by Kristin Holt
“Miss Hadley,” Richard said, speaking for the first time to the women, “we’re surprised. That’s all. As my cousin said, surprised and delighted that you’re so lovely.”
“So,” Lessie said to Richard, “which of us drew the short straw and is assigned to you, Mr. Cannon?”
At this, Adam nearly burst into laughter. Lessie had a sharp sense of humor.
But it was her sister, Josie, whose grin nearly knocked him to his knees.
How would he know which sister is his best match?
He honestly thought he’d just know… he’d look at their two faces and he’d know. Just like Grandfather and Grandmother’s larger-than-life romance story. But that option was off the table.
Because he’d spent the requisite minutes in the company of the young ladies, and unlike Grandfather, he didn’t just know.
To his surprise, Josie raised one eyebrow, held his gaze and spoke. “I’m sorry, sir. My sister doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind.”
Yes, he could see that.
The girls looked alike, but they sure didn’t sound alike. Sure, their voices were very similar, but Josie wasn’t nearly the dominant personality. But her smile…
A man could become very accustomed to a smile that quickened his pulse and warmed his heart.
Their eyes met again, and as if he’d fallen into a long, straight mine shaft, he fell. The sensation of losing great altitude registered in his belly.
Was this what Grandfather had described?
That sense of rightness?
To save himself, to put solid ground beneath his feet, so to speak, Adam blinked, lowered his gaze, and became aware of Josie’s outspoken sister engaging Richard once more. The two were more alike than they knew.
Richard needed a woman who wouldn’t hesitate to speak her mind, to tell him what she thought.
As Josie had disclosed, Lessie made no bones about expressing herself.
“And you?” he asked Josie. “Do you speak your mind?”
“Often.”
That made him smile broadly. What would it be like to elicit strong emotion in this young woman? To see her angry, frustrated, determined? Would passionate conversation with her draw him to her even more?
If Lessie and Richard seemed a match made in heaven, did that imply, by default, that Josie and he were as well?
He couldn’t deny how drawn he was to Josie and her shy smiles. Her soft hello still resonated in his heart. It almost felt like she’d carved her initials there.
In that moment, he knew. He simply knew.
Right or wrong, for worse or for better, his heart had chosen. And he didn’t know why.
Adam took Josie’s hand and the first brush of skin upon skin jolted him with a powerful awareness that underscored his decision.
He slipped her little hand through the bend in his elbow. Claiming her. “I do believe, Miss Josie Anne Hadley, you’re meant to be mine.”
The smile Josie gave him— in reward? In answer?— seared him sharp and fast. Almost as if he’d known this woman, had been courting her, and now asked if she might have an interest in him, might consider the prospects of marriage…
And she’d accepted him.
His statement had felt, to him at least, like a proposal of marriage.
She tightened her hand upon his arm, the only kind of hug proper for her to give him in public, though as far as he was concerned, they were now engaged to be married.
Lessie, on the other hand, said something about having definitely drawn the short straw.
But Richard laughed— and Richard had been laughing so seldom in the previous weeks and months, since the trouble had begun.
It appeared that Lessie was, already, an ideal match for Richard.
“Perhaps you’re correct, Miss Hadley.” Richard said to Lessie as he took her bundle to carry it for her. “Yet it appears I’ve received exactly what I wished for.”
And Adam knew, with a spark of delight, that Josie was his.
Chapter Three
I do believe, Miss Josie Anne Hadley, you’re meant to be mine.
Josie still heard the power of handsome Adam Taylor’s claim on her echoing through her head and her heart.
She hadn’t thought overmuch about how this part would work out, how someone might determine who belonged to who. Her sister had sparred with Richard, something about who drew the short straw. Lessie had obviously enjoyed going toe to toe with Mr. Richard Cannon.
But Josie simply couldn’t believe the more handsome of the two, courtly Mr. Adam Taylor, had chosen her.
That simple pairing off had not been the kind of arrangement where Josie had to take Lessie’s leavings. How had it worked out that Josie felt as though she’d been handed the greatest honor of all… and apparently Lessie did, too?
It seemed not only too good to be true, but overwhelming.
Having never been courted, Mr. Taylor’s undivided attention and the intensity of interest felt more than a bit overwhelming.
How was a woman like her, with zero experience, to manage?
Lessie could easily manage Mr. Taylor… but her sister was either in her element with Mr. Cannon— and perfectly delighted with the challenge he presented— or she’d been stuck with a sour-tempered groom.
Josie didn’t know which.
She hesitated, just for a moment. But Mr. Taylor watched her with his bright blue eyes and offered his arm.
She had heard Lessie already say she’d drawn the short straw, hadn’t she? Didn’t that mean her lot had been cast? That either Richard Cannon had chosen her or she’d chosen him?
Oh, she could demand the conversation cease and insist upon an answer from her three companions. But that seemed impossible. Especially for the likes of her.
No— Lessie was the one who found it easy to say all that lingered on her mind. If Lessie hadn’t wanted to be chosen by Mr. Cannon, she would have said so. Of that Josie was most certain.
