Bride by Arrangement

by Karen Kirst

  Hannah and James had a small house on the other side of town. As the weather had been pleasant, they’d parked the wagon and walked to Will’s. While she’d been chatting up D.B., fat clouds had rolled in, their broad undersides a deep gray hue. The wind had kicked up as well, tugging at her skirts and hairpins.

  Noah studied the low skies that blocked the remaining light. His black hat, the one he reserved for Sunday services, flew off behind him. Waiting as he dashed to retrieve it, she peeled strands of hair from her lips.

  “Didn’t see this coming,” he remarked, his hand on her middle back, urging her onward.

  Just as I didn’t see my feelings for you until it was too late, she thought, relishing his protective touch.

  “We may have to wait a little while at Hannah’s before heading out to the ranch,” he said. “Don’t wanna get caught in a storm with the girls.”

  “They’d be terrified. But I’m sure you’d be able to reassure them.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Their route took them along Grant Street, which ran parallel to Eden. It was comprised mostly of humble clapboard houses and a handful of vacant lots. They were alone due to the lateness of the hour and the impending downpour.

  “I do. You’re good with them, Noah. You’d make a fine father.”

  His pace faltered as he stared over at her in surprise. “You mean that?”

  “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

  Focusing straight ahead, he looked grim as they passed Irving’s furniture store and turned left onto First Street. They walked east in complete silence.

  On the corner of Eden and First, yellow light shone through the Cowboy Café’s many windows. Straggling customers sipped steaming mugs of coffee and conversed over bowls of pinto beans and ham. They had just passed the closed bakery when the first raindrops hit the dirt. Seconds later, the skies released their bounty in earnest. Grace gasped as cool drops pelted her hair and exposed skin.

  Noah clasped her hand and pulled her into a tight alley between the laundry’s main building and its storage shed. The overhang was barely wide enough to shelter them from the onslaught. Noah situated her against the exterior wall, her back against the boards while he faced her, his broad body a barrier between her and the weather. Rain splashed onto her boots and hem, as well as his pant legs.

  “You’re going to get drenched,” she scolded, tugging on his sleeves to urge him closer.

  He took a hesitant step forward, his hat’s brim shading his eyes. “A little water won’t hurt me,” he drawled.

  Feeling cocooned in a private world with him, Grace’s nerve endings tingled as she dashed water from her cheeks. Her hair was wet and heavy against her neck. She shivered in the damp air.

  Noah noticed, his gaze darkening as he set his hands on her upper arms and ran them down the length, displacing the excess droplets. The scrape and slide of his roughened palms didn’t help settle her.

  “I’d give you my suit jacket, but it’s wet.”

  Nodding, she hugged her middle and stared past his shoulder to the gray curtain of rain.

  “Thanks for what you did back there,” he said, drawing her attention to him. “With Burrows.”

  “I did my best.”

  He released a soft, husky laugh. “You always do. I have yet to see you give less than your all.” His features warmed with tenderness. “I never thought—”

  A screeching animal landed at Grace’s feet. Frightened, she latched on to Noah, her arms going round his neck as she let loose a screech of her own and tried to escape.

  “Relax. It’s only a cat.” His lips brushed her earlobe as he encircled her waist, anchoring her against him. While he was scanning the alley, she buried her face in his lapel, inhaling his distinct scent.

  “You’re sure?” Her words were muffled.

  “Positive.”

  Time to let go now, Grace.

  A shaky sigh escaped. She started to pull away, smoothing the black suit front. “I’m sorry.”

  His hold tightened a fraction, preventing her. “No need to be.”

  Raising her chin, she looked deep into his eyes, searching for a glimpse of what was in his heart. While there were no answers to that mystery, there was longing.

  “You never finished your sentence,” she said.

  Noah’s gaze was roaming her face, snagging on her mouth. “Hmm?”

  “You said, ‘I never thought.’ You never thought what?”

  “I never thought a city girl would take to boomtown life so effortlessly.” He gave his head a little shake, beads of moisture flying from his Stetson. “I had you pegged wrong from the beginning. Not much surprises me these days.” His palm splayed against her back, warming her skin through the thin material. “You surprised me, Constance.”

  He curved his big hand over her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut. That name didn’t belong to her, and she was beginning to hate hearing him say it.

  This is wrong.

  Before she could move, speak, act, she felt the coolness of his firm lips settle against hers. She clung to him. Bittersweet and tortuous, Noah’s kiss gave her no peace. Only unfulfilled dreams and the promise of a joyless future. This didn’t change anything. His actions were fueled by a loneliness he refused to acknowledge. He didn’t love her. Didn’t wish to mesh his life with hers.

  And how could he?

  He knew her as Constance Miller, not Grace Longstreet. He didn’t know her deepest, darkest secrets.

  Neither of them heard the riders at first. By the time the male voices registered, it was too late. A pair of young men clad in dusters, their hats pulled low against the rain, had spotted them and slowed to stare. They didn’t look amused.

  Noah’s demeanor changed in an instant. His features hardened, any softness in him gone. Slowly disengaging from her hold, he met the riders’ perusal with a glare until they kicked in their heels and rode off. The horses’ hooves kicked up mud.

