Love is Blind (Cutter's Creek Book 8)

by Kit Morgan

  “Anyways,” Mrs. White continued, “I think ya better listen to what Mr. Judrow has to say ‘bout him. Is there … anythin’ ya wanna tell me?”

  “About my brother?”

  “Who else?”

  Emma sighed again. “What’s there to tell? If I see him, all he’ll do is marry me off to someone just to get me out of his hair. By being here, I’m already doing that.”

  “Then why’d he send someone all this way to find ya?”

  Emma hung her head and said nothing.

  “Ya realize yer the only family he’s got?”

  “Immediate family. We have other relations.”

  “Yeah, so I heard. Sounds like he’s livin’ with one.”

  “He is? Who?”

  “That’s somethin’ fer ya to ask Mr. Judrow. Ya can ask him at supper – it’ll be ready in an hour.” Mrs. White got up and left the room.

  Emma sat and stared after her. “The only thing I want to ask Mr. Judrow,” she muttered, “is when is he leaving?” And the sooner he was gone, the better.

  8

  Emma sat at the supper table and tried not to glare at the thorn in her side sitting across from her. He dipped his biscuits into his stew and ate with relish. Had the man not had lunch? Or was he celebrating a supposed victory, thinking he could whisk her away to her brother? Well, she’d like to see him try.

  Blast! She’d spent the half-hour before supper fantasizing about going with him, but that was out of the question. Yet every time she snuck a peek at him, her belly warmed and her face flushed. What an adventure – and with what a guide! But at the end of it was Jack, and losing her life to whoever he chose …

  She sighed and reached for a biscuit.

  “Something the matter?” he asked in that wonderful gravelly voice of his.

  Her toes curled so tight her ankle started to throb. “Nothing!” she squeaked. She gulped some water before she could make a bigger fool of herself. Setting the glass down, she wiped a hand across her mouth. Very unladylike – in fact, almost primal. She had to get a hold of herself!

  Mrs. White studied her, then Mr. Judrow. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He locked eyes with Emma. “Or so she says.”

  “Taloa?” Mrs. White said, half of her face smiling.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Ya ain’t actin’ fine,” Henry commented. “Yer actin’ funny.”

  “I am not.” Emma straightened in her chair with what little dignity she had left. It was a good thing none of them could see her feet – it was all she could do not to start tapping them. But of course, her ankle wouldn’t allow that …

  “How are you feeling this evening?”

  Emma suddenly noticed Mr. Judrow was still staring at her, and swallowed hard. “I said I was fine.”

  “Good. I’d like to speak with you after supper.”

  She audibly gulped. “About wh-what?” Good grief, he was rendering her speechless! Why did he have her so discombobulated?

  “Speaking of after supper,” Preacher Dan interjected, “what’s for dessert?”

  Mr. Judrow broke eye contact with her and turned to Mrs. White. Thank heavens the man had a sweet tooth! At least she knew she could distract him if she ever needed to.

  “Oscar?” Mrs. White nodded in his direction.

  “Cherry turnovers,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  “I like turnovers,” Henry said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, we know,” Anson said with a frown. “Don’t go eatin’ all of ‘em like last time.”

  “Taloa ate some too,” Henry protested.

  All eyes fixed on her. “Oh yes. I’d quite forgotten about that …”

  Mr. Judrow’s grin was devilish. “So you fancy turnovers, do you?”

  “I might have … a taste for them,” she stammered. Good grief, could she look any weaker? But the way his mouth curved up and the stubble on his chin and … and … oh, why fight it? The man made her mouth water like no turnover ever had.

  “They’re one of my favorites too,” he said. “My ma used to make the best apple turnovers you ever tasted.” He turned to Oscar. “I’m looking forward to trying yours.”

  Oscar smiled. “Ya won’t be disappointed, if I do say so myself.”

  Mr. Judrow positively beamed. Emma almost sighed at the sight of him looking so boyish. Maybe if she stabbed herself with a fork, she’d be able to get a grip.

  “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Mrs. White?” Preacher Dan asked.

