His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  The entire situation was deplorable but she had little choice but to see her rash decision through. Which brought her back to Ellie and the men scattered around the room who still snickered at her as if she were the punch line of some joke no one bothered to tell her.

  Ellie was heavy set, her graying hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. She had a kind face, wrinkled from laughter and age, and Grace remembered her manners and excused herself without spouting off a biting remark at the woman’s behavior. She turned on her heel and made her way back to the wooden sidewalk outside.

  Grace tried her best to look calm but she was failing. Her stomach was in knots as every horrible possibility her friends had told her about screamed through her head in quick succession.

  The thought of Jesse Samuels misrepresenting himself was now a reality. The reaction Ellie and the men inside the station had, had to mean something. Was her bridegroom a scoundrel instead of a rancher as he’d said? Was he lacking in some way that caused the prospect of marrying him to be so amusing to the townspeople? Was he was a drunkard or worse? A man so ugly the thoughts of giving her body to him would turn her stomach despite his fortune?

  Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. She knew the possibility of marrying a man who wasn’t at all pleasing to the eye was possible but at the time, she felt she had little choice. It was either marry sight-unseen or marry the man she suspected of stealing her father’s fortune. A chill raced up her spine at the thought. She’d marry the lowest man in all of Montana before giving that foul beast the satisfaction of having her and her father’s money.

  She could have changed her mind a number of times during her journey but she hadn’t. She’d sold every possession she owned to pay off her father’s debts and have enough to travel across the country. Now, she had no choice but to stay. She didn’t have the money for a return trip home, and besides, what waited for her there left her feeling desperate.

  But would her new bridegroom be just as unwelcome a sight as her old life in Boston?

  She walked over to her things, grabbing her skirts before sitting down on top of her trunk, and propped her chin on her hand before sighing. She stared out across the dusty road, watched the townsfolk go about their business and prayed she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Long minutes of waiting turned into an hour. Grace tapped a heel on the wooden sidewalk and huffed out another breath. A cool breeze sent wisps of dust flurrying across the sidewalk as another wagon rolled over the rutted road. She straightened her back and peered at the driver. He lifted his hat in greeting but kept going just as every other man who passed by did.

  She was about to give up hope when she spotted a smaller wagon ambling into town that seemed to be heading in her direction. A man and young boy were both looking at her as they neared the stagecoach station, and she lifted a hand to shield her face from the sun to see them. Surely this wasn’t her bridegroom. The wagon was no more than a broken down wooden box with wheels.

  When they stopped in front of the station, the man sat staring at her for long minutes before looking to the boy who was doing the same. Neither seemed inclined to move. She stood, stretching the kinks out of her back, and said, “Hello.”

  The man mumbled something to the boy before he shook his head and jumped to the ground. When he approached her, Grace felt her pulse jump and her lungs seized until she found it hard to breathe.

  He was handsome and tall, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders in waves. The brown hat on his head left much of his face in shadow but she could see his eyes were green, in a shade so pale she was mesmerized just looking at them. A light dusting of whiskers was growing in on his chin.

  When he stopped in front of her, Grace hoped this was the man she’d been waiting on. He fit the physical description she’d received from Jesse in the letter he sent with his request, and he was more handsome than she’d hoped he would be.

  “You Grace?” he asked, repositioning his hat.

  Grace nodded her head, her heart thumping in her chest. It was him. This was the man she was to marry. The joy she felt was overwhelming. She smiled when she realized the prospect of being stuck in this tiny town didn’t seem like such a burden now. Jesse Samuels was everything she’d hoped to find. A man who was strong, handsome… and who had all his teeth. He wasn’t fat nor ugly. He didn’t have the look of a drunk and his eyes didn’t hold that predatory glint she’s seen in so many of the men she’d known in her life. He didn’t look like a wealthy rancher but she supposed he wouldn’t if he worked his land instead of just hiring others to do it for him.

  When he did nothing more than stare at her in return, she looked away. The boy had climbed down from the wagon and was staring at her. His face was bright red, as was his hair, and Grace gave him a smile. His blush deepened before he looked away.

  She managed to snap out of her stupor and returned her gaze to the man in front of her. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

  “It’s a long trip into town and that old mule can only go so fast.” His gaze moved from her face to her breasts to her hips before coming back up. Grace would have been offended if it hadn’t caused such a delicious tingle to run laps up and down her spine. She averted her gaze, watching the boy as he kicked at the sidewalk with the toe of his boot. He was young, long legged, and thin. He’d yet to put on any muscle she could see. He favored her new bridegroom in facial features but that was about it. Their coloring was completely different.

