Della: Bride of Texas (American Mail-Order Bride 28)

by Trinity Ford

  “I won’t bother you anymore,” Hank said resolutely as he helped Della from the carriage, holding her waist a bit longer than necessary. “I know it’s a confusing time for you and Lord knows you don’t need me making it any harder on you. You have my word I’ll remain a gentleman from here on out.”

  “I appreciate that,” Della lied. “Thank you for a lovely day.” As she stepped up onto the porch, Della turned and watched as Hank rode away. She couldn’t bear the thought of Hank not paying her any attention and being left to wither in a cold relationship with Milton. But she knew it was the right thing for him to do and for her plans to remain intact.

  Chapter 10

  When Monday morning rolled around, Hank couldn’t imagine walking into the General Store and seeing Della there on his usual routine. What’s worse, Beatrice had notified him that the dresses were ready, and he knew if he saw her standing there in one of the dresses he’d had made for her, it might prove to be his breaking point. He knew he was head over heels in love with this woman who came to town to marry another man and it was eating him alive and taking over all his thoughts.

  “Billy,” Hank said, stopping a young boy who was walking by as he unlocked the door to his office. “Head on over to the General Store and tell Roy he’ll need to come to me this week.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a dime and flipped it up in the air and into Billy’s hand.

  “Sure thing, Mr. Hensley!” Billy said, running off down the street.

  Hank busied himself with other work, but he found it hard to concentrate. So much had happened lately. One minute he was happy doing nothing more than flirting with a beautiful newcomer to town—the next, his heart and mind were her captives and for the first time in his life, he couldn’t get a woman out of his mind. His heart was breaking and he had no idea what to do about it.

  That’s what you get for caring, Hank thought, remembering for a brief moment how those he thought he loved in life only ever let him down. But Della was different, and Hank knew it. She hadn’t ever led him on or made him think he had a chance. In fact, she’d been perfectly blunt about wanting anything but him, so he couldn’t really blame her when she made it clear, once again, that he wasn’t in her plans for the future. He’d just have to get past this pain, and he was sure time would heal the heartache—at least he hoped it would.

  “Hank?” Roy asked, opening the door to Hank’s office. “You under the weather?”

  “Nah,” Hank said, motioning for Roy to have a seat. “Just don’t think it’s a good idea to be putting myself in places I don’t need to be.”

  The two men exchanged knowing looks as Roy nodded. “Well, we had another profitable week last week,” he began, giving Hank a rundown of the business. “Got another delivery Tuesday—stocking up for the Chisolm Trail rush. Looks like we’ll triple sales we did last year.”

  “That’s great, Roy,” Hank said. “You’ve done an amazing job running the place.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Roy said, rising from the chair.

  “I know I’ve said it before, Roy,” Hank said, “but I sure am sorry for what I did before.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Roy said.

  “It was wrong,” Hank said, his voice filled with remorse as he remembered what Della had told him about the trouble in the family at the pond. “I could never make up for it.”

  “Look, Hank,” Roy said. “You done right by me and my Mary, and none of that would have happened if it weren’t for that incident, so you and me? We’re square.”

  Hank nodded in acceptance, unable to speak at first due to the emotions about to brim over in his eyes. Clearing his throat, Hank finally spoke up. “How is Mary?” he asked.

  “She’s reading!” Roy laughed. “And Della is teaching her all about sewing. She’s made some beautiful pieces out of some scraps Della got from Beatrice’s store.”

  Hank’s heart ached at the mention of Della. Even staying away from her, he couldn’t escape his feelings. “Well, you tell Mary hello for me,” Hank said. “And let me know if she needs anything else—anything at all.”

  “Will do,” Roy said as he opened the door to leave. “Oh, and Hank? Maybe next time you could stop in the store instead of having me come here. Della…she seems down. I always noticed how her eyes lit up whenever you’d come around. You know, it ain’t none of my business, but…”

  “She has Milton for that,” Hank interrupted before Roy could say anything else.