  For some reason, Mr. Judrow’s grin died at his words. He turned his head to look at Mrs. White at the head of the table with a look of … warning?

  “I’ll save it fer dessert and coffee. In fact, we’ll talk after Mr. Judrow here speaks with, er … Taloa.” She looked at Emma with a slight smirk.

  What was that about? Did she know something? Of course she did – she knew what Mr. Judrow was going to talk to her about. But why would that stall her from talking with Preacher Dan?

  Emma tried not to fidget through the rest of the meal, but it was hard. By the time Mrs. White went into the kitchen to fetch the coffee, she was seriously thinking of hobbling out to the privy. At least she’d escape Mr. Judrow’s penetrating stare!

  “Are you ready?” He stood up from the table.

  “Ready?”

  “To speak with me?”

  Emma glanced around the table. “Can’t you say whatever it is here?”

  “I’m thinking you might not like that.”

  Her eyes went wide and she gulped again. This didn’t bode well. She already knew what he was here for – her only hope was that Mrs. White and her sons would take her side. But maybe they would side with Mr. Judrow – or already had.

  He walked around the table to where she sat. “Allow me to escort you to the porch. We can have dessert there.”

  “Escort,” in this case, meant he’d have to carry her out. Oscar had helped her come down to supper and she didn’t mind. But to have this man’s arms wrap around her to transport her to a chair on the porch … my my. She could feel the heat of his hands searing her flesh already. “Oh blast,” she said under her breath as her traitorous heart beat faster.

  “What was that?” he said.

  Her eyes met his. “Nothing.”

  He smiled his crooked smile, the one that could melt her into a puddle. “Then allow me …” He pulled her chair out, bent at the waist and scooped her into his arms. “To the porch.”

  Preacher Dan laughed. “I can’t tell you how much the two of you remind me of Logan Kincaid and his Susara! What a pair they were!”

  “Sure were!” Henry added with a chuckle.

  Anson rolled his eyes and got up to clear the dishes away, then stopped and stared at the couple. “Well? Ain’t you gonna take her outside?”

  Mr. Judrow gave her his wicked grin, telling her she was trapped and there was no way out. “Sure enough am, Anson.” He carried her out the front door.

  Once outside he gently set her in a chair, pulled up another and sat. Emma fought the urge to fidget and instead forced herself to glare once more. “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  Her glare fell away, turning to astonishment.

  “You know I aim to take you back with me, just as soon as that ankle is healed.”

  She sucked in a breath. Part of her was ready to scream “YES!” Or “NO!” Good heavens, she’d never survive being alone on the trail with him. He was too handsome, too wild, too masculine. She’d be guaranteed to do something stupid like flirt, and then spend the rest of the journey being mortified, before – and this was the worst part – having to face her brother. “I have no desire to see my brother again,” she declared.

  “He desires to see you. Too bad he can’t.”

  She stared at him, her head cocked to one side. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Miss Carlson, your brother Jack is blind.”

  Her face fell and she almost trie
d to stand out of habit, but her ankle stopped her. “What?” she whispered.

  “You heard me. A near-miss in the last week of the war. Gunpowder got in his eyes.”

  She tried to speak but couldn’t, her moving mouth emitting only silence.

  “I know it’s a shocking piece of news, but it’s true,” he said, his voice gentle. “He doesn’t want you to come back to take care of him, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s got a wife for that – a mighty fine woman, too. You’ll like her.”

  “W-wi-wife?”

  “Willow’s her name. She loves your brother something fierce.”

  Emma gasped in shock. “She does?”

  Mr. Judrow shook his head and sighed. “Just how long has it been since you saw your brother last?”

  “I … well …” Good heavens, how long had it been? “He volunteered in ’62, so … four years?”

  “That’s a long time, Miss Carlson. A lot can happen to a man like your brother in four years. And did.”

  “You don’t know him like I do.”

