Though chagrined, she confessed, “I’d be most appreciative.”
He eased her forward, and then his solid torso crowded her for a moment as he leaned with the action of swinging out of the saddle. The whole while, his hands stayed clamped securely about her waist. Once he was on the ground, he slid her off the horse.
Her first impression couldn’t have been more accurate. This close, there could be no denying the fact that Gideon Chance was a brick wall. He towered over her, and her feet hadn’t even touched earth yet. When he set her down, she was anything but steady. Concern colored his voice as he braced her. “I’m going to turn us back to town after you’re done. This isn’t right.”
“Land. Not used to it. The ship…”
“Ahh.” A wealth of understanding and relief filled that single syllable as he drew it out.
When they got under way again, he smoothed the blanket around her, dipped his head, and said in a quiet rumble, “I want you to go ahead and sleep now. No use in sitting here hurting if you can drowse through the pain.”
“You’re most understanding.” She tried to hide her yawn, but from his smile, she knew he’d caught her at it. The way he nestled her a tad closer caused an extraordinary sense of security to wash over her. For weeks, she’d lived in dread of every man aboard the Destiny. Though she’d just met him, she had an innate sense she could trust Gideon Chance. Besides, Hannah said he was a fine man. Miriam let her heavy lids drift shut and left herself in capable, caring arms.
Gideon watched sleep overtake her and let out a sigh of relief. He’d managed to keep her from asking any questions yet. He tried to figure out what to do. Things were going to be a mite sticky for a while.
He’d taken the closest horse when he left the ranch in such a fit. The snappy little paint carried him well, but it was a good thing Hannah’s sister was a tiny woman. Gideon didn’t believe in pushing an animal too hard. If only he could train up his kid brothers as well as he’d tamed Splotch….
His brothers rode up. Bryce showed the good judgment of letting their horses travel at a mere walk, too—in part to keep Logan upright but also out of caution. Still, since Gideon had stopped along the way for Miriam, they’d made up for the time spent hauling her trunks to the livery.
“Whatcha going to do with her?” Bryce asked.
“We’ll see.”
“Didja tell her yet?”
He glanced down to be sure she still slept. “No.”
“Why not?”
Gideon glared at his brother. “Because her head hurts, you dolt.” Bryce could make animals do anything he wanted with a mere look and gesture, but when it came to people, he never quite seemed to comprehend the finer points. Most of the time, it didn’t much matter, but tonight, Gideon had spent his patience.
“I’m sorry, Gideon,” Logan mumbled. The brisk air helped sober him up a bit.
“You’d better be sorry. If I ever catch you going into the Nugget again before you’re a full-grown man, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” He then turned his attention toward his other brother. “And I hold you accountable, Bryce. What were you thinking, taking him in there?”
“Well, I was thinkin’ on how pretty Lulabell—”
“Hush!” Gideon hastily assured himself the woman in his arms hadn’t heard his brother’s confession. Bad enough, she knew they’d been far too liberal with libations. The last thing he needed was an unmarried missionary’s daughter to find out the second-to-the-youngest Chance male foolishly had just tried to visit a house of ill repute.
Hannah would have pitched a hissy fit over Bryce and Logan’s trip to the Nugget. As it was, she’d made her disapproval clear on the rare occasions when the older brothers bent an elbow. They’d all tried to shield her from their forays to the saloon by chewing a few sprigs of mint on the way home to disguise the smell of the single mug of beer they’d indulged in. Inevitably, when their ploy failed, Daniel managed to cajole her into masking her scorn for their sinful indulgence when “thirst got the better of their judgment.”
Only now, Daniel wouldn’t hold any sway with Miriam. No doubt, she’d be every bit as priggish as her sister. Under his breath, Gideon muttered a desperate man’s prayer: “Heaven help me. I’m not up to dealing with all of this.”
He studied her a bit more. Her eyes had been murky green, but he wasn’t certain whether pain caused that. Then again, from the shadows beneath her eyes, it could well be from weariness, too. She’d traveled a long way. Her skin looked fair as could be, and that made no sense since she’d been living in the tropics. When Daniel brought Hannah home, her skin held a bit of sun bronzing. Her hair had been moonlight pale, but this woman’s carried a warm golden cast.
