by Nerys Leigh
Anger flashed through her, for a moment eclipsing her fear. “Good husbands don’t throw their wives out into the rain to almost die.”
“Well, good wives don’t marry their husbands while they’re carrying another man’s baby!”
She winced at the volume of his voice, hoping there was no one around to hear. Maybe the lobby wasn’t the best place for this conversation. “All right, come in.”
Pretending to tidy up, she took her valise and placed it into the bottom of the wardrobe, surreptitiously sliding out her folding knife and slipping it into her pocket.
Gabriel had left the door open and she debated whether to close it, eventually deciding to leave it a little ajar.
She had the knife now. She’d be fine.
~ ~ ~
Zach took the stairs two at a time, twirling the butterfly mariposa lily he’d found growing behind the hotel between his fingertips. And smiling. He felt as if he’d been smiling nonstop for the past twenty-four hours. He was surprised his cheeks weren’t aching.
He’d tried telling himself he was being foolish, that Jo was married and, even if she hadn’t been, far too good to ever consider a livery-owner’s son four years her junior with only fifty-two dollars to his name living in a rented house in a tiny town somewhere in the vicinity of nowhere, California. It hadn’t worked. He couldn’t get rid of the smile.
And now he was bringing her a flower. Not a rose, that would have been too obvious. But something to brighten her day that could be explained away as simply a gesture of kindness with no romantic connotations whatsoever, if it came to that. Though he suspected she was way too smart to not realise his intentions.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he heard a voice raised in anger.
“Well, good wives don’t marry their husbands while they’re carrying another man’s child!”
Zach recognised that voice. Gabriel Silversmith.
Hands clenching into fists, he hurried towards Jo’s room.
“All right, come in.”
He slowed at the sound of her voice, calm and unafraid. He reached her room in time to see the door pushed almost shut and came to a halt, suddenly afraid. Why would she invite Silversmith in after what he’d done to her? Not that it was Zach’s business. He should just go back downstairs and wait for him to leave. He was her husband, after all.
But what if Silversmith got angry and tried to hurt her? He’d already thrown her out into the night, was it a leap to consider he might wish her more harm? Zach couldn’t leave her without protection. If she needed him, he had to be there.
Creeping to the door, he peered through the gap. Silversmith was seated in one of the chairs by the fire, staring at his hat clutched in his lap. Zach couldn’t see Jo in his limited field of vision.
At first they were silent, then Silversmith spoke. “How are you?”
Jo replied from somewhere out of sight and Zach guessed she must be sitting on the second chair, on the other side of the fireplace. “I’m getting better.”
Silversmith nodded. “I went out to find you, when the rain started.”
Zach had to stifle a derisive snort. Too little, too late.
“But you’d gone,” Silversmith continued. “I looked a long time.”
Yeah, right. A whole ten minutes, no doubt.
“I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong of me. Not saying you weren’t in the wrong too, but I shouldn’t have made you leave like that.”
So he had thrown her out. Not that Zach had been in any doubt.
“I came into town the next day and went to the marshal’s office. He told me you’d made it here and you were recovering.”
Marshal Cade should have arrested him.
Jo finally spoke. “I almost died out there. I thought I was going to.”
You tell him, Jo.
Silversmith nodded again, fidgeting with the rim of his hat. “Marshal Cade told me you’d been in a bad way. I’m real sorry about that. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt or nothing.”
The derisive snort was getting harder and harder to keep in.
Silversmith cleared his throat. “So I’m glad you’re all right now.”
“What did you tell the marshal about what happened?” Jo said.
He finally looked up. “I said we’d had a misunderstanding and you went out for a walk and got lost. I reckoned you wouldn’t want anyone to know about,” his gaze flicked down for a moment, “you know.”
Zach had no doubt he also didn’t want the marshal to know he’d driven a pregnant woman out into the night.
“Thank you for that.”
Wait, she was thanking him for being a self-serving...
“I’ve been thinking on it a lot in the past day, this whole situation,” Silversmith said, “and I reckon you did what you did for a reason. I ain’t saying I agree with you. You and I had an understanding and, what with lying to me and all, I still think you were in the wrong.” Jo must have been about to speak because he held up a hand to stop her. “I’ve got this all thought through, so I just want to say my piece. So what I’m thinking is, I’m prepared to forgive you for what you did and let you come home.”
What?! He couldn’t be serious.
“We can work out what to do about the baby. It’s gonna be born, I know that, and I’m prepared to provide for it same as I’ll be providing for you. Once we have our own children, the ones that come from me, there’ll be the question of inheritance. Obviously they’ll get more, them being my real offspring and all, but we can work that out when it comes to the time.” He nodded yet again and smiled, as if the matter was all settled. “Would you like any help with packing?”
Zach turned from the door and slumped back against the wall, fingers going to his collar. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Jo wouldn’t go back to Silversmith, would she? She was too intelligent for that. Silversmith had almost got her killed. He shouldn’t be allowed to have a dog, much less a wife. And certainly not the most wonderful, smart, funny, beautiful, charming, fascinating, magnificent woman in the entire world. He didn’t deserve her. Admittedly, it was debatable that Zach did, but at least he would treat her with the respect she deserved.