  “And you don’t know him like I do. True, I haven’t spent most of my life with the man, but the way his wife and kin look at him and treat him tells me a lot. I don’t have to spend years with him to know how well-respected and loved he is. And not just by his kinfolk, but the folks in Cutter’s Creek as well.”

  “Cutter’s Creek? Where is that?”

  “Montana territory.”

  “Montana!”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s living with his cousin, Howard Latsch.”

  Emma sat in shock. Jack was in the Montana territory of all places? Cousin Howard she could see, he was a preacher after all and had always wanted to go out west. But why did Jack choose to live with Howard? “The town likes him?”

  “They sure do. You should’ve seen how many turned out for his wedding.”

  Emma wanted to slide out of her chair. “You’re kidding?”

  He shook his head. “Afraid not.”

  She sat back in her chair and fanned herself with a hand.

  “Feeling faint?”

  “No.” But she had to do something, anything, since she couldn’t very well get up and bolt. If what he said was true, then shouldn’t she at least consider …?

  “Mrs. White did point out a problem, however.”

  She slowly looked at him, only then realizing she’d turned away. “What sort of problem?”

  “Protecting your reputation.”

  She stopped fanning herself and gripped the arm of the chair. “What? What about my reputation?”

  He rubbed his jaw with a hand and drew in a deep breath. “That you won’t have one by the time we reach Cutter’s Creek. Or, no longer a good one …”

  Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. Merciful heavens, had Mrs. White read her thoughts? She hadn’t been talking in her sleep, had she? She sank a little lower in her chair, thoroughly scandalized. “Oh?”

  “She and I discussed it. Believe me when I say your brother truly wants the best for you, but there’s not much chance of getting it if we’ve been alone together on the trail for almost three weeks.”

  It took a few seconds for her to see where he was going with this. “Oh. My. Heavens,” she gasped.

  “Indeed. But Mrs. White has come up with a potential solution.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. The only “solutions” to that situation were to either not go at all, or to … no. No, no, no. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t!

  Preacher Dan stepped outside and rubbed his hands together. “Well, are you two ready?”

  He most certainly would … “Ready … for what?” she croaked. There was still a slight chance she could be wrong.

  “To get married, of course!” Preacher Dan declared happily.

  So much for being wrong …

  Lucius braced for the verbal explosion he was sure would come, complete with theatrics – she seemed the type. So far, she’d proved stubborn and emotional enough to do anything.

  She sat, her mouth open like a bird waiting to be fed. Finally she shook herself and snapped it shut. “I … what … you …” She turned to Preacher Dan, only to gape at him too. “You can’t be serious!”

  “He mose certainly is.” Mrs. White stepped onto the porch. “And so am I.”

  Miss Carlson’s head swung from one face to the next. “But … marriage?! Couldn’t you find another way to …” She stiffened. “Wait – who says I’m going?”

  And there it was. Lucius gritted his teeth.

  “Ain’t ya?” Mrs. White narrowed her good eye at her. “Ya know it’s the best thing to do fer all concerned.”

  “All concerned? Who is all?” Miss Carlson snapped.

  “Yer brother, so he can see fer himself yer alright,” Mrs. White said. “Well, not see, but ya know what I mean. Ya can work things out with him, since he sounds like a changed man. So can Mr. Judrow here.”

  “Mr. Judrow?” Miss Carlson said in surprise.

  “So he can get paid,” Mrs. White said matter-of-factly.

  “Ah, yes.” Miss Carlson glanced at Lucius. “So you’ve agreed to marry me so you can get paid?”

  Lucius closed his eyes and sighed. “No.”

  “Really? Why else would you agree to this?” she shot back.

  “Because I refuse to see your or your brother’s reputations harmed.”

  She sat and stared at him. Good. Maybe she was done talking, at least long enough that he and Preacher Dan could explain the rest.

  Mrs. White did it for them. “It’s in name only. Ya can get it annulled later.”

  “Isn’t that just as scandalous?” Miss Carlson asked. “After all, who’s to say my ‘husband’ didn’t have his way with me during the journey?”

  “You could always get an examination to prove otherwise,” Lucius suggested, then cleared his throat.

