing the Bride

by Melissa Jagears

  She sorely needed a hug, but he held off. She might not welcome an embrace yet. “You’ve got remarkable property here, and I have to say your garden arrangement is the neatest I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait to see how well it produces this summer.”

  Her head snapped up, and she halted mid-stride.

  His tongue turned into cotton as he looked into her wide eyes. Yes, he intended to be with her when the bean trellis flowered and the tomatoes fell off the vine.

  She swallowed multiple times.

  He pulled on his shirt collar, wishing he could unbutton it without looking uncouth. How did one propose when love wasn’t part of the equation, yet make the moment something they’d treasure in the future?

  Annie wrung her hands. Was the marshal saying what she thought he was saying? She’d been grateful when he hadn’t turned her down flat the night she brought up this crazy idea, but truly, nothing about her would attract a man like him.

  Well, besides the property. She shook her head at the ungracious thought, for that was exactly why she’d proposed to a stranger—to save Gregory’s ranch. So if that’s the reason Jacob chose to accept her unconventional proposal, she would never blame him for it.

  Searching his dark brown eyes, she saw no pity or greedy anticipation. He’d proven himself this last week to be a sensible, caring man. She couldn’t have made a wiser choice. If he didn’t say yes, she’d sell. No other suitor could measure up.

  His firm jawline indicated maturity and honor. His muscled arms hinted at hard work and strength. How would they feel wrapped around her? Her cheeks burned, and she looked away. No recent widow should think such things.

  This is a business deal, Annie.

  “I ... well—” Jacob exhaled, grabbed her shoulders, and looked her square in the eye. “That is to say, I would be honored if you would do me the favor of accepting me as your husband.”

  She wound a stray thread around her finger and tried to focus on him, but the word she needed to utter stalled on her lips. She should say yes—no question, no hesitation. She’d asked him for this, but now, a sudden need to know more ached in her chest. “Why?”

  His eyebrows furrowed.

  “I mean, I know you’re offering because I asked, but how did you come to your decision?”

  Nodding, he laced her arm through his and walked toward the natural spring. “Lots of reasons. I’ve wanted to ranch since my parents sold their cattle farm in Texas, but I’ve never had enough money for a piece of property I thought worthy of the attempt—I’m not a gambler. You and your husband chose your land wisely, and your improvements are sound.”

  Her chest filled with the pride Gregory would’ve felt from such a compliment. His inheritance had easily purchased the land, but he had run ahead of his expertise, making so many costly errors the money had disappeared. Jacob’s exercise of caution before jumping into a profession, a commitment, boded well.

  And she hadn’t known about his prior experience with cattle, which made one of her fears melt away. She didn’t want to relive the many ranching mistakes she and Gregory had made if she could help it. They’d been young, and with Gregory’s unexpected inheritance from the early deaths of his parents, he’d come out to tame the West, hopping from one territory to another before they’d settled here. She’d never thought the money would run out, that she’d have to be responsible for more than hearth and home. But this time, she needed to be more involved, in case something happened to—

  She shook her head. She’d not continue that thought.

  “Also, I love your children. I know how it is to go years without a father’s wisdom and a mother’s love. With Mr. Gephart’s death, Celia and Spencer are without a father and that hurts my heart.” His hand slid across her back, and his arm settled across her shoulders.

  Her skin tingled from his touch, and she looked up.

  “And you, Annie Gephart, are an admirable woman whom I’d like to help.”

  Her heart pounded in her ears as her body focused on the warm arm wrapped around her. If God could help her future husband not get so tangled up in the land that he ignored his family, perhaps life could be better. Nothing wrong with wishing for the future to be better, right?

  “And what about your ... expectations?” She shook her head and looked at the dirt at their feet. What was she thinking to lead a man on when she wasn’t ready for—

  “We’re practically strangers, Annie.” He tilted her chin up to gaze into her eyes. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to those expectations.”

  She filled her lungs with pine-scented air until her chest nearly burst and glanced at the grave markers a handful of paces away. “Then I’ll assist you in any way that I can if you’ll help me keep this ranch for my children.”