And she’d realise that.
Wouldn’t she?
His heart rate climbed with each second that ticked by. He wanted to burst in the door and tell her how much better he’d be for her, how he would care for her and her child and make her the happiest woman alive, when all she could expect from Gabriel Silversmith was misery and regret. But all he could do was close his eyes and wait to hear the words that would mean the end of all his dreams, foolish as they were.
“Gabriel,” Jo finally said, “I’m sorry for lying to you, I truly am. It was never my intention to hurt you. I didn’t think I had a choice and I didn’t mean for you to ever find out. But maybe it’s for the best.”
Zach squeezed his eyes shut tighter, holding his breath.
“I thought I could do this,” she went on, “be a wife to someone I didn’t love for the sake of my baby.” She paused. “But I was wrong.”
His eyes snapped open.
“I’m never going to be able to be your wife, and I’m sorry it took what happened for me to realise it. I can’t go back with you. I hope you can understand, and find it in your heart to forgive me.”
Breathing out, he said a silent prayer of thanks. And then his smile returned with a vengeance.
“But... you are my wife.” Silversmith’s voice rose. “You said vows in a church, in front of God and the pastor. We’re legally wed.”
Zach pushed away from the wall and peered through the gap between the door and the frame again. He wished he could see Jo.
“I know,” she said, “but we can have the marriage annulled. I’ll admit to the judge that I’m carrying another man’s child. I checked before I came here and that’s an accepted foundation for an annulment.”
“And what about me?” Silversmith leaned forward, scowling. “I spent near all I had on that train ticket.
I can’t afford another one. How do I get me another wife?”
Jo’s voice was smooth, calming. “I understand how you feel and I know it’s my fault. And... I’ll get you the money somehow. I promise.”
The pause was tiny, but Zach heard it. She wasn’t sure she could get the money. Or perhaps she didn’t intend to try at all. He may have been enamoured with her, but he wasn’t stupid. She’d already lied to Silversmith for weeks. What was one more untruth?
Silversmith pressed his lips together, huffing out a sharp breath as he looked at the floor. Zach watched him carefully. If he decided to get rough, he’d have to get in there quickly.
He’d work out how to explain his eavesdropping afterwards, when Jo was safe.
Silversmith finally raised his eyes. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t have a choice in this, do I?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, sorry won’t pay for that train ticket. I’m going to get me another bride and I want that money soon as I do, or everyone in this town will know just why we ain’t gonna be married anymore.”
Zach frowned, bunching his hands into fists. The oaf didn’t deserve Jo, but he did deserve a punch.
“I said I’ll get you the money and I will,” she replied.
The expression on Silversmith’s face said he didn’t quite believe her. “See that you do. We’ll need to go to Auburn to get the annulment. I have to get back out to my claim today, but I’ll be back Thursday, so we can go Friday.”
He stood and moved towards the door before stopping and looking back. “Was it really so bad, being married to me?”
His uncertain tone might have given Zach some sympathy for him, if circumstances had been very, very different.
Jo finally came into view. She’d changed into one of her own dresses, a blue calico that made her creamy skin glow, and she’d pinned her hair up into a loose style that left wisps of the light brown waves framing her face.
Zach was going to have a hard time keeping his wits around her. She was just about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“No,” she said, “it wasn’t so bad. You provided for me, and lots of men would have thought it their right to force themselves on their wife, but you never did, even when you were frustrated. I’m grateful for that.”
Zach’s grin returned. She hadn’t been intimate with him. Obviously she had been with someone, but for some reason, he was inordinately pleased it hadn’t been Silversmith.
Silversmith didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he nodded and turned for the door.
Suddenly realising he needed a place to hide, Zach looked around. The door to the room across the hallway was open and he darted inside and out of sight.
“I’ll be back Friday,” he heard Silversmith say, then footsteps moving away along the hall.
The door to Jo’s room closed.
Zach sat on the bed to wait. He didn’t want Jo to suspect he’d overheard - okay, eavesdropped on - their conversation.
He was smiling again. After Friday, Jo would no longer be a married woman. She would also, he assumed, be on the lookout for another husband to provide for her and her baby, one she could stand to live with this time. The two of them got along well. He could tell she liked him, maybe not as much as he liked her, but she hadn’t yet known him long enough for him to work the full force of his charm on her. He had a real shot at this.
He’d intended to give it ten minutes before he went to knock on Jo’s door, but he only made it to four. More accurately, three and a half. That was enough to allay suspicion, surely. It felt like a long time.
Her face lit up in a beautiful smile when she opened her door in response to his knock. It stole his breath for a moment. She hadn’t smiled like that once while with Silversmith. Oh yes, Zach definitely had a shot at this.
He glanced down at her dress. “That’s a pretty colour on you.” Truth was, on her, mud would have been pretty.
“Thank you.”
