Lorinda couldn’t wait until they returned to the ranch, so things would get back to normal for them. She had no idea what normal might look like after today.
Chapter 17
Even though he was comfortable on the floor, Franklin didn’t sleep a bit, not even a short snooze. He heard every movement in the other room while Lorinda got ready for bed and had to rein in his thoughts to keep from joining her there and probably scaring her to death. After she went to bed, he waited for her to settle down. When all was quiet, he shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but the events of the day ran through his head in a never-ending cycle. Most of the memories were of Lorinda and the way she reacted to everything. Especially the kiss that shouldn’t have ever happened. He could still feel her cradled in his arms...the silky softness of her curls...the nectar sweet kiss that spiraled into something more than he’d ever imagined...how hard it had been to let her slip from his arms. Since then, the emotional connection he’d felt never let him go for even a moment.
From the time she walked down the aisle until she shut the bedroom door, Lorinda had been with him...except for the short time she went away with little Michael. When she returned she had that satisfied maternal look on her face he’d come to enjoy. He knew she had been nursing the baby.
Somehow, he felt excluded. He knew married men watched their wives nurse their children. Soon after Rand and Stella had their first baby, his best friend had mentioned how much it touched him to watch them together. How it strengthened the bond between them. Missing that made this marriage feel barren.
That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Holding Lorinda in high esteem, but untouchable. As though she was a statue on a pedestal. With a sinking feeling, he knew he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He wanted a real wife in every way. Why had he given his word that he wouldn’t want more from Lorinda than her son as his heir? Their life together could last a long time, decades even. Right now his future looked bleak.
He’d made the rash statement about not wanting a physical marriage because of what Miriam and Marvin had done to him. His heart longed to be a true husband to Lorinda. When would he stop making life-changing decisions that were mistakes?
Noticing the faint glow that preceded dawn, he got up and folded his bedding. After slipping on his boots, he strode to the window to watch the wonder of the sunrise over the mountain peaks. He always loved this time of the morning. First the glow intensified. Soon the first rays of the sun painted a thin golden rim on each mountain. It shone like the gold hidden under many of the peaks. The gold that brought hordes of men to the Rockies to seek their fortunes. It also drew swindlers and crooks like the arsonist who burned Lorinda’s cabin, and the person who murdered her husband.
He should thank the Lord for that gold. Without it, he would’ve never met Lorinda. He couldn’t go more than a few minutes without thinking about his lovely bride. He’d just spent his wedding night on the floor of a fancy hotel suite. How pathetic is that? No one could ever know.
At least Lorinda was comfortable.
Restlessness bubbled inside him. He had to get out of this room before he erupted. He hoped no one would be outside this early. He’d have to think of a reason for being out, in case someone noticed him without his bride.
Breckenridge Bakery on Lincoln Street would be open this early. The establishment was only a few blocks away, but the walk would allow him to stretch his legs. Mrs. Oleson loved the cream puffs from that bakery. Perhaps Lorinda would, too. He liked their cinnamon rolls...huge, with lots of melted butter and cinnamon. They would make a good breakfast for them.
After tip-toeing across the carpeted floor, he eased open the door, praying it wouldn’t squeak. He hadn’t noticed it doing that yesterday, but he didn’t want to awaken Lorinda. Let her sleep as long as she wanted. Give her a break from having to get up early to take care of Michael. Thoughts of Michael brought a smile to his face. He missed the little guy, too.
As he walked down the stairs, Arnie Holcomb came out of the small tavern attached to his hotel. “You’re up early, Franklin.”
“I decided to pick up some breakfast at the Breckenridge Bakery.” He was glad he’d come up with that idea before meeting someone.
“Of all the six bakeries here, I like the food at that one best.”
Franklin nodded in agreement with the hotel owner.
“We have plenty of coffee. I can have some sent up to your room when you get back.”
“Thanks, Arnie. That would be right nice.” Franklin wasn’t too happy with the other man’s smirk.
His boots sounded a drumbeat on the boardwalk along the closed businesses on his way. Soon all these other stores would be bustling with customers. He wanted to complete his mission before they opened. He’d hoped this walk would invigorate him, but his thoughts kept returning to the hotel room, wondering what Lorinda was doing. Wishing he were in bed beside her after having a satisfying wedding night. He was such an idiot to have come up with the idea of a marriage of convenience. Nothing inside him was satisfied. Probably never would be. He didn’t like that grim reminder.
Enticing smells greeted him two blocks before he reached his destination. Cinnamon rolls hot from the oven made his mouth water. He hoped they also had those cream puffs this early.
If only this was the morning after a real wedding night. He’d be looking forward to feeding the cream puffs to his beautiful bride...one bite at a time.
He shook his head to dislodge that image.
Lorinda slowly stretched as she awakened. Michael was still quiet. She opened her eyes and sat up, glancing around the room. The hotel suite. No wonder everything was so quiet.
She wondered if Franklin was awake. She didn’t want to go into the parlor and find him asleep on the floor. How could she have agreed to that? What a callous woman she must be. What could she do until he got up? Maybe he’d be up by the time she finished her morning ablutions.