  “Milton,” Roy laughed. “You and I both know he’s about as pleasant as stepping foot in a pile of manure. I just hate to see a sweet little gal like Della get stuck with that buzzard.” He let the door shut behind him, and Hank returned to his desk.

  He could picture Della standing in the General Store—her big, blue eyes filled with the same sadness Hank had witnessed before when she spoke of being alone in life the first time they met, or when he’d seen Milton humiliate her in the past. But it wasn’t his place. He wouldn’t be going into the General Store that week. He wanted to limit the amount of time he had to see Della. Maybe it would help him get over her sooner.

  …

  Hank stared at the ceiling of room 6A in the Cartwright Hotel, wondering how early it was, and how long he’d been awake. Going home was out of the question these last few nights. All he did was think about Della—about her future with Milton and his of being alone—and it drove him insane with jealousy and sorrow. The sun was up and Hank could hear the bustling of street sounds down below. Church would be starting soon and he’d already missed one service last week—he couldn’t afford to let his sorry soul miss two in a row.

  He knew she’d be there, sitting right by Milton’s side. But it was something Hank would just have to get used to—seeing them together, knowing he couldn’t talk to her, compliment her, or encourage her to be his. She’d made her decision when he’d hinted at the idea of them being together, and now he had to accept it and move on. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to have him acting like a lovesick puppy running after her, and he sure as heck wasn’t going to make a fool of himself in the process—especially in front of that weasel, Milton Tidwell.

  Hank waited until the last minute to enter the church—after the rest of the congregation had filed in and seated themselves. He sat down in the very back row and stared straight ahead, refusing to catch a glimpse of Della and her beau. After the service, he stood up and hurried out the door, trying to leave before anyone caught sight of him.

  “Whoa,” Sheriff Lockhart said, his large hand grabbing him by the neck and bringing him to a halt. “What’s your hurry? Don’t you know there’s a potluck today? You got something against our womens’ cookin?”

  Hank stopped and turned around. He’d completely forgotten about the after service supper. “Must have slipped my mind,” Hank said. “I don’t think I’ll stay for this one.” He hadn’t confided in his friend yet about his feelings for Della. Men just didn’t talk about such things. Besides, he knew what he’d tell him—leave her be, get your act together first—everything he didn’t want to hear, but knew was the truth.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave this early,” Sheriff Lockhart said. “My sister, Josephine’s in town—the one married to the governor—and since he can’t be here, I was hoping you’d escort her at the supper today. I’ve got to help with the young’uns while Millie is serving—and Jo doesn’t know anyone.”

  There was no way Hank could turn down a request from the sheriff. He’d just have to muddle through it and try to avoid contact with Della and Milton as best he could. “Of course,” Hank said, strolling back toward the church steps with the sheriff at his side.

  The sheriff’s wife, Millie, emerged from the church with another woman. Josephine was the female version of her brother—tall and statuesque, dark curls escaping from the fashionable hat she wore and the skin that stretched over her high cheekbones was completely flawless. Her clothes spoke volumes about her life. She was obviously married to a rich man a
nd knew how to impress without seeming overbearing or above others in social status. Hank thought that she must have been an ace-in-the-hole to her husband, the governor, winning the election. Normally, she’d be the kind of woman Hank would strike up a conversation with, and tease, but it was all he could do to offer his hand to her and smile.

  “Josephine,” Sheriff Lockhart said, “This is my best buddy, Hank Hensley—second best shot in all of Fort Worth.” The three walked to the line for the potluck tables where Millie was busy ladling out the food.

  “Well, that’s quite an honor,” Josephine said. “And I’m assuming you’re number one on that list, John?”

  “My sister’s always been impressed by a man who can handle a pistol,” Sheriff Lockhart said. “I think that’s why she married the governor. Although even he doesn’t have the nickname Six Shooter like my friend Hank, here. He carries two pistols—one for each hand—and his aim is just as good with one as it is the other.”