“I brought you something to brighten up your room.” He unfurled his fist and the smile dropped from his face. “Oh.”
She looked at the lily he’d been clutching since he arrived. “It’s beautiful. What happened to the stem?”
The flower itself was fine, but he’d crushed the stem to near oblivion while listening to her conversation with Silversmith.
He smiled and shrugged. “I guess I was holding it too tight. Sorry. I can get you another one.”
She took the lily from his hand, her fingertips brushing against his palm and sending tingles through his skin. “No, I want this one. Just because it isn’t perfect, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth having.”
He hoped she felt the same way about men. Well, him at least.
She took a small decorative vase from the mantel, poured in some water from the jug on the washstand, and set it on the nightstand beside her bed. When the head flopped over she pushed it further into the vase so it could rest on the rim.
She stepped back to admire it. “There, perfect.”
Before he gave in to the almost overwhelming desire to draw her into his arms, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around the room. A piece of paper lay on the deep windowsill, a pencil resting on top, and he moved closer to take a look.
“Did you do this?”
“I did. It’s just a quick sketch though.”
The drawing of the view outside the window looked good to him. Somehow, with just rough pencil strokes, she’d captured the valley and the distant mountains perfectly.
He picked up the sketch to look at it more closely. “This is really good. Do you paint too?”
She moved to stand beside him, her shoulder brushing lightly against his arm. “When I get the chance. I brought some watercolour paints, but I left them at Gabriel’s house. I’ll get some more when I have the money.”
“If you paint as well as you draw, you could sell your pictures.”
She sighed, gazing out the window. “I tried that once, but it didn’t work out. In New York, the kind of people who pay for artwork tend to be more interested in the artist than the art itself. I don’t think I fit their idea of a true artist. They were all snobs anyway.”
“Most folks around here would just like a pretty picture.” An idea came to him. “Maybe you could set up something at the station, for people travelling through. Put your pictures in frames, I bet there’d be lots of people who’d buy them to take wherever they’re going.”
She smiled. “You haven’t even seen my painting yet. I could be terrible.”
He couldn’t see that being the case. “Are you?”
She laughed. “No.”
“There you go then.” He had another idea. “Tell you what, you turn this drawing into a painting and I’ll be your first customer. I need something to brighten up my house.”
She touched his arm, the warmth from her hand seeping through his sleeve into his skin. “I couldn’t charge you, you saved my life.”
“Well, is there something I can do for you in return?” He’d be happy to do anything, but he hoped she’d think of something that involved spending more time with her.
To his disappointment, she lowered her hand while she thought. And then a smile crept onto her face. “I could use a model.”
“A model what?” he said, confused.
“An artist’s model, for my painting. You sit still and I draw you. I don’t get to draw people much. I need the practice.”
Sit still while she stared at him. He could do that. Maybe it would give him a legitimate excuse to stare at her too.
He smiled. Again. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter 14
The following day, Jo was just sitting down to her typically late breakfast when Zach arrived.
He bid her good morning, helped himself to what was left over from the food Mrs. Sanchez had prepared for breakfast in the restaurant, and took a seat opposite her at the table.
She couldn’t help wondering if he usually came to the
hotel this long before his shift. She got her answer when Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez walked into the room.
Mrs. Sanchez did a very bad job of hiding her smile.
Mr. Sanchez looked confused. “Zach, what are you doing...?”
“Raúl,” Mrs. Sanchez interrupted, “would you help me with the potatoes? Él está aquí por ella.”
He looked from Zach to Jo, his confusion turning to a knowing smile. “Claro que sí.”
Jo suppressed the urge to giggle. She didn’t know what the Spanish meant, but there was no doubt it concerned her and Zach, and that Zach being there was indeed unusual. He prodded at his food, looking adorably embarrassed.
After they’d eaten, he took her into the dining room. The restaurant part of the hotel was closed between meals so they had the place to themselves.
“I got you something,” he said, going to an ornate sideboard and opening one of the drawers. He took out a sheaf of paper tied with a blue ribbon and a flat wooden box roughly eight inches long, setting them on a nearby table. “I hope it’s all right. I don’t know much about painting.”
Astonished, she walked up to the table, reaching out to brush her fingertips across the top of the box. She unhooked the clasp and flipped open the lid to reveal a set of watercolour paints and brushes and a small china water bowl.
“You got these for me?”
“Is it what you need? Mr. Lamb at the store said he’d let me change them for something else if it isn’t.”
“No, it’s perfect.” She dragged her eyes from the paints and paper as if they were a mirage that could vanish at any moment. “I can’t pay you for them yet...”
“Oh, I don’t want payment. I figured these would be something for you to start with. How are you going to paint your view of the mountains for me without any paint or paper?”
Searching for her valise had been one of the kindest, most selfless things she could think of, but this went beyond even that. Zach somehow saw what she wanted most and did whatever he could to provide it, without her even having to ask. No one had ever cared for her like that before.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” She walked over to him and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. It was all she could do to stop herself from wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