So she did what was expected of her and accepted Mr. Taylor’s arm.
Josie’s nervousness only increased as the minutes passed.
Her husband-to-be and his intense gaze seemed to never leave her.
The men offered a meal, but she couldn’t eat, not with her whole body seeming to vibrate. The kind men offered pretty new dresses, and while she would have enjoyed the pleasure immensely, Lessie turned them down.
But by the way Mr. Adam Taylor looked at her, one thing was immensely clear. No new dress would make an ounce of difference.
Her groom looked at a poor girl dressed in rags and didn’t so much as notice. He merely saw her. As if she was a princess. As if they’d courted for years and he’d fallen in love with her and then proposed marriage.
And in her nervousness, it became a day of many firsts.
The first man who looked at her and saw only her.
The first time she’d been chosen.
A first carriage ride.
A first wedding ceremony— and she prayed it would be her last.
A first ring, slipped onto her finger with only the slightest bit of wiggle room.
A first kiss.
A new last name.
A first time witnessing her sister’s marriage.
A first time holding her husband’s hand.
And the startling realization that she may well be, for the first time in her life, falling just a little bit in love.
Josie must have heard wrong.
Granted, she felt as though everything was happening too quickly, like she’d been swept downstream in a current too strong to disengage. The wedding ceremonies and now this ride in the carriage had brought them back to Union Station.
With a tenderness and solicitousness Josie had begun associating with Adam, he’d helped her from the carriage. His fingers still rested on her back in the way she’d seen so any husbands escort their wives.
He’d spoken, in answer to Lessie’s question. “It’s regrettable, dear sister, but my wife and I must depart.”
> Josie’s ears rang, her head buzzed like an overpopulated beehive, and she feared she’d faint.
Depart?
The October sun scorched her through her pale dress, so uncomfortably hot. Surely she had not heard correctly.
Leaving for New Mexico Territory, with her stranger of a husband, while Lessie remained here?
Josie couldn’t understand. Perspiration trickled down her back, and soaked through her shift and drawers.
Lessie fired question after question at the men, but all Josie could do was blink. And swallow. And fight to remain upright.
Hadn’t she just promised to live in holy matrimony with this man, Mr. Taylor? How could she do that if she refused to travel with him?
What solid reason did she have to refuse? Other than her own personal, willful intentions to remain with her sister?
Mr. Cannon, Lessie’s new husband spoke. “This opportunity presented itself just yesterday. The Taylors will be away only a short while.”
Lessie whirled on Adam. “How short a time? How long will you be away?”
“A matter of weeks. I hope to have the family together for the holidays.”
She’d return by Christmas.
Not so long… but it felt like ages.
Or like a prison sentence?
How could she have, just minutes ago, wished she had time alone with this new husband to speak with him, to come to know him as a person? And now her wish was granted in the worst possible of ways.
Josie drew in great draughts of air, darkness teased around the periphery of her vision.
Don’t faint. Don’t faint.
“I will have your word of honor,” Lessie said to Adam, “that you’ll look out for my sister. Josie has never been on her own. You must ensure she is comfortable, safe, protected.”
“I vow I will.” Adam’s deep voice resonated with sincerity, with a promise she knew he’d keep. Reassurance eased her panic, chased the sense of overwhelming dread far away.
Richard, who’d not had much to say, put a hand to Lessie’s back. “You’re right, my dear. We, I hadn’t warned you adequately, and for that I apologize.”
Josie noted the hostility and tension in her sister’s expression ease. She smiled, so sadly, that Josie wanted to weep. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”
Most of her angst and pain was for her sister—
How could she leave her sister now?
Without conscious thought, Josie sought Adam’s face. She still didn’t understand why they were leaving for New Mexico Territory— especially today. She and Lessie had just arrived.
Richard nudged Lessie. “Please, say goodbye to your sister. I promise she is in excellent hands with her husband. You may write daily, send wires almost as often.”
Lessie’s frown faded. “You mean it?”
“I mean it.”
In that moment, Josie knew her sister was in as good a place as she, herself. Lessie would be all right. Richard treated outspoken Lessie with patience… and nothing could have pleased Josie more.
And Josie witnessed much of the same compassion and tenderness in Adam Taylor’s face, in his gentleness as he said, “I’ve prepared for this, my dear. I have stationery and fountain pens in our rail car. I knew you’d want to write your sister, perhaps share with her the interesting sights, your impressions of the desert, perhaps anecdotes of the journey.”
She had no idea the meaning of the unfamiliar word anecdote, but writing letters sounded like one way to ease the pain of separation from her only family member.
Really, did she have a say in the matter at all? Wives did what their husbands directed. She’d known that, weeks ago when she’d made the best choice she’d known how and insisted Lessie respond to Adam Taylor’s advertisement in Groom’s Gazette.
Lessie swept Josie into an embrace, a tight squeeze that brought tears to Josie’s eyes.
“I don’t want to leave you.” Josie’s throat closed with a wash of emotion.