  Josephine raised her eyebrows in amazement. “Looks like I chose the right person to dine with today,” she said as they all stood in line waiting to be served. “Did John tell you about why I’m here?”

  “No ma’am, he didn’t,” Hank said, wishing the line would move so he could eat and excuse himself from the potluck.

  “I haven’t seen him in a week!” Sheriff Lockhart laughed. “I think he’s been hiding out, trying to avoid paying his fines.”

  The group took their heavily laden plates and found a table to sit at. Millie had her hands full with the twins running around the table as she tried to help out and the sheriff excused himself and went to help her with them. Hank looked up spotted Della, standing in line behind Milton, Roy and Mary. Their eyes met and he looked away quickly, not wanting the glance to linger between them.

  “So tell me about why you’re here,” Hank turned his attention to Josephine, hoping to get his mind off Della.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the rash of stagecoach and train robberies happening here in the state,” Josephine said.

  “Yep,” Hank said. “Just had a couple held up here a day or two ago on their way into town. Took off with their jewelry and cash. They’re lucky they weren’t violent like some of the ones I’ve heard about.”

  “Yes,” Josephine said. “The violence, in addition to the theft, has gotten out of control. My husband, Governor Winscott, is offering $250 bounties for criminals caught participating in this kind of activity. We’re recruiting some of the best bounty hunters in the state.”

  Hank was listening, but only half tuned in to what Josephine was saying. He was too busy watching Milton and Della out of the corner of his eye, apparently involved in a disagreement. Milton kept pointing toward Hank’s table and Della was shaking her head, “No.”

  Sheriff Lockhart had just returned after corralling the kids and joined the conversation. “Hank?” he asked, catching Hank’s attention. “You in?”

  “In what?” Hank said, confused because his thoughts were bogged down in what was happening with Della.

  “What Josephine just told you about—in on the bounty hunt,” the sheriff laughed. “A group of us are heading out tomorrow to do a round up. Mostly my Texas Ranger buddies, but you’re welcome to come. Seems like you could use a break from this place.” Lockhart nodded toward Della and Milton.

  Hank didn’t answer. He watched as Della and Milton walked over to his table. He braced himself for an argument about how he’d flirted with Della, or bought her those dresses.

  “Hello, Hank,” Della said sheepishly. “I noticed you have a guest with you and we wanted to come introduce ourselves.”

  “This is Josephine,” Hank said, unsure why he was making the introduction for the sheriff’s sister. “Josephine, this is Della and her fiancé, Milton.”

  Hank cringed at the words fiancé and Milton. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t look into Della’s eyes, and then betrayed himself. Those Bluebonnet-colored eyes were hard to resist. Her demeanor was cool and resigned, but he could see in her eyes the hurt she harbored beneath. She studied Josephine carefully. It seemed to Hank as if she didn’t want to be anywhere near their table, but Milton looked eager.

  Hank noticed Milton nudge Della’s arm. “Josephine,” Della said in a tired voice. “Are you new to town?”

  “I’d be happy to handle your banking needs,” Milton interrupted. Of course, Hank thought. I should have known he was begging for business-and now he’s using Della to do his dirty work.

  “Heavens, no,” Josephine said. “I live in Austin with my husband, Governor Winscott.”

  Hank saw an instant wave of relief wash over Della’s face as the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile. Until then, he hadn’t realized Della would assume Josephine was with him. Della turned and met his gaze and for a moment, they were the only two at the table, lost in each other’s eyes—a gentle smile exchanged between them.

  “Well, it’s nice meeting you,” Milton said abruptly, obviously realizing there was nothing in this introduction that he could capitalize on. He grabbed Della by the hand and pulled her with him as she glanced back at Hank one last time.

  She isn’t happy, Hank thought. But what does it matter? Her eyes had always shown she cared about him, but that had never convinced her to stray from her plans before. Hank was furious—at himself for developing these feelings and at Della for not believing in herself enough to get free of Milton. “Sheriff?” Hank said suddenly, “I think you’re right—I do need a break from this place. Count me in for the bounty hunt. When do we leave?”