He’d need to get her a new bonnet. The one she’d been wearing got knocked off in the mishap, and the gelding managed to relieve himself on the ugly creation before it could be rescued. To Gideon’s way of thinking, Knothead probably judged the milliner’s nightmare and did that as a declaration of his opinion. Secretly, he counted the ruination of such a homely concoction of straw and flowers no great loss. In fact, Knothead did Miriam a favor by destroying it.
Miriam Hancock looked much like her sister. At best, she could be considered a small dab of a gal—and Hannah’s frailty proved to be problematic. Ranch life had been too harsh for her. Gideon often considered her to be an exotic orchid, but only weeds and wildflowers survived this rugged land. Hannah barely made it past the second birthing in three years and finally succumbed to what an itinerant, self-professed sawbones diagnosed as “the punies.”
When Miriam woke, he was going to have to tell her she’d traveled all of this way in vain. He didn’t relish the notion of breaking the news. As the eldest, the unpleasant responsibility fell on his shoulders.
They rode along in near silence. Gideon got to thinking it was a crying shame Miriam didn’t feel a far sight better. She’d undoubtedly agree with him that nothing on earth could match the sheer beauty of this slice of land. The sky looked close enough to touch, and the light breeze carried a refreshing, brisk pine scent. As she slept, little Miriam missed the crickets’ song, too. He might not be one of those Bible-thumping men, but moments like these let him know God was God, and man owed Him his thanks.
When they reached the ranch, Bryce reined in his gelding and shifted in his saddle. “You gonna wake up Daniel so she can go stay with him?”
Three years ago, when Daniel got back, the brothers were glad to see him, but the surprise of his having a bride—let alone a preacher’s daughter he’d snagged in the islands—set things awry. They’d been without Mama almost a year before Dan originally left, and most of the civilized niceties had fallen by the wayside in the intervening months. Hannah made Daniel a happy man, so his brothers all tried their best to change things to suit her. They even pitched in together and built the newlyweds their own little place so they’d have a bit of privacy.
Gideon cast a glance at the tiny cottage off to the side of the main house. He couldn’t see a flicker of a lamp, so he shook his head. “Daniel’s got the girls to sleep already. Go on in and hang a blanket between my bed and the rest. She can use my bunk tonight.”
Bryce tromped in. Titus came out and raised his brows at the load Gideon nestled on his lap. He shook his head in disbelief, then paced off to the stable. A moment later, he passed by with a fistful of nails and a hammer. Within a few minutes, the sound of their work ceased. Gideon waited outside until they were done. The last thing Miriam needed was to hear a bunch of hammering. Judging from the lump on her head, she’d suffer a beaut of a headache for a few days. Titus came out. “It’s ready. I pulled back your blanket.”
Gideon nodded acknowledgment. He walked across the plank floor and asked, “Where is her valise?”
“Next to the bed,” Paul said. He plopped down on the bench and stared at Miss Hancock as if he’d never seen a woman. Sad truth was, it had been a long while since he’d set eyes on a decent one.
Once
behind the makeshift partition his brothers made by hanging a moth-eaten blanket from the ceiling joist, Gideon laid his feminine burden on the bed. His nose wrinkled. Come morning, she was going to be one very unhappy lady. Logan had managed to roll her over toward the hitching post, and she’d gotten what polite women called “road apple” ground into her gown, petticoats, and stockings. She’d be mortified if she ever found out her skirts had been in a froth clear up to her knees. He made a mental note to threaten his brothers with dire punishment if they ever dared to mention that embarrassing fact.
His lips thinned. There was no way around it. She had to get out of these clothes. Feeling less than gallant, Gideon unbuckled her valise and peered inside. He fished about and found a nightdress. Now he had to get her into it.
His hands started to sweat. It nearly undid him, just handling that oh-so-white, soft-from-a-hundred-washings bed gown. She’d embroidered flowers and tatted a tiny row of lace along the neckline, making the simple piece captivatingly, impossibly feminine. If that wasn’t bad enough, it smelled like sunshine and honeysuckle. He abruptly set the piece on the foot of the bed. He had no business seeing her unmentionables or touching them.