  “Mr. Judrow!” Miss Carlson huffed.

  “You asked the question,” Lucius pointed out.

  “Don’t sound so shocked, girl,” Mrs. White put in. “The three of us have had to think this through, and we feel it’s the best course o’action fer everyone concerned.”

  “Except me. You conveniently left me out of your discussions!”

  “In case you haven’t noticed,” Lucius said, “we’re discussing it with you now.” He tried to muster up more patience. Was the girl so bullheaded that she couldn’t see they were trying to protect her?

  She sat silent again, thinking. Who knew what would come out of that mouth of hers the next time she spoke?

  “An annulment – you’re sure?” she asked Preacher Dan.

  “I’m not keen on it, but yes, you could. Personally, I find Mr. Judrow a pleasant sort. I think he’d make a fine husband.”

  Lucius arched an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, perhaps you should marry him,” Miss Carlson grumbled.

  The eyebrow went down, along with his eyelids.

  “Won’t you consider it, Miss Carlson?” Preacher Dan asked. “You don’t have to … well, consummate the marriage. Unless of course you want to remain his bride …”

  That was the wrong thing to say – Miss Carlson’s face went crimson. “You three have gone completely around the bend!”

  “No, we came up with a solution to yer problem – yer problem and yer brother’s,” Mrs. White said. “Maybe if Mr. Judrow was takin’ ya to Chicago or San Francisco or some big city, thing’s might be different. But ya cain’t hide yer travelin’ alone with a man for the amount o’time ya’ll be an’ expect a small town not to talk. Everyone’ll know.”

  “Everyone already does,” Lucius pointed out. Of course, he was just as guilty as Jack Carlson for not thinking about the return trip. He was so used to bringing men to justice, he gave no thought to what it would mean to take a woman back to family. Finding her had been all that had occupied their minds.

  “So … you’re telling me that the only chance I have of marrying is to … get married,” Miss Carlson asked, attempting to clarify.


  “Yes,” everyone said at once.

  She jumped at their quick response. “Oh dear …”

  “Ya alright?” Mrs. White asked. “Ya look a li’l pale all o’sudden.”

  Miss Carlson shot her a sardonic look. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Mrs. White sighed in resignation. “I understand if ya don’t like the idea …”

  “Don’t like it?” Miss Carlson huffed. “I hate it!”

  “But you do want to see your brother again, don’t you?” Preacher Dan asked with a gentle smile.

  Lucius watched her face soften. Aha – she did!

  “Well, things between us haven’t always been peaches and cream,” she admitted. “But he’s blind …”

  “And changed,” Lucius quickly added.

  “So you say.” She hung her head, sighed and looked at him. “It will be in name only?”

  “Yeah, child,” Mrs. White said softly. Then sternly, “Ain’t that right, Mr. Judrow?”

  He straightened. “Absolutely.”

  Miss Carlson narrowed her eyes at him. “It had better be,” she said. She fought her way to a standing position. “Very well, then.”

  “I knew ya’d see reason!” Mrs. White gave Miss Carlson a hug. She looked as if she was about to do the same to him, but stopped. “Mr. Judrow, ya alright?”

  His eyes darted between the two women. “Dandy.”

  “It’s just fer a few weeks or so, ya know,” Mrs. White told him. “’Less ya can get to Cutter’s Creek faster’n that.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said.

  “Good,” said Preacher Dan as he rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s have a wedding! Oh, Mrs. White?”

  “Yeah, Preacha Dan?”

  “Is the coffee on?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Perfect! Nothing like a wedding followed by pastry and coffee!”

  Lucius let out the breath he’d been holding. Good grief, why was he nervous? He’d even temporarily forgotten the promise of cherry turnovers. He certainly hoped this would work for everyone’s sake, especially his. Blind or not, Jack Carlson still might try to shoot him when he brought back his sister as his wife. But what else could he do? Marrying her was the only way to get her back – of that he was sure. Once she said “I do,” she couldn’t wiggle her way out of it – she’d have to go with him.