Heading for the wash room, she hoped to get freshened up before Franklin saw her. She splashed water on her face, then wiped it off. A polished mirror hung over the wash basin. She looked just like she did before she became Mrs. Franklin Vine. For some reason, she expected there to be some differences after yesterday. With nimble fingers, she quickly unwound the loose braid she slept in. Her hair fell into abundant, wavy curls that reached down her back. After brushing them out for several minutes, the air crackled around her, lifting strands and letting them go.
When she lived on the mountain, she often left her curls hanging down or tied them back with a ribbon, much the way Franklin had done yesterday. But since she’d been living on the ranch, she pinned her hair up on her head in a soft style. That’s what she’d do today if all her hairpins hadn’t fallen to the floor at the end of the wedding. She wondered if anyone thought to pick them up. She hoped Mrs. Oleson did. If not, they’d need to buy some more.
She couldn’t remember the wedding without reliving that amazing kiss. A kiss that gave much more than it took from her. And she’d given plenty in the long embrace. His tender caresses gently coaxed more from her, and she gladly allowed him to deepen the kiss. She’d felt protected and almost cherished. But that was only for show. So no one would know about their marriage.
No one but the two of them. She and her new husband shared a secret. She wished the secret was the lie and the kiss was real. She brushed her fingertips over her lips and the memory burned bright accompanied by tingling in her mouth. Heat pulsed deep within her...for only a moment. She wondered how often she would revisit the embrace and yearn for what was not to be. How soon will my regret sour our relationship beyond repair?
She donned a lovely, navy blue calico dress sprinkled with tiny white flowers that fit her figure like a glove, then tied her hair back with the blue ribbon Franklin had used.
A noise from the other room alerted her that someone had inserted a key into the lock on the door to their suite. How dare someone invade our privacy like this?
She opened
the connecting door and found the bedding and pillow Franklin had used beside the doorway. She grabbed them and tossed them on the bed, then turned back. Her husband wasn’t anywhere in the room. Had he left her already? Pain sliced through her. Just because Mike left and never came back didn’t mean something had happened to Franklin.
He walked through the opened door, carrying a fairly large paper bag.
Mr. Holcomb followed him with a china coffee pot and two cups, saucers, and plates on a tray. “Here’s your coffee. Have a nice breakfast. Take all the time you need before you leave for the ranch.”
“Thanks, Arnie. We will.” Franklin set the new-fangled flat-bottomed paper bag beside the tray on the table by the window.
After giving her a curious nod, the hotel proprietor left.
Franklin stood by the table, and she was rooted beside the bedroom door. They stared at each other for an extended moment. Once again, the connection between them made her breathless. She wished they hadn’t lost the wonder of a real wedding night. Since Franklin was so thoughtful about her needs, she wondered about how marvelous their lovemaking would have been.
This has got to stop.
He glanced down at the sack. “I went to the bakery to get our breakfast. I didn’t think we’d want to eat in the tavern.”
He glanced up at her again, and his tenderness and thoughtfulness softened her heart.
Lorinda hurried toward the table to serve whatever was in the sack, but he was already placing a cinnamon roll on each plate. Standing beside him, she poured the coffee, his black and a lump of sugar and a dollop of cream in hers. She hadn’t even noticed the sugar bowl and cream pitcher when Mr. Holcomb brought in the tray. Perhaps Franklin ordered them. Two large white napkins were under the plates. The warmth from his body enveloped her, and she glanced up at his face.
“Why don’t you sit in that chair?” He shifted a step or two from her. “You can use the small table beside it to set your coffee.” He picked up a plate and napkin.
Was she standing too close to him? Was that why he moved away?
She set her coffee on the indicated side table, then sank into the wingback chair. He followed her and handed her the fragrant pastry on the plate and dropped the napkin in a pile in her lap. She glanced down and started straightening it out.
“I’m sorry we don’t have forks. I can go down and get a couple from Arnie.” He headed toward the door.
“We can use our fingers.” She picked up the roll and took a heavenly bite, relishing the taste of the sugary butter and cinnamon in the fluffy roll. When the bite was gone, she continued. “These napkins will work just fine. We can wet them when we’re finished if we...need to get all the sticky off.”
Franklin nodded. He ate standing up by the table near the window, his gaze fastened on the distant mountains.
One of the things she liked the most about him was his love of the Rockies. In her mind, the peaks held up the sky and surrounded them with protection. She loved living on the ranch nestled in the valley a few miles outside town. Remembering the small hills that scattered around her hometown in Missouri, she couldn’t imagine ever leaving these majestic mountains to live in a place like that again.
Actually, Franklin’s gaze roved over the room...everywhere except at her. Was he as nervous as she was?
He set his coffee cup in his saucer. “Would you like to do any shopping before we go back to the ranch? I’ve set up an account for you at the bank, so you have as much money as you need for anything you want.”
“I’m not lacking anything I need.” She smiled up at him. He had been paying her to work with Mrs. Oleson, and she’d hidden that money away with the two pokes of gold Mike gave her.
“I know.” He set the cup and saucer down and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black suit pants. Once again, he stared out the window. “But now that you’re my wife, you can look beyond needs to...wants you wouldn’t ever spend money on before. Although some years are leaner than others...” He turned back toward her. “...I make a good living on the ranch, and it also belongs to you now.”