Gideon tried to pet her cheek and coax her to rouse, but she slept on. He whispered a prayer for strength. Bad enough he’d seen and touched her light-as-air nightdress. Worse, now he’d have to help her if she didn’t wake up right quick.
“Come on, Miriam. Open your eyes, just for a few minutes,” he said a bit more forcefully. She gave no response. He decided to take off her shoes. Maybe that would wake her up. After carefully lifting the hem of her truly ugly brown serge dress a scant few inches, he unbuttoned her tiny black leathers from ankle top to instep. With a quick twist and yank, he divested her of the footwear.
Less than eager to glide his hands up her stockinged calves, he took the toe of her left black lisle stocking and pulled. He met with some resistance, so he gingerly pinched both sides of the ankles and tugged. To his infinite relief, the garters yielded and he pulled off the stocking. By the time he got the other stocking off, he felt like he had a fever. Looking at Miss Miriam’s trim, lily-white ankles was enough to make a man loco.
His voice sounded hoarse as he tried once more to summon her from her sleepy world. “Miriam, wake up.”
The woman didn’t even flicker an eyelash.
He couldn’t very well leave her to sleep in her badly soiled day gown. Gideon gritted his teeth against a rush of sensations as he reached out and unfastened the first button at her throat. The dress had twenty-eight tiny mother-of-pearl buttons aligned in disciplined ranks, two by two down the front. He stood there and prayed if he loosened the first pair, Miriam would come awake. Undoing one practically drained him of whatever control he possessed. He certainly couldn’t handle twenty-seven more.
Heaven must have heard him, because he learned in the next instant that only half of those buttons needed to be undone; the other half were decorative companions. He’d just undone the second one and grimaced. She still hadn’t roused. Bad enough, he’d had to loosen her clothes—she’d be utterly scandalized if she awoke to him dragging a wet cloth over her throat to rouse her. Gideon rested his hands on her shoulders, but he didn’t want to shake her or shout. Poor thing didn’t deserve that. He leaned closer and opened his mouth to whisper her name.
Chapter 3
Miriam came awake with a vengeance. A cry burst from her as she catapulted into a sitting position. She windmilled her arms and whacked Gideon in the chest and jaw. For a wee bit of a thing, she sure showed spunk. Titus, Paul, Bryce, and Logan all scrambled over to see what the ruckus was about. When she spied them, Miriam let out a terrified shriek and tried to bolt from the far side of the bed.
Gideon did the most expedient thing. He grabbed the blanket and yanked it shut again, effectively containing and covering her. “Calm down.” He sat down and pulled her back into his lap. “Everything is fine, sweet pea. Don’t bother with them. They’re leaving. You nitwits get on outta here before I knock your heads together.”
“Oh, Lord, have mercy,” she quavered. “Deliver me, I pray.”
Gideon crooked his forefinger and used it to tilt her face up to his. Her eyes were wide with terror. “Hush, Miss Miriam. You don’t have a thing in the world to fret over when it comes to me and the boys. You’ve got my ironclad guarantee on it. When you took your tumble in town, you got some, uh, stuff on your day gown. I tried to wake you a bit, but you’re a sound sleeper.”
She continued to shiver in his arms and stared at him in abject fear. White, even teeth clamped down hard on her lip, and he knew she did it to keep from screaming. Her breaths came in sharp little pants, causing her whole body to jerk.
He slowly smoothed a few errant strands of hair from her brow. “How’s your head feeling?” he asked softly, trying to divert her attention and let her gather her composure.
“Please don’t hurt me. Don’t touch me. Just let me go.” She tacked on for good measure, “It’s a sin.”
“Sweet pea, nobody’s planning to hurt you one bit. I’m sorry you got so spooked, but you don’t have a worry in the world when it comes to that sinning business. I won’t abide any man accosting a woman.” He trailed his fingers down her cold, pale cheek. Brave as could be, she’d not shed any of the tears glistening in her huge eyes. Her skin felt as soft as baby Virginia’s. At the moment, she looked almost as young and innocent as little Ginny, too.
She managed to tear her gaze from his only long enough to hastily scan the room. The instant she refocused on him, she swallowed hard. “Where’s Hannah?”
Gideon bit back a groan. He’d wanted to delay this.
