by Diane Darcy
Pure anger drove Rachel down the road to the Gentrys' house.
What had that been about?
Why was he trying to ruin everything?
Why was she still thinking about that kiss?
Did he honestly think he just had to snap his fingers and she’d come running? That he could change his mind and she’d drop everything for him?
He’d had his chance and rejected her. The fact that she’d been tempted just made her angrier.
She drew in a deep, calming breath. She simply needed to remember to treat this like a job.
She entered the Gentrys' home and headed into the kitchen, where she found her hostess. “Mr. Buchanan proposed and I turned him down.”
Mrs. Gentry turned, spoon in hand, a surprised expression on her face. “Why?”
Rachel struggled to find the words. Because she wasn’t sure she was ready to give herself over to a man? Because it scared her? Finally she settled on, “Because he acted like he was doing me a favor.”
Mrs. Gentry snorted. “Well done. Don’t worry. He’ll come to his senses.”
“Yes, don’t give up on that young man too soon.” Reverend Gentry came up behind her. “He’ll make some young lady a wonderful husband, even if he is a bit out of practice with the fairer sex.”
Rachel flushed. “Oh, dear. You overheard.”
“My apologies. I didn’t exactly mean to.”
She’d been a bit loud in her indignation. “It’s just…I’m not sure I’m cut out for marriage.”
“That’s what everyone thinks until they try it. Thomas is intelligent enough. Give him a chance and he’ll do the right thing.”
She nodded. “I’ll just go wash up so I can help with supper.” She just wanted to forget about the whole thing for now.
If she just stayed away from him, they’d both forget all about the unpleasant conversation.
~~~
Hours later, Thomas sat alone in his office, thinking. He was still angry about the whole thing. Feeling misused, too.
Who did Rachel think she was?
He’d tried to eat supper with his mother and daughter but wasn't hungry. He hadn’t added much to the conversation either, but luckily Cassie chattered away, not seeming to need much in the way of response.
All he could think about was Rachel.
Rachel’s lips had been so soft. Her hands warm against his chest. Her smell, feminine and sensual. And that little sound she’d made….
He took a huge breath and let it out slowly.
Dratted woman. Maybe he should be feeling relief. He’d felt guilty about the way he’d treated her when she’d arrived, fully intending to be a bride. Now that he’d proposed, he didn’t have to feel guilty anymore. He could just let it go, let her go, and move on with his life.
The only problem was, he didn’t like her turning him down. He didn’t like it at all.
Was this simply a punch to his ego? Had she hurt his pride? Without conceit, he knew he could marry just about any of the single young ladies in town.
He didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to marry anyone who knew his ex-wife. Who knew the story, or rather the stories she’d told about him before she’d left.
Besides, he was attracted to Rachel.
In a big way.
That kiss…
He shook his head, trying to clear it. He took another deep breath.
Maybe she had the right of it. He didn’t know her. So she connected with his child, and seemed to have easily taken her in hand. So his mother was visibly happier. So his home was peaceful.
That didn’t mean he knew her.
Of course, if he sent for a new bride, a homely one, he wouldn’t know her either. So what was the difference?
He’d rather have Rachel. That was the difference.
His lame brained idea for an unattractive wife wasn't the best he’d ever come up with.
So how did he court the lady?
Maybe he should do something nice for her. He could take her shopping. Women loved that, didn’t they? But even as the plan formed, he knew she wouldn’t allow it.
Still, he didn’t like her dressing so poorly. He’d like to see her in something pretty. Something he’d purchased for her.
Maybe he’d give Mrs. Gentry some money to buy Rachel some clothes. She could buy them and then say they came from the charity box.
Maybe she’d find out, eventually, and be grateful.
And maybe it was time for Miss Rachel West to see him at his most charming. He could woo a lady. Just because he hadn’t in a long while, didn't mean he wasn’t capable.
Anticipation rolled through him.
Decision made, suddenly all seemed right in his world again.
~~~
A few days later, Mrs. Gentry called her down for breakfast.
“Coming!”
Rachel opened the window and urged Sir Lancelot out onto the roof. He didn’t want to go. “Come on, now. They don’t know you’re sleeping in here at night. You can’t stay.”
As if he understood her, which she sometimes thought he did, Sir Lancelot climbed onto the roof, and made his way down a tree. If nothing else, her cat was self-sufficient. He’d had to be.
At breakfast, Mrs. Gentry asked how it was going in the Buchanan household.
“It’s going well. I quite enjoy Cassie. Sometimes the girl has a temper, but for the most part she’s turned into a sweet angel.”
“And Thomas? For the most part?”
Rachel’s mouth curved into a wry grin. “I’m not angry, anymore, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s fine. He works hard from what I can see.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Gentry nodded. “He is a hard worker.” She glanced pointedly at Rachel. “Any woman would be lucky to marry him.”
The reverend shot his wife an amused smile, and after he excused himself, Mrs. Gentry set a stack of neatly folded dresses on the table. “I looked through the goodwill basket and found these. They practically look new and will probably fit you.”
