His mind drifted back to the moment during the ceremony when he’d had to kiss Faith. He hadn’t expected that, but when the justice had said it, he realized he would have to comply.
He didn’t need anything getting back to the town officials or those against him that would cause them to suspect that his marriage was a farce. Nothing could get in the way of his intentions.
Something stirred inside him as he remembered how soft Faith’s lips had been and how she’d stood there so rigidly as if she was terrified. Of him? He sure hoped that wasn’t the case, even though he had acted like a jerk and run out right after.
Jax made a mental note to try and act more civilized. Though he and Faith would never have a close relationship, the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him. He’d be no better than Cleb Masters if he acted in a way that caused her to be fearful.
But the only reason he’d run out was because of the stab of pain in his heart when he’d bent down and kissed her. It was as if the wall he’d carefully built around it was chipping and falling away.
He couldn’t let that happen. He would not soil Mary’s memory. He’d done what he had to do to achieve the ends that Mary would have wanted. That was the only reason he’d married.
Yet something told him that he would have to stay far away from his new bride, because he had no intention of opening his heart to any woman, not even one as beautiful as Faith Bailey Blackburn.
Chapter 7
The library’s honey-colored walls glowed in a wash of sunlight that spilled in from the south facing windows. The room was beautifully furnished, with comfortable furniture and a jewel toned oriental rug. A cobalt blue wing chair sat beside a huge stone fireplace, just begging Faith to curl up in it with a good book. But she couldn’t do that. She had more important matters to attend to.
She walked tentatively into the room, though she wasn’t sure why she hesitated. She was Mrs. Blackburn now and had every right to be in there. Yet, she knew her visit was not innocent and she didn’t want anyone to question her motives, especially not Maisie. She was growing quite fond of the old woman despite her efforts to remain detached.
Maisie had fed her well after the wedding. The woman fluttered around Faith and apologized for her boss's rude behavior unnecessarily—the cook wasn’t responsible for the way Jax acted. The flapjacks had been just what Faith had needed after the tumultuous morning. They were light and fluffy and served with a boysenberry syrup, the sweet earthy flavor of which still clung to her taste buds.
She’d taken her time eating. She wanted to wait a bit before heading into the library to make sure Jax wouldn’t be returning any time soon. After a few hours passed, she figured he was on a bender, just like Charles. When Charles got on a tear, he could be gone well into the night and she assumed Jax would follow the same trend.
A rock settled in the pit of Faith’s stomach. It was odd that he would rush out after the ceremony straight to the saloon like that. She wondered why the mere act of marrying her had caused such a reaction. He’d sent for a mail order bride, so surely he would have known a marriage would happen.
Did it have something to do with her personally? She didn’t think so. There was something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Oddly enough, the man had almost seemed afraid. But of what? There was more to Jax Blackburn than met the eye, but Faith had neither the time nor the inclination to try to figure him out.
The smell of leather and old paper drifted out of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, reminding Faith of her task. There were so many books! Where to start? Faith always favored doing things systematically, so she figured it was best to start at one end and work her way across the room.
Hiding things in books was something she was well familiar with. The memory of a childhood game with her sisters—especially the one who was next oldest to her, Mercy—hiding notes, flowers and leaves inside the pages of their favorite books as secret messages to each other made her smile. Life had been so simple then. Happy. Too bad she had to grow up and find out how awful life could really be.
Thoughts of Lefty Brewster passed through her mind. Her fists clenched. She hadn’t gotten the happily ever after she’d wanted, but she was not going to let Lefty Brewster steal that from her sisters.
She started on the east wall, walking along slowly, looking from top to bottom at the spines of the books. Brown, red, green—some leather, some canvas some with gold-stamped titles, others in plain black ink. Would he hide the map in an expensive-looking book or a cheap one? Her top front teeth worried her bottom lip as she studied each title.
It was a meditative endeavor and she became engrossed in it as she watched the volumes pass by. She pulled out anything that caught her interest, rifling through the pages carefully but thoroughly. By the time she got to the end of the wall, she still hadn’t come up with any map, but she hadn’t expected to hit pay dirt right away.
In the corner, next to the fireplace, she came across a book that was completely different. It was well-worn, its torn binding protected with a handmade fabric cover. This was the type of book someone would use to hide something.
She tipped the book out of its place slowly, her index finger lightly pulling the top of the pages toward her, careful not to damage the already fragile binding which was frayed at the top of the spine. It looked to be a well-read and loved book. Was Jax a reader?
It was a heavy book. She balanced the weight of it in her palm and gently flipped open the cover. Poetry. The pages were as thin as a dragonfly’s wings. She was reluctant to turn them for fear they would disintegrate. But she had to see if there was a map hidden inside.
Slowly, she reached out her thumb to fan the pages.
“What are you doing with that book?”
Faith jumped at the unexpected voice. She whirled around, snapping the book shut. Not two feet behind her stood Jax, his face a mask of … despair? Anger? She would have expected anger, just the way Charles had been when he’d come home from the bar, but Jax’s expression looked more pained than angry. Probably an effect of the whiskey she assumed he had consumed.