She almost choked on the bite she’d just taken. Slowly, she chewed it up, trying to think about how to answer that statement. The twinkle of light that shot from the ring on her left hand caught her attention. “Franklin, did this ring belong to your mother like the pearls did?” She set the coffee cup down and fingered the glittering jewels.
His intense gaze brought a flush to her cheeks. She wished she didn’t blush so easily around him. What did he see when he studied her so intently?
“No, Lorinda. I bought that for you...only you.”
She was trying so hard to put emotional distance between them, then he would do something so tender and loving. She had to remind herself he didn’t mean it that way. Perhaps his wife needed to own nice things so the neighbors would believe the marriage was real. Living with him was going to be so hard. Always wondering what he really meant by what he said and what he did.
They hurried to finish breakfast and pack. Having something to do took her mind off their problems.
Lorinda reentered the parlor. While she was in the bedroom gathering her things, the coffee, dishes, and tray disappeared. Franklin must have taken them downstairs.
Dragging her trunk behind her, she hadn’t realized it would be so heavy.
“Let me help you with that.” Franklin’s fingers grazed hers as he slipped his hand in the handle. He stopped a moment before he hefted it up on his shoulder. Maybe he had felt the same spark she did when they touched. She rubbed at the tingles that shot from her hand and up her arm.
He opened the door, then lifted his bag with the other hand. “I’ll take these things downstairs, then go to the livery to rent a carriage to take you home.”
Home. Yes, she finally had a home of her own again. A home she’d grown to love. A good place to raise her son. Their son.
“You can stay here in the room, or you can sit in the lobby until I get back.”
Lorinda didn’t want to be on display for whoever might come into the hotel. “I’ll wait here.”
Standing in the doorway, she watched her husband descend the stairs with their luggage. At least, no one was in the area of the lobby that she could see from her vantage point, looking through the stair railing.
When he reached the front door, a laugh burst from him, then he turned and looked toward her through the banister on the lobby side of the staircase. “Come on down, Lorinda. Rusty is waiting out front with our buggy.”
Chapter 18
When Lorinda arrived on the board walk outside the hotel, Franklin and Rusty were loading the luggage into the buggy. “What a surprise to find you out here, Rusty.”
For the first time, she saw the cowboy blush.
“Thought you and the boss would want to ride home in the buggy...Mrs. Vine.”
The name, coming from one of the ranch hands, stopped Lorinda for a moment. She would have to get used to hearing people call her Mrs. Vine, instead of Lorinda or Mrs. Sullivan. With the deception attached to the wedding, the name didn’t feel like it fit. Lord, please help me. Since they were lying about their marriage, would He listen to her?
“That was thoughtful of you.” Lorinda tried to smile, but it felt tight.
“I brought Mrs. Oleson to town. She has several things to do today.” He climbed up on the driver’s seat. “I’m gonna drive you home, and I’ll come back later to pick her up in the wagon. She’s buying supplies, too.”
Franklin leaned close to her ear. “That explains why we have a ride.” The scent of cinnamon from their breakfast came with his breath.
He clasped her waist between his strong hands and lifted her to the buggy seat as if she were as light as a butterfly. Her stomach fluttered like the beautiful insect as well. Why did just the feel of his hands always cause some kind of unusual reaction in her person?
“Thank you, Franklin.” She arranged her skirt without looking at him.
“My pleasure, M
rs. Vine.”
The emphasis he placed on the last two words intensified the feelings that unsettled her. She peeked at him, and his smoldering smile lit a fire in her heart. She knew he was only playing a part in front of the people who were out and about in town, but something deep inside wished it wasn’t so.
Franklin climbed up and settled close beside her. “We’re ready, Rusty.”
As the buggy rolled out of town, many people turned to stare at them. Most wore smiles. A few had a kind of smirk that made her uncomfortable.
Lorinda felt she was on display, and she didn’t like it. When they finally left the town behind, she relaxed. Even though the morning was heating up, the speed of the horses stirred a breeze that kept her cool.
For some reason, everything looked different today. The tall trees were greener. Wildflowers covered meadows with a myriad of colors, as if God had taken a paintbrush and splashed various hues across the fields. Birds sailed high in the sky against a cerulean backdrop for the few cottony clouds that floated lazily as if on a slow-moving river. Enjoying the fresh air, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
Franklin leaned closer and put his arm across the back of the seat. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” The word whispered at the end of her exhale.
No, you’re too close to me. Her gaze fell to her hands clasped in her lap. The faint aroma of the Bay Rum Oil he used yesterday still lingered, along with the unique masculine scent she’d become familiar with since she lived at the Rocking V. She wanted to turn away but didn’t want him to notice.
“Are you sure?” The words blew against her ear.
When did he move that close? If she turned her head up toward him, their lips might almost touch...maybe they would. Maybe she wanted to see if that kiss yesterday was a fluke. But could her heart take it? The memory of the feelings she’d only experienced that one time flooded over her, bringing back the fire in her belly and capturing her breath.
A Heart's Gift Page 14