Mortified heat rushed into Rachel’s face. She knew her clothes were shabby but she kept them in good repair. “No, thank you. I’m already accepting your kind charity. I don’t want to take more than that.”
Mrs. Gentry insisted. “My dear, your clothes are positively threadbare. I do hate to hurt your feelings, but these look better than what you’re wearing. What about the church social? Don’t you want something elegant?”
She was so embarrassed she just wanted to run for the door. “When Mr. Buchanan pays me, I’ll take some of the funds and buy material.” She hadn’t planned to, didn’t want to, but it looked like she’d better if Mrs. Gentry was willing to mention her dire situation.
“But these clothes are perfect for you, my dear. And they look to be your size. Someone donated them out of the goodness of their hearts.”
“And when I sit in church, and one of the other ladies notices I’m wearing her castoffs? Or at the church social when I wonder if others might notice and discuss it? How might I feel then? I’m sorry, even I didn’t realize I was carrying around such pride. And you’ve been so kind to me.”
Mrs. Gentry let out a sigh. “Well, actually I did receive some material, as well. Would you consider making yourself something from that?”
“Yes. I would. And gratefully.”
“It’s over at the church. I’ll retrieve it later today and you can see it tonight.”
Rachel was suddenly suspicious. “You’re not going to purchase me material, are you?”
“No, dear. It was donated by an anonymous source.”
Rachel studied her for a long moment. “I can retrieve it if you’d like.”
Mrs. Gentry waved her hand. “No bother. I have to go over there later today, anyway. We’re making coats for some of the less fortunate in town. It’s getting cold, you know.”
“I’d be glad to help with that, if you’ll give me the supplies. I have some free time during the day during which I could sew.
I noticed the Buchanans have a sewing machine, and I’d like to start teaching Cassie how to use it.”
“Truly? I’ll bring home material for that, as well.”
As Rachel walked to the Buchanans’, she still felt embarrassed about Mrs. Gentry noticing her shabby clothing.
Had Thomas noticed?
Did she care?
She did. Back at the factory, her straitened circumstances hadn’t been too bad, because everybody else had been in the same situation. But here, with all the pretty girls flitting around Thomas, still trying to bring casseroles, and chatting with him after church, she had to admit it bothered her.
Maybe she should have accepted his proposal?
Her jaw tightened. For what reason? Money? Security?
She had better options now. She didn’t have to marry anymore. She certainly wasn’t going to marry anyone over a frayed dress.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Thomas found himself pacing in the living room. He looked at the clock. Rachel wasn’t late. He resisted the urge to stick his head out the front door to see if she was coming. Finally there was a knock.
He spun and answered the door, admiring Rachel in the morning light with her bright hair and the slight scattering of freckles across her nose. She was so lovely, she made him ache. He’d come to the right decision where she was concerned. “Come in, come in.” He smiled.
She shot him a wary glance before looking away. “Good morning, Mr. Buchanan.”
“Please. Call me Thomas.”
“All right. If you’ll call me Rachel.”
He felt a small spurt of triumph at the capitulation. A first name basis would make things much more intimate between them.
“After all, I am your employee.”
Or not. “You look lovely today.” He did have to wonder why she wasn’t wearing one of the dresses he’d paid for. Perhaps Mrs. Gentry hadn’t purchased them yet. Still, he was telling the truth. Shabby clothes and all, she did look lovely.
“Thank you.” Her gaze was suspicious. “You’re awfully pleasant this morning.”
Not the reaction he was hoping for. Was he really that bad? “It’s been a good morning so far.”
She nodded.
He wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I hope you slept well last night?”
“Yes I did, thank you.” She tried to move around him.
He blocked her path. “Do you and Cassie have any plans today?”
She took a step back. “She’s struggling a bit with math, so we’ll be working on that after school. Afterward, we’ll have thirty minutes on the piano, and maybe some sewing or embroidery. Her pillowcase is coming along quite nicely.”
“Oh good. That’s good.”
She tried to move around him again, but he blocked her path once more and almost tripped her in the process. He grabbed her to stop her fall, and ended up pulling her close.
She gasped and looked up at him, startled.
Attraction, sharp and explosive, drew the breath from him. That couldn’t have worked out better if he’d planned it. He was close enough to study the freckles on her face, to breath in her enticing vanilla scent. He didn’t think it through, he just reacted, lowered his head, and—
She whipped her hand up and covered his mouth.
Without even thinking about it, he kissed her soft palm.
She shivered. “What are you doing?”
Heat rose along the back of his neck. Apparently, what he was doing, was losing his touch.
She struggled and, reluctantly, he let her go.
“Mr. Buchanan.”
“Thomas.”
“Mr. Buchanan, I’m going to work now. I suggest you do the same.”
He wasn’t just losing his touch, he’d lost it. He suddenly wanted to regret all the years of pushing women away, but if he hadn’t, he’d no doubt be married to someone else by now. And that would be a tragedy.
He admired her figure as she walked up the stairs. She turned the corner to Cassie’s bedroom and moved out of his sight.
He wanted Rachel, and he was going to figure out a way to make her his wife. He’d start with writing to Miss Miller to tell her to cancel the new mail-order bride he’d asked for.