  Thankfully, she’d not have to leave her three little ones behind. It was hard enough to think about them buried in the icy ground at night while she slept in a warm cabin, but it had been even harder to think of abandoning them forever. An irrational thought, yes, but one that had made her unable to sleep comfortably these past several days.

  May you bless what I’m committing to for the sake of my family.

  She squared her shoulders. “I suppose all we have left to do is set a date?”

  “It’d be nice to hear you say ‘yes’ first.” His sly grin caused her to blush.

  She wrapped her arms about herself. “Yes,” she whispered.

  At his brightened smile, goose bumps traveled up her arms.

  “When should we marry, Marshal Hendrix?”

  His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I think at this point you should call me Jacob.” He took her cold hands and enfolded them into his warm ones. “And as for the date—tomorrow.”

  She blinked. Once. Several times. “Tomorrow?”

  Chapter Seven

  No matter how many times Annie wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, they refused to remain dry. Unable to take her focus off the little white church they were heading toward, Annie couldn’t keep the wagon from bouncing over every rut and hitting every hole in Main Street.

  She passed Celia the reins. “Take these. I can’t keep hold of them.”

  Her mouth grew drier the closer they got—the closer she was to being married again. All the time she had left as a widow was the time it took to sit through a service, shake people’s hands, and walk an aisle. She pressed her eyes shut, wishing Spencer wasn’t whistling so loudly she couldn’t fully process the second thoughts swirling inside her.

  Marrying really ought to be for more than material security, shouldn’t it? Was this right for Spencer and Celia? Could Jacob ever—

  Ploomp. Annie slid across the bench almost falling into Celia’s lap. She smashed a hand against her hat to keep it from flying off.

  “Sorry.” Celia tugged the reins to the right.

  Regardless, the wagon’s back wheel followed the front’s lead and thunked down into a hole the size of Mr. Sullivan’s prize sow. Why did the council bother having Jacob insist on everyone building sidewalks when the road was in such need of repair?

  Of course, in a matter of hours, he’d no longer need to deal with the city council at all.

  Celia halted the team in the churchyard and said nothing. She’d held her tongue ever since Jacob had told the children they’d decided to marry.

  Could she hope that under all her daughter’s gruff defiance, a glimmer of maturity sparked? She could only pray it was so. She’d never had much problem with her daughter until after Gregory died, so perhaps a male adult’s influence was what she needed to curb her rebellion.

  Spencer scrambled out of the back of the wagon and ran straight for Jacob’s house.

  Celia remained in her seat, smoothing the folds of her nicest dress. “Are you all right, Ma?”

  She wasn’t. But her daughter wasn’t who she needed to talk to about the swirling unease that made her want to jump off the wagon and run far, far away.

  Annie’s eyes grew hot, and she shrugged while st
aring down at the grime outlining her fingernails. What kind of woman got married with dirt embedded in the cracks of her hands? She’d been too busy keeping up with the garden to prepare properly for a wedding.

  Celia leaned back against the hard wagon seat, but hadn’t huffed in aggravation or impatience.

  Annie looked up to see concern in her daughter’s eyes. Was Celia truly thinking about someone other than herself today? “I’m nervous, I guess.”

  In front of them, couples and families walked through the churchyard. Some tipped their hats or gave them a friendly smile.

  How would they look at her tomorrow once they learned of her quick nuptials? How many would shake their heads at her for marrying again so soon?

  Celia climbed down, took a step toward the church, but then turned back and offered her hand to help her mother down. “Everyone’s likely nervous on their wedding day, Ma. And you have more reason than most, I’d reckon.”

  Once Annie had alighted, Celia backed away and shrugged. “But I think Daddy would be happy you’re saving his land. So if marrying the marshal’s the best way to do it, then don’t worry about it anymore.”

  The girl hadn’t been this thoughtful in ages. Annie sighed. “Thank you, Celia, I—”

  “Hey, Daniel!” Celia waved at a group of boys loitering across the street and ran straight for their neighbors’ youngest.