  Cold leached into her. “Noah, what’s wrong? Who were those men?”

  “Colton Bailey’s ranch hands.”

  Lifting trembling fingers to cover her mouth, she tried to sort through her jumbled emotions. Colton was a nice man. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  Noah’s expression was grim. “Looks like he’s off the potential-husband list.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Oh! What a sight you two are! Come in out of the rain.”

  Hannah ushered Noah and Constance inside her cozy house, peering past them to what was now a drizzle, while James brought them each a towel.

  His infant daughter was tucked against his chest, wrapped in blankets and sleeping without a care in the world. James doted on Ava. Noah thought the young cowboy was making up for lost time, as he hadn’t been around for the baby’s birth or the first few weeks of her life. He hadn’t even known she existed. Hannah had hidden her pregnancy and the birth of their baby because she’d been scared of her father’s reaction. While Noah understood her concerns, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to forgive her so quickly if he’d been in James’s shoes. There was never a good enough reason for dishonesty.

  What about what you and the others are doing to hide recent crimes from Mr. McAllister? a voice persisted. Isn’t that dishonesty by omission?

  “We’re getting your floor all wet,” Constance murmured, her voice low and strained.

  She’d gone pale beneath that awning and hadn’t yet regained her color.

  He’d messed up in a major way. By casting reason aside, he’d unintentionally ruined her chances with Colton, a good man who would’ve treated her right.

  He hadn’t wanted to mention it, but depending on how far word spread, he might’ve damaged her reputation. There was no way to make up for that.

 
“Don’t worry about it.” Hannah nodded to the bedroom. “We were reading books, and Abigail drifted off to sleep. Jane is still awake, I think. If you want to go on in, Constance, I’ll heat some warm milk.” Her somber gray eyes met his. “Sheriff, may I speak to you in the kitchen?”

  For a wild moment, he thought she knew about the kiss and was about to scold him. But she couldn’t know. Yet.

  Inside the small but efficient kitchen just off the main living area, Noah took a seat at the table and waited, uncomfortable in his wet clothes, as she tossed kindling in the firebox and filled a pan with milk.

  James stood in the opening, quiet and watchful, the doorjamb supporting his weight.

  “How was the party?” she asked, taking a pair of enamel mugs from the shelf.

  “Not bad. We had a close call with D.B., but we managed to keep him away from Mr. McAllister.”

  Resting her hands against the counter, Hannah said, “Was Prudence there?”

  “No. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her around lately. Why do you ask?”

  “From the moment we met on the train, something about her struck me as familiar. I’ve pondered it off and on in the weeks since and yesterday it came to me. When I was in Harper, I met a man there named Isaac Burrows. He founded Harper and built it into a prosperous town.”

  Harper had since gone bust—all because the Union Pacific chose Cowboy Creek for their terminus. Unfortunate for Burrows and the residents.

  “Burrows. Any relation to D. B. Burrows?”

  “I don’t know. Here’s the strange part—Prudence and Isaac look enough alike that they could be brother and sister.”

  “D.B. hails from Missouri. Prudence Haywood is from Chicago.” He furrowed his brow in confusion. “I don’t see a connection. Perhaps it’s coincidence.”

  “Maybe. The other girls and I think it odd how Prudence treats D.B. He’s her boss at the paper, yet she acts as if he’s her fellow employee. She bosses him around, and he lets her.” Releasing a breath, she hesitated a moment before going on. “At first, we wondered if there was a romance brewing between them. We haven’t seen any evidence of that, however.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, which was wet at the ends. “The widow Haywood hasn’t shown any inclination toward romance.”

  “I don’t know what this means, if anything. Telling you seemed the right thing to do.”

  “Thanks, Hannah. I’ll look into it.”

  Sorting this puzzle would at least help get his mind off Constance for a little while.

  * * *

  Noah left the train station the following morning, feeling relieved and a whole lot less guilty. Confession was good for the soul. He could attest to that. After a lengthy discussion with his friends, they’d decided to come clean to Mr. McAllister. Standing on that train platform, he’d considered all that Noah had told him and thanked him for his forthrightness. He’d let them know his decision in the coming weeks.

  Whatever the outcome, at least he, Will and Daniel could move forward with clear consciences.

  The thick envelope in his pocket represented another effort to attain peace. Long before Constance confronted him, his silence toward his family had bothered him. He couldn’t continue to let them wonder what had happened to him. Last night, he’d taken pen and paper out to the barn and written page after page, apologizing for waiting so long and explaining where his life had taken him. Making his way to the post office, he encountered Gus and Old Horace rocking in front of Booker’s store.

  “Here comes the sheriff,” Gus drawled, stroking his straggly gray beard. “I heard you’ve been a naughty boy. You hear that, Horace?”

  “Sure did.”

  Noah stopped, hoping against hope they weren’t talking about what he thought they were. “I haven’t been called a boy in a long time, fellas.”

  Gus pinned him with a pair of bloodshot eyes. “Maybe that’s ’cause you ain’t acted like a boy in a long time.”

  “Until now.” Horace kept rocking.