“I was just looking for something to read.” Faith’s heart hammered in her chest. Jax took a step closer. She backed up, the bookcase behind her halting her escape.
Her heart leapt into her throat as Jax reached a hand out toward her. She cringed and screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the slap that she knew would come.
But no slap came. She opened her eyes to see Jax frowning at her with a perplexed look. His fingers were on the book which he was tugging out of her hand.
“Not this book,” he said and she recoiled instinctively from the smell of whiskey that she knew would be on his breath … except Jax’s breath didn’t smell like whiskey. It smelled like … Faith leaned slight toward him and sniffed. Lemons?
How curious. And even more curious was that he wasn’t acting drunk. She knew full well how drunks acted. Swaying and slurring. But Jax was doing none of that.
A prickle of awareness flowed through her. He was standing very close and she had nowhere to go. Her stomach flipped at the nearness of him and she saw something change deep in his caramel eyes. Then his eyes snapped down to the book that he now clutched to his chest.
Faith’s eyes also snapped to the book. She knew she had found what she was looking for. The map must be in the book. Otherwise, why would he be protecting it like that?
“There you are, Mr. Jax!” Maisie appeared in the doorway, scowling at Jax. “What were you thinking, dragging this lovely lady off to be married with no wedding dress or ceremony?”
Jax appeared to shrink back from Maisie’s accusing glare. Faith had to admit the woman did look formidable standing there with her hands on her hips. Her heart warmed—at least someone here was on her side.
“Faith doesn’t have any family or know anyone here. There was no one to invite,” Jax explained.
“Now, you know that ain’t right.” Maisie wagged her finger in Jax’s face. “I t
hink your mama raised you better than that. It’s proper to have some people over to introduce your new bride. How else she gonna’ meet people in this town?”
“Tomorrow night at the Easthams’ party I’ll introduce her around.”
Maisie’s brows flew up to her hairline. “Tomorrow night? How do you expect me to get her ready by then?”
“Ready?” Jax looked genuinely perplexed.
Maisie let out a sigh and shook her head, then turned her attention to Faith. “Men! They don’t know what it takes for a lady to get ready for a party. Does your gown need alterations? I can do them for you.”
Faith cringed. She was already nervous enough about meeting people in the town and now she had to worry about what she would look like? “I don’t actually have a gown. All I have is this dress and the one I wore yesterday. Am I expected to wear something fancier?”
Maisie whirled on Jax, flapping her arms up and down. “Just what are you thinkin’? Your wife traveled all the way out here for you and you can’t even outfit her properly? You expect her to go to the Easthams’ party in a plain day dress? You know I can’t sew that fast to make her somethin'.”
Jax put his hands on Maisie’s shoulders. “Now come on Maisie, you’ll have to make do. I know you’ll think of something. You’re a whiz with the sewing needle and I’ve seen that trove of ladies’ fancy laces and whatnots you have stashed away. If anyone can turn Faith’s dress into a gown, it’s you.” Jax bent down and placed a kiss on top of Maisie’s head, then slid his eyes over to Faith. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”
And with that, he strode out of the room.
Faith had watched the exchange between Jax and Maisie with amusement. His demeanor with the older woman had been kind, almost loving. She was clearly more than just a cook to him. This was an interesting side of him Faith had not expected.
Maisie watched Jax leave with her hands on her hips then turned to Faith. “Make do,” she muttered. “We’ll see about that. I got some grosgrain and lace edging in my room.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest and leaned back, her eyes drifting down Faith’s dress from bodice hemline. She clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and then nodded. “I can come up with something suitable.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble,” Faith said. She truly didn’t want to be fussed over. She wasn’t used to it and it brought up feelings of contentment and belonging that she wished would stay buried.
Maisie waved her hand. “Nonsense! Mr. Jax should have more sense than this. He should outfit you proper. I don’t know what’s come over him since you got here. I’ve been tending to him since he was a little boy and I can tell you he’s acting right strange.” Maisie glanced out the door and then shook her head. She slung an arm around Faith’s shoulders and propelled her toward the hallway. “Now you come on down to your room and we’ll see what we can do with that dress.”
Faith let Maisie lead her out of the room, but she wasn’t interested in how Maisie’s sewing skills could transform her dress. She cared little about what she would wear to the Easthams’ party. What was in the forefront of her mind was what Jax was going to do with that book he still had clutched to his chest when he exited the library.
Chapter 8
Jax rode in to town on his horse, Indigo. The horse was named for his color, a black so deep that it looked almost blue. Indigo was more than a horse, he was a good sounding board. Jax often mulled over his troubles out loud when riding the horse. It helped him think things through. Indigo was better than any human for that because he never argued or talked back.
He had wanted to leave Maisie and Faith to their sewing as he didn’t know anything about women’s clothing. But he also had something to check up on in town. Something he’d worked for in secret for so long was almost about to become a reality and he wanted to make sure nothing got in his way.
He rode leisurely on Indigo, following the trail that ran along Goldwater Creek, listening to the water rush across the rocks and smelling the fresh mountain air. In the distance, the mountains in layers of various shades of hazy blue made for a breathtaking backdrop. He took his time not so much to whittle away the day as to unburden himself to the loyal equine.