  “Celia! Sunday school’s about to start.” At Annie’s call, the girl turned just enough to throw her a scowl before changing direction to stomp toward the marshal’s place.

  Now that was the Celia she knew.

  But oh, how she preferred the daughter she’d glimpsed a few seconds ago.

  Celia disappeared into Jacob’s house, and Annie’s heart beat hard against her chest. She had no reason to visit Jacob right now, but it felt odd to avoid the man she was about to marry.

  She tried to brush the road dust off her best navy skirt and the carefully pressed rose-colored shirtwaist she’d pulled out of storage, but her damp palms acted more like magnets.

  Walking over to one of Jacob’s curtained windows, she used her reflection to adjust the flat-topped straw hat she’d purchased late yesterday. She couldn’t afford a new dress, but she’d wanted something to mark the day and to appear as if she weren’t in mourning anymore, though it was technically too early for that.

  She frowned at her face beneath the ribbons and silk roses and stopped fiddling. No amount of fine-tuning could make her appear more beautiful. The wide pink and white striped ribbon around the hat’s brim did make her eyes seem a little brighter though.

  She looked up at the line of windows that spanned the second story of Jacob’s house. Would he feel cramped in her cabin? Would she, once he moved in?

  Nothing could be done about it now unless they called off the wedding.

  And if he was having as many second thoughts as she was, he very well could.

  Maybe popping her head into his Sunday school to ask if everything was set wasn’t a good idea after all. If his handsome face was marred with a frown of displeasure or his eyes flashed pity when he saw her, how would she keep herself together during service?

  “Jacob, you are so funny!”

  A tinkling feminine giggle seized Annie’s anxiously beating heart.

  “Well, thank you. And thanks for the cookies as well.” Jacob’s low timbre dripped of solicitude.

  Annie tried to swallow but couldn’t.

  However, her feet propelled her to the corner of the house just close enough to see who was talking to Jacob on his front porch.

  The backside of a tall curvaceous blonde hid most of the marshal from view.

  Gwendolyn McGill.

  The young lady was never seen without a dainty hat atop her perfectly coifed hair and white gloves secured by dozens of pearl buttons. No woman out West should be able to keep such gloves as pristine as Miss McGill did, but then, the socialite never had reason to dirty them, considering her father was the richest man in Armelle and she the ultimate woman of leisure.

  “After hearing how you burnt the cookies last week, I told Papa you’d welcome me taking care of that for you.” Gwen placed her hand on Jacob’s arm quite longer than necessary.

  Annie slid back into the shadows and fingered a loose tendril of her own hair. She’d been so happy to coax it into thick waves this morning, but it was nothing like Miss McGill’s perfect ringlets.

  Miss McGill had never hidden her favor for the marshal, but Annie hadn’t thought to think about their relationship before accepting Jacob’s proposal. Did he have feelings for the young woman?

  “I’ll bring treats every week if you’d like.” Miss McGill’s voice quieted, her tone nearly a purr now. “Why! How about we just make this official and have little ol’ me help you with Sunday school each week? Goodness knows a man ought to have a woman helping him with so many kids.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I have it under control.” Strolling footsteps sounded against the porch’s planks. “I’ll let you know if that changes.”

  Annie nearly took off to hide behind the house, but that would certainly look foolish. She forced herself forward to meet them at the stairs.

  The pair noticed her at the same time as they stepped onto the ground together. Miss McGill stepped closer to Jacob, tightening her arm around his, and gave Annie a dazzling smile. Jacob stiffened.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Gephart!” The blonde’s blue eyes sparkled. “I just told Jacob he ought to get himself an assistant with so many children here on Sunday mornings. Don’t you think he ought to take my advice and let me help out?”

  Absolutely not.

  Jacob’s eyes widened like a deer’s alerted to a human’s presence, and he slid his arm from Miss McGill’s grasp.