“Saints have mercy,” she whispered in a breathless rush. Eyes huge and swimming, she said, “You’re not really Gideon, are you? If you were, Hannah would be here.”
“Easy now, Miss Miriam. Easy.” His arms tightened a shade. “I’m Gideon. Don’t go letting your imagination lead you into unfounded fears.”
“Then where is my sister?” Even though the volume had to make her head hurt, Miriam raised her shaking voice. “Hannah? Hannah!”
Gideon gently pressed a finger over her lips. “Hannah isn’t coming, Miss Miriam.”
“Why not?”
The whole way home, he’d tried to put together a few mild phrases that would gradually ease her into the sad truth. Maybe not something flowery, but, well…
For all his pondering, he’d concocted a hundred phrases, but none of them seemed right. The time had come, and he still lacked the words.
Gideon’s momentary hesitation was all it took. Miriam went rigid in his arms. One of her hands snaked out from beneath the flap in the blanket and desperately clutched at his shirtfront. “No!”
He sighed and drew her closer. Gliding his palm up and down her back, Gideon confirmed her suspicion. “I’m afraid so, Miss Miriam. Hannah passed on soon after having little Virginia Mae. You must not have gotten Daniel’s letter.”
She burrowed her face in his neck and shook her head. Gideon wasn’t sure whether she shook to deny the death or because she hadn’t gotten the letter. He’d shocked her so deeply, he knew she’d not cry yet. In time, it would all register. For now, the shock protected her a bit. Gideon knew his words would echo and elicit a full reaction later.
Boots scuffled, and Paul appeared. He thrust a glass into Gideon’s hand. It held water, but a telltale sweet odor clung to it. Paul mouthed, “Laudanum,” and his brother gratefully accepted it.
It took some coaxing to get Miriam to drink it. She swallowed the first few sips out of shocked compliance, but when she realized the cup didn’t contain plain water, she tried to refuse more. Gideon used all of his persuasive powers, and finally she finished the rest of the glass. The dull grief on her face was all too familiar. Daniel still wore it much of the time.
She eventually pushed away from him and said in a shaky voice, “I thank you for your honesty. H–Hannah mentioned you and your brothers in the mo
st complimentary way in her missives. Now perhaps you would be so kind as to take me to her grave site.”
“I’ll be willing to take you there, come morning. It’s real late. You need to go to bed.”
“But I came to see Hannah.”
The bewildered, lost look on her face tugged at his heart. “Sweet pea, you’ll have to trust me. I’ll take you to pay your respects tomorrow—first thing in the morning, if you like. Right now, you need to lie down.” He patted her bed gown so she would focus on it. “If I leave you for a few minutes, can you change into this all by yourself?”
She nodded.
He stood and set her on her feet. After assuring himself that she could balance, he slowly let go. “About your clothes, just drop them on the blanket.”
“Very well.”
He moved her nightgown so she could reach it more easily. Even that fleeting contact left his fingertips burning. He cleared his throat. “Soon as you’re changed, climb on into the bed.”
Gideon left her and tried to ignore the sound of rustling clothes and the whisper of petticoats. He and his brothers waited in vain for the muffled crackling sound of her settling on his hay mattress. Finally, he shrugged and drew closer to the blanket curtain. He quietly murmured her name, but she didn’t answer, so he stepped back onto the other side of the makeshift partition.
His heart twisted. Miriam looked like a little angel, dressed in her pure white nightgown. She’d fallen asleep while kneeling to pray. Instead of being confined in the prim bun that had been coming loose all evening, her hair now hung in a loose braid that measured the full length of her spine. Her back bowed from the way her arms winged out onto the mattress, and she rested her cheek on one small, dainty hand.
He tiptoed over and winced at the noise his boots made on the gritty plank floor. Thankfully she didn’t jar awake again. The poor woman couldn’t possibly withstand another shock. Gideon gently scooped her into his arms. For a moment, he held her close.
Other than Mama, he couldn’t remember ever holding a woman just because she needed tenderness. Oh, he cherished his nieces, but they were tiny little scraps—not full-grown women. Miriam’s head rested on his shoulder, and even in her slumber, she let out a tiny whimper.
The Brides of Chance Collection Page 2