  Chapter 11

  Della found herself in a rotten mood lately. Her once cheerful outlook on life, even rippled with all of her what if thoughts, had spiraled down into a black cloud hanging over her from the moment she awoke in the morning until she finally fell into a fitful sleep at night. It seemed that the more she tried to reach Milton’s heart and form a bond with him, the more aware she became of how little he did to reciprocate her efforts. Della was very aware of the fact that she had been outspoken when it came to her sister, Charlotte and her husband, Charles—but when it came to Milton, and the plans that were already on shaky ground, Della just couldn’t muster up the nerve to risk the future she’d so carefully planned.

  It made her feel like quite a charlatan, acting one way with some people and another way with others. Why, she was no better than Hank Hensley—someone who also had two sides to his personality. It’s just that, all the other bonds she’d formed with people she loved or befriended had fallen to the wayside before. Her parents moving off…Charlotte marrying and moving away…her dear friend Chevonne leaving for her newfound life—if she ended her engagement to Milton, it would be yet another failure on her part to set down roots and build a stable future. And who knew what Pastor Littlejohn would say about the debacle. After all, they had taken a chance on her, and she had committed to marrying Milton. She couldn’t go back on her word now.

  “Hank should be stopping by shortly,” Roy said to Della as they both restocked the shelves from the earlier delivery.

  Della turned quickly to face Roy. “I thought he had you meeting him at his office from now on?” she asked.

  “Today’s different,” Roy said. “He’s picking up supplies for that run with the sheriff.”

  “What run?” Della asked, confused.

  “Governor Winscott’s asking a few able-bodied sharp shooters to head up a bounty hunt to put an end to the hold ups,” Roy said. “Yep…looks like he’ll be needing lots of ammunition.”

  Roy glanced up to see how Della was reacting to the news. She knew he was baiting her into feeling sorry for Hank. Why must Hank put himself in bad situations like this? she thought. That man couldn’t settle down to save his life!

  She refused to discuss it anymore. Della went back to stocking shelves, but the whole time, thoughts of Hank in a shootout haunted her. What if he gets killed? she thought, her heart racing. What if something else bad happens to him out o
n the trail? She was angry at Hank for putting her through this, for making her worry and wonder about his well-being, even though she knew she shouldn’t care.

  The bell rang as Hank walked through the door of the General Store. Della had her back facing him, and she didn’t turn around to greet him. She didn’t want to see or acknowledge that he was preparing for a foolish mission. Why, he should leave the bandit catching to official law enforcement!

  “Howdy, Roy,” Hank said, obviously choosing to ignore Della as well.

  “Hank,” Roy said. “Got yourself ready for this man hunt?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Hank said. “Just need a change of scenery. Might as well do it while ridding the town of scum. Plus, that bounty of $250 a head will come in handy, too.”

  Della rolled her eyes and sighed a little too loudly. Is that all that man ever thinks about…showing off his money? It disgusted her to know he’d put his life on the line for a cash prize. She huffed about the store, putting the heavy cans of molasses down onto the shelf a little too hard as she listened to the men carry on their conversation.

  “Well, you be careful out there,” Roy warned. “Never know who happens to be a better shot than you, even though we both know you’re better’n anyone around with a six shooter.” Roy laughed as he teased Hank about their past.

  “Will do,” Hank said, gathering up his purchase and walking towards the door. He paused for a moment, when Della thought he should be exiting the store. She wanted to turn around and see what he was doing, but she wouldn’t let herself. Finally, she heard him open the door and let it shut behind him.

  …

  That evening, Della sat in the parlor with Mary, teaching her another sewing technique. Mary was a fast learner and used her hands better than most people who had vision. Now, she was learning to hem and Della was amazed at the tiny, even stitches that she produced. Roy had dozed off in his chair while reading, as he did almost every night. Helen had gone to bed early, as usual, thankfully leaving the rest of the family alone in peace and without the usual complaints and criticism she most often directed at Mary and Roy.