  “Perhaps he does need a helpmate.” Annie’s voice came out flat, but the twinkle in Jacob’s eye relaxed the tension in her jaw.

  She let out a breath. “Good morning, Jacob.”

  “Good morning, Annie.” A tilt of his lips made her feel warm inside, but the warmth turned to heat when his gaze cascaded down the rest of her.

  Miss McGill’s smile twitched as she eyed the two of them. “Well, I think we’re a tad late for our class, Mrs. Gephart. Why don’t we let Jacob here get back to the children? If he needs help, he knows where to find me.” She flashed her straight white teeth at him and then sashayed toward Annie. Her mouth was still curved, though downward now. “We are quite late, are we not?” She linked her arm through Annie’s rigid one and pulled her in the opposite direction.

  Annie looked over her shoulder as Miss McGill dragged her away.

  “I’ll see you after church.” Jacob winked.

  Annie gave him a timid smile.

  Miss McGill dropped her arm and pivoted back, sporting her bright smile again. “Yes, after church.”

  Jacob’s mouth skewed to the side, his eyes glittering more than usual. He tipped his head and walked back onto his porch.

  When he disappeared inside, Miss McGill started them back toward the church.

  Looming over town, at the far end of Main Street, the McGills’ large house sat nestled against a small rise. Its twin turrets ascended toward the thin clouds wafting overhead, the pristine lawn full of flowering bushes.

  Annie’s smile faded. Why had Jacob chosen her over Miss McGill? Though Gwendolyn had no land of her own, her father surely had more than enough money to buy her and any future son-in-law five ranches twice the size of Annie’s.

  And Miss McGill was prettier, younger, and without the burden of children.

  The young lady leaned to half-whisper in Annie’s ear, keeping tight hold of her arm as she marched them toward the church doors. “I say, Jacob’s downright good looking, isn’t he?”

  Miss McGill looked away to snag the attention of the town lawyer, who tipped his hat at them as he passed. She reached out to clasp his coat sleeve and pouted becomingly. “Where’re you going, Mr. Grayson? Don’t tell me you aren’t coming to
church this morning.”

  He swept his hat off, revealing a glistening high forehead stretching toward his receding hairline. He gave her a slight bow. “Oh, no, Miss McGill. I’ll be back shortly.”

  She pushed his shoulder with a playful flick of her hand. “Good. Wouldn’t want to miss having your handsome self in there.”

  Annie switched her weight from one foot to the other and tried to put some space between her and Miss McGill. The woman always did flash smiles and flutter eyelashes at every man who walked past. Annie didn’t want any man thinking she was as much of a flirt as Gwendolyn.

  And why was Miss McGill latched so tightly onto her arm now anyhow? The young lady had never acknowledged her before, not beyond the normal exchange of pleasantries anyway.

  Scowling, Annie tried to quicken the pace of Miss McGill’s gliding walk.

  A stride or two away from the entrance, Miss McGill whispered into Annie’s ear again. “I think I’ve decided it’s time to limit my charms for the enjoyment of just one man. Don’t you think that’s a good decision?” She waved her fan at a young man tethering his horse in the church’s side yard.

  Annie fought not to roll her eyes. It was a most unbecoming gesture, and she already looked dowdy enough attached to Miss McGill’s fashionable arm. “Yes, I’d say that’s wise.”

  She forced herself to take a slow breath. Could the town flirt be in want of motherly advice? After Gwendolyn’s mother died, the mayor had become taciturn and difficult. Perhaps the young lady just needed someone to talk to. “Once a man shows you interest, it’s best that—”

  “Oh, I’ve got plenty of interest. Bored with it actually. So I’m going to let the one I’ve chosen know I’ve decided on him. Don’t you think the marshal and I would make an adorable couple?”

  Chapter Eight

  Upon spotting his wife trying to peer through a City Hall window, Bryant sped up. The blister forming on his heel stung, but he forged on. If only he hadn’t needed to wear his dress shoes for this morning’s unexpected “errand.” But he’d known he’d be unable to swing back home and make it to church on time.