He’d include some money to cover any inconvenience the lady had suffered.
At this point, no one but Rachel would do.
~~~
Rachel reached Cassie’s room, but before she went inside, she leaned against the wall and pressed a hand to her fast beating heart. The very hand she’d pressed against his mouth.
That had been a mistake. She could still feel his lips against her sensitive palm. The feelings that rushed through her at the touch of his mouth were indescribable.
She heard the front door shut, and sagged against the wall.
Drat that man! She wasn't sure how to respond to Thomas acting this way. Thomas being rude and moody was easy to understand. She’d simply thought that was his personality.
Thomas being charming had the potential to devastate her.
If she could cast him as a villain, he’d be easier to resist. When she’d been a governess in New York City, her employer’s son had chased her around and tried to talk her into immoral acts.
This was in no way the same.
Thomas was trying to marry her.
And she was attracted to him.
Did he somehow recognized that she was receptive to him? Had she given herself away?
Well, she knew he was interested in her. She could see it in the heat of his gaze. So no doubt the opposite was true, as well.
Cassie came out of her bedroom. “Miss West? What are you doing?”
Rachel straightened from the wall. “Nothing, sweetie. I was just a bit breathless for a moment, but I was just about to come find you.”
Cassie still looked worried. “Are you sick?”
“Not at all. Come along. Let’s get your hair done and go down to breakfast. Did you make your bed?”
That successfully distracted the girl and she ran in to make the bed.
Rachel went to the other side to help, picking up pillows along the way.
Thomas Buchanan could be a danger to her heart. She needed to stay away from him for a few days so she could remember the many reasons she didn’t want to be his grateful bride.
~~~
Thomas was already at work when Franklin came in.
“I saw your new bride walking your daughter to school today.”
“She’s not my bride, yet.” Thomas’s tone was sour as he set out two new revolvers.
“Yet?” Franklin’s head came up. “I was just teasing. I thought you didn’t want her?”
“I changed my mind.”
Franklin sighed loudly. “I’m not surprised. I would too. I guess that cuts the rest of us out of the running.”
“I guess it does.”
“Does Klein know that?”
“He’ll figure it out.” Thomas set his lunch on one of the bottom shelves next to some ammunition. “What happened to change the situation?”
“I asked her to marry me. In earnest, this time. She turned me down.”
Franklin turned away from placing a gun under the glass counter. “She turned you down?
Thomas scowled. “I just said so, didn’t I?”
“Why?”
Thomas sank down onto his work bench. “I don’t know.”
Franklin walked into the back, hooked the curtain so they could see any customers coming in, and slipped into this own seat. “Most of the girls around here like you well enough, if all of the casseroles are anything to go by. And Miss West came out here to marry you. So why doesn’t she want you anymore?”
Why hadn’t his wife wanted him? He tried to squelch the thought. He knew good and well his wife had hooked a man with money to burn and world travel on the agenda. Thomas shrugged.
“Did you say something wrong? Offend her somehow?”
“I just asked her to marry me. I told her she could have
all the pretty clothes she wanted and she’d have a house to decorate and care for. Babies if she wanted them. All the trappings ladies like.”
Franklin, face pinched in confusion, finally shook his head. “I just don’t understand women.”
“Me neither.”
“Still, she’s beautiful, and seems very lively. Where exactly does one have to go to order one of those?”
“One of what?”
“A Miss West?”
Thomas snorted. “I didn’t actually order one of her, precisely. The fates were trying to curse me.”
“If she’s a curse, then sign me up.”
Thomas thought of the soft skin of her palm pressed to his mouth but a scant hour ago. The way her eyes had flashed indignation. How she’d refused to use his first name. He grinned. “You’ve got that right.”
Chapter Nine
Dear Violet,
I am enclosing this letter in care of Mr. Nathaniel Evans of Minot, North Dakota. I hope it reaches you in a timely manner.
I’m assuming you are happily married by now. Please send details of your wedding, your new life, and your current situation.
You’ll be surprised to learn that I, myself, am unwed. When I arrived here, the groom refused to marry me. Remember Mr. Buchanan’s insistence he wanted an unattractive bride? Well, he meant it. Though honesty forces me to admit he has now proposed in earnest. And in fact, is making quite a nuisance of himself in recent days.
As I already have a job secured now and in the future, I’ve turned him down. I do believe it’s for the best.
I quite like the city of Keene. It’s beautiful here. Like Lawrence, there are many trees. Some of the architecture is amazing! Big brick buildings, stone structures, and lovely houses. The town is well cared for, and the citizens are very nice.
I am staying with The Reverend Gentry and his wife. More generous people you cannot imagine. And the food. To have all I want is like a miracle. I don’t doubt I’ll be plump in no time.
The leaves are turning and are absolutely gorgeous in color, so many hues you can’t believe it. Even on the train ride out it was hard to take my eyes off the scenery. At the moment, I am acting as governess to Mr. Buchanan’s daughter, Cassie. When Mr. Buchanan’s new bride arrives, I will be working at the mercantile in town.