Jax's thoughts drifted back to Faith in the library. He had to admit, he’d acted badly when he’d seen her with that book. Mary’s book. Perhaps he had been a little too forceful in taking it from her, but he hadn’t been himself. His heart squeezed remembering the way she had recoiled from him.
Had she thought he would strike her?
The thought of striking a woman was so foreign to Jax that he’d never considered his action of taking the book might be misconstrued that way.
“I should have just asked for the book instead of grabbing it. Judging by the look on her face, I’m no better a man than Cleb Masters. “
As if understanding his words, Indigo snorted.
“But it’s just that I had such happy memories of Mary curled up with that book sitting in the wing chair…” Jax’s voice trailed off. Memories of he and Mary cuddled up next to the fire together while she read the poems out loud twisted the hole in his heart. He bent over and rubbed Indigo’s soft neck. The motion soothed him and he continued. “When the binding got worn, she sewed that cover on it with her own hands. When I saw Faith with it … well, I guess I felt like no one else should read that book. And if the cover got any more ripped or worn, the book might disintegrate and it would be almost as if Mary would be disintegrating right before my very eyes.”
Indigo flicked his tail and whinnied.
“Yes. I understand, it wasn’t right. But when I saw her with it, for a split second I thought it was Mary and I lost my mind.”
Indigo turned his sleek black head back to look at Jax as if to tell him he was being ridiculous. It was just a book … and maybe it was time to stop seeing Mary everywhere. Time to start healing. “Right. I’ll put the book back when I return to the ranch.”
Jax hitched Indigo to a post in the middle of the main street. He didn’t want anyone to see the horse and guess his real destination. The street was fairly empty and he strolled down the sidewalk leisurely as if he was just out for a walk. Puffs of dirt pushed up from between the boards that made up the sidewalk as his boots thudded hollowly on the dry wood.
He strode past the assayers, tipping his hat at Myran Goldberg bent over the table inside. Then past the apothecary, glancing in at the glass jars full of dried herbs. Next to the apothecary was a woman’s finery shop. In the window, something caught his eye. The most exquisite dress he’d ever seen.
Maisie’s words echoed in his head. She had a point. It wouldn’t do for one of the richest men in town to have his bride show up in an old tattered day dress. And maybe in a small way, buying this for Faith would make up for the way he'd treated her at their wedding and in the library.
Before he knew what had happened, he was standing inside the shop. The dresses, feathered hats and other finery made him feel like a bull in a china shop. A curtain parted and Beulah Bridges came out from the back, her sharp black eyes narrowing when she saw Jax standing there.
“Mr. Blackburn, can I help you?” Beulah's tone was laced with suspicion as she studied Jax, likely wondering what he wanted with a dress. She had never approved of him and rightly so. He hadn't been much of a gentleman in his younger days. Jax had changed, but Beulah's opinion obviously had not.
Jax tilted his head toward the window. “That dress. Is it for sale?”
“Yeees.” Beulah drew out the word. She looked from the dress to Jax. “It's one of the latest styles. I made it to show the ladies a style I might make for them.” She walked over to the dress, her face softening as she took the material in her fingers. Despite Beulah's harsh personality, she had a passion for beautiful clothing and was a skilled seamstress. Women traveled far distances to buy from her shop and have dresses custom made. She held the fabric out to him. “It's made from the finest silk.”
Jax reache
d out to touch the fabric. It was soft, exactly like he imagined Faith’s hair would feel if he ran it through his fingers. Where did that thought come from? He jerked his hand away as if the dress was on fire.
“Is something wrong?” Beulah frowned at him.
“No, sorry. It's very soft.” Now that he was closer, he could see the dress was more beautiful than it had looked from outside the store. The color was a gorgeous shade of ivory, shot through with gold on the sleeves and gold embroidery on the skirt. The delicate bodice was rimmed in snow white lace.
It was classy and delicate, like Faith herself. Jax could imagine her in it. The shade would complement her alabaster skin and highlight the flush in her cheeks and the blue of her eyes.
“I’ll take it.”
Beulah's brows rose up in surprise. “It needs to be fitted to the lady. I assume it's for your new wife?”
Jax’s brow furrowed. Fitted? He knew little of the ways of women’s clothing, but if some alterations needed to be made he was sure Maisie could do it. “Yes. But it’s for the Easthams’ party. I’d like to have it sent home right away.”
Beulah looked skeptical. She stood back from the dress, her eyes flitting up and down, her hands measuring. In addition to being an excellent seamstress, Beulah was a shrewd businesswoman. She was no fool. If she had a customer willing to buy, she'd do anything she could to close the sale. She closed her eyes and tapped her finger on her lips for a few seconds, then opened them again and looked at Jax. “I caught a glimpse of your wife this morning. I think the dress is a good size for her, but the waist … her waist is very tiny.” Beulah mimed an hourglass shape with her hands. “It would need to be taken in, and the bust—well she may need it to be let out.”
Faith (Goldwater Creek Mail-Order Brides 1) Page 4