  “Until now,” Gus parroted. “Never figured you for a man who’d take advantage of a defenseless widow, Noah Burgess.”

  Noah’s day was about to get worse. If these two knew about it, the entire town would soon.

  At the post office, the clerk acted as if he was a notorious criminal. On his walk back to the jail, a pair of older ladies whispered furiously at the sight of him, and it wasn’t because of his scars or Wolf trotting beside him.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised to find Colton Bailey waiting for him.

  Noah wondered if he’d be nursing a black eye. Not that he didn’t deserve one. The rancher looked more resigned than angry, however.

  Shooting up from the bench situated between the newspaper office and the jail, Colton fisted and unfisted his hands. “Sheriff Burgess, I’d like a word.”

  “Of course.” He unlocked the door. “Let’s talk inside.”

  He didn’t need a spectacle right here on Eden Street adding to the scandal.

  His key ring landed on the desk with a thunk. Rounding it, he sat down and gestured for Colton to do the same. He refused.

  Noah spoke first. “I owe you an apology, Bailey.”

  He held up a hand. “I don’t want an apology. Constance and I...we didn’t have a commitment.” Sadness turned down the corners of his mouth. “Not yet, anyway. I thought we were on our way to having something good.” Slapping his hat against his thigh, anger blazed in his dark eyes. “What I want from you, Burgess, is an explanation. If you wanted her for yourself, why pawn her off on another man?”

  Guilt burned in his gut. He’d resolved the county rep problem with one conversation. However, this situation he’d created wouldn’t go away so easily.

  “I’m not in the market for a wife. That’s common knowledge around here, I believe.”

  The excuse sounded inept, even to his ears.

  Red tinged Colton’s cheekbones. “Do you dislike Constance that much?”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I like her.”

  Be honest. Your feelings for her go beyond mere friendship. How far beyond he was afraid to think about.

  Hands on his hips, the younger man glared down at Noah. “Her good standing in this town is in jeopardy because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. You refuse to marry her. What man in his right mind would offer for her now?”

  Standing abruptly, Noah stalked to the nearest cell and curved his hands around the cold metal bars. What had he done? He belonged in one of these for his selfish, reckless actions. Clearly he hadn’t been thinking rationally. Not last night in the alley. Not at Hannah and James’s wedding. If someone besides Pippa had discovered them that day in the woods, someone inclined to gossip, they would’ve been dealing with this before now.

  Colton wasn’t finished. “If she’s not good enough for Cowboy Creek’s sheriff, who is she good enough for?”

  Noah whipped around. “My not wanting to marry has zero to do with Constance!”

  A single raised brow mocked him. “Try telling that to the local bachelors.”

  The door creaked open. Will, his silver-handled cane striking the planks with more force than usual, entered seconds before Daniel, whose chestnut hair was slightly mussed and one suspender twisted at the shoulder. They’d obviously heard.

  Colton mashed his hat on his head. “Think about what I said.”

  Ignoring the other men’s greetings, Colton brushed past them, slamming the door behind him.

  Daniel folded his arms across his chest and looked more irate than Noah could ever recall seeing him. “Please tell me the gossips have it wrong. I know you, Noah. You aren’t this dumb.”

  “Or careless,” Will added.

  He scraped a weary hand over his face. “I can’t.”

 
Will threw up a hand. “You realize how bad this looks, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  Daniel smirked. “Practice those two words, my friend. You’ll be repeating them soon.”

  Noah stared at the pair of them, speechless.

  “He’s right,” Will said. “You have no choice but to marry her.”

  Marry Constance. The part of him that leaped with anticipation, even hope, was overwhelmed by the shadows of his past and the insecurities wrought by his disfigurement.

  “She deserves better than a bitter ex-soldier.”

  “Should’ve thought about that before you kissed her,” Daniel retorted. Then, softening, he put up a hand. “Look, I have full faith that you and Constance will make a great match. She’s a fine woman and caring mother.”

  “And she apparently likes you.”

  She was attracted to him, strangely enough. But as for how she felt about him? That was a mystery. She’d seemed willing to give Colton Bailey a chance. After you rejected her, a voice reminded him.

  His head began to ache behind his temples. “I can’t think about this right now.”

  Striding to the desk, he snatched up the keys.

  “Where are you going?” Will’s brows crashed together.

  “I hope it’s to talk to Constance.”

  “No. Not yet.” When Daniel opened his mouth, he said, “I need time to organize my thoughts before I see her. First, I’m going to have a chat with our friendly newspaper editor.”

  They blocked his exit. “What about?”

  He relayed Hannah’s observations. Since he was so curious, they accompanied him next door. D.B. looked harried when he saw them.

  Sorting papers, he spoke with his gaze on his desk. “Whatever brings you here, gentlemen, it will have to wait.”

  Noah sat on the desk corner, earning him a frown from the older man. Daniel sank into one of two hard-backed chairs and made himself comfortable, his long legs stretched straight and crossed at the ankles. Will meandered about the office, studying articles pasted along the walls.

  “We just have a few questions,” Noah said, studying him closely. “Ever heard of a man named Isaac Burrows?”