Lessie, ever the more stable of the two, said, “I don’t want you to go.”
“We were supposed to be able to stay together.” Responsibility for this fix fell to her— she’d insisted on answering Mr. Taylor’s advertisement. She’s coaxed, defended, insisted.
And now she and her sister would be far apart. For months. Until now, they’d never been apart overnight. Not once.
Maybe Adam Taylor’s reasons for choosing to take her to New Mexico Territory were as simple as he’d stated— he wanted to make a wedding trip. Maybe he did want to spend time alone with her and come to know her better.
Those were not poor reasons and she couldn’t fault him for not understanding the pain she felt at leaving her sister.
But ultimately, a wife had to go where her husband did. She’d known the rules of the game when she’d insisted on answering his advertisement, if not all of the forthcoming details. And she did believe Adam Taylor and Richard Cannon to be good men. She had to trust— she would trust— that Lessie and she would be well and cared for in their husbands’ care.
With a breaking heart, Josie kissed her sister goodbye. When her husband took her by the elbow and said, “Darling, we really must be going. That was the last call for our train’s departure,” she allowed him to lead her through the station, out a set of doors and onto the platform.
Chapter Four
With few minutes to spare, Adam escorted his bride down the platform toward the rear of the train where the private cars were connected. They hadn’t much time until the train departed. The moment he saw Josie safely on board, his anxiety diminished significantly.
Home.
The private rail car had been in the Cannon family for a decade, and Adam had traveled far too many hours in the coach with Grandfather, his parents, sometimes with his younger sister Lucinda, with Richard— sometimes for business and sometimes for holiday.
But this trip, though both business and pleasure, would be the first of a kind.
He let out a huge sigh, smiled, and kissed her cheek. “Welcome aboard, Darling.”
A quick glance about the space, the soft sounds of movement in the galley told him the crew was on board and preparing their repast as instructed. He had no doubt everything was fully in order, including the trunks he’d brought along for himself and for his bride, in anticipation of her needs.
Every detail always ran smoothly with the staff who manned the rail car.
And right now, his wife needed his attention more than he needed to ensure belongings made it on board.
“Come, my dear, and have a seat. I haven’t rushed like that in a long while.” With his fingers trailing at her back, he walked her to two upholstered and soft chairs on the East side of the train, out of the evening’s direct sunlight.
“May I bring you a cold drink? Chilled lemonade? Milk? Wine?”
“No, no. Thank you.” Tears filled her eyes, and simply witnessing her sadness filled him with regret. She apparently sought a handkerchief in her pocket, her sleeve, and upon not finding one, he quickly pulled his out of his pocket and offered it to her.
She patted her eyes and, in the feminine way only ladies can manage, blew her nose.
He waited, gave her a few minutes to gather herself.
She’d arrived, been married, separated from her sister, and hadn’t eaten— all in the space of a few hours. Her attention flitted from the windows and curtains, paneling and light fixtures, to carpets and the layout of this dining room portion of the rail car, and Adam couldn’t help but recognize that this homey space, so very familiar to him wasn’t to her. In fact everything but the wife was as familiar as the back of his own hand.
“I’m quite at home in this car, Darling. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the—” he’d been about to say insanity at work, but caught himself just in time. “Uh… if it hadn’t been for the demands on our time, Richard and I might have taken this car and made the journey to Massachusetts where we might have met and briefly courted you two there. We could have marri
ed there, among your friends before returning home with you two.”
But then, had it not been for the crises at work and their need to try something drastic, he and Richard likely would not have sent for the women at all.
But now, they were an answer to prayer, a carefully executed business decision, and Adam intended to make his marriage the very best it could be.
Her lovely face registered shock. Her mouth opened in an O. She seemed to gape at the opulence he could see when looking at it through her eyes.
“Josie, what is it? Tell me what the trouble is.”
She shook her head, then seemed to think better of it. “I miss my sister. Already.”
He’d known she would. He nodded.
“Is it just us?” Her melodic, sweet voice sounded so quiet, as if she didn’t want to be overheard. “Are we alone in this car?”
“Other than the stewards, yes. They’re preparing a repast and we can eat soon. If you are hungry, I’ll go find you a piece of fruit.”
“No… no, I—”
Coming to know his wife, to easily read her moods, her expressions, would take time. Patience. “Josie, I want very much to make you comfortable and feel at home. Everything I have is at your disposal. I don’t want you hungry or thirsty or in need in any way.”
Her smile trembled and his heart broke a little. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What can I bring you? What do you need?”
She shook her head in a helpless gesture. “And this car is just too much. I’m… I’m overwhelmed. I thought we’d ride in a passenger car like I did with Lessie. I thought we’d sit side by side, you and I. I thought we’d be surrounded by many other passengers.”
“Those cars are connected, near the locomotive at the front of the train. They’re connected by vestibules.” He considered teasing her, offering to buy her passage on one of those cars if she’d really prefer it but immediately squelched the thought. He wanted her here, with him, where they’d have an opportunity to speak freely and become acquainted. He could offer significantly more comfort here than in the public cars.