  She smiled again, pleased her trip hadn’t turned out to be a total mistake and settled her gaze back on those soft green eyes of the man standing before her. “Will we marry now or at some later date? Is there a preacher in town?”

  He grinned at her before turning to the boy. “You want to go hunt down that preacher?”

  Ellie chose that moment to stick her head out the door of the stagecoach station. She gave a chuckle in Grace’s direction before saying, “The preacher ain’t here.” Nearly everyone in the stagecoach station was hovering in the doorway of the building. Ellie was smiling, amusement flashing in her eyes. “He left yesterday morning.”

  “Are you sure?” the youth by the wagon asked.

  Ellie laughed before nodding her head. “Afraid so.” She glanced at them all before looking toward Grace’s bridegroom. “Afternoon, Rafe. I hear there’s to be a wedding.”

  “Seems so.”

  Grace turned. She stared up at her bridegroom, the man she knew just spoke, but he didn’t answer to the name Jesse. “You prefer to be called Rafe?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Yep. It’s the name my Ma gave me. Everyone uses it.”

  The snickers started again. Grace took a step to the side so she could see everyone at once and her fatigue started to take its toll. She was getting irritated as well and her confusion was growing. “All right. I’ll call you Rafe as well.” She smiled at him before asking, “How long will we have to wait to be wed?”

  “A while I suppose. The Preacher doesn’t get around to these parts but every few months.” Rafe repositioned his hat again, glancing over his shoulder to the boy. “But don’t worry. Jesse will do right by you. He sent for a bride and he’s determined to have one.”

  Now Grace was confused. She looked at Rafe, then Ellie and the men standing in the station, before turning to look at the wagon. The redhead boy was still standing there blushing and Grace felt as if she was being pulled in endless circles. Ellie chuckled one last time before ushering the men back into the building and leaving her alone with Rafe and the boy. “It’s been an extremely long day,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m a bit confused.”

  “About what?”

  “Well, everything.” Grace sighed. “Are you Jesse Samuels?”

  “No. I’m Rafe Samuels. Jesse’s brother.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “Oh! Well, that explains my confusion.” She laughed, trying to mask her disappointment. “I thought you were my bridegroom.”

  Rafe smiled, th
ose fine white teeth of his gleaming. His gaze traveled the length of her again, stopping to linger on her breasts for long moments before meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry to say I’m not. There’s your groom.” He turned and pointed toward the wagon.

  The redheaded boy was still there, looking at anything but her. It took Grace only moments for Rafe’s words to sink in. Jesse Samuels was there. He just wasn’t who she thought he was. “That’s Jesse?”

  “Yep.”

  Looking up at Rafe, Grace could see amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew she’d mistaken him for Jesse and he was enjoying her stupidity. And stupid is how she felt. Not only had she agreed to marry sight-unseen, but she’d somehow promised herself to a child. A boy who was too embarrassed to even look her in the eye.

  Chapter Three

  “He’s just a boy.” Grace felt her chest tighten before her heart started thumping wildly. No wonder everyone inside the station had laughed at her. Jesse Samuels was a child and no one bothered to inform her. They said nothing. Just stood there laughing at her while she made a fool of herself.

  Grace glared at those she could see. They had the decency to blush and look away before snickering. She turned back to Jesse. The real Jesse. He was still staring at his feet, his hands shoved into his pockets. The hat on his head shielded his entire face but embarrassment tinted his ears pink.

  She sighed, her shoulders dropping before she shook her head. How had this happened? Grace lifted her hand, laying it to her forehead and tried to think. What did she do now? “How old is he?”

  Rafe cleared his throat and shifted his weight to one leg. “He’s fourteen.”

  Her eyes widened. “Fourteen?”

  “Almost fifteen,” Jesse said, managing to look up then. He still didn’t look her in the eye but he wasn’t a mute as she’d begun to think. He stepped up on the sidewalk and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Well, in nine months I will be.”

  “Fourteen?” Grace mumbled the number under her breath before her knees gave out and she sat down hard on top of her trunk. She’d traveled across the entire country to marry the man painted so eloquently in the pages of his letter and here she sat, staring up at a child not even old enough to shave the whiskers from his chin.

  When she woke this morning her first thought had been of him, Jesse, the sweet, shy man she’d come to know through the letter he’d sent. He owned his own ranch, he’d said, with a herd of steer so large he lost count of them most days. He worked hard, had a grand two-story home on five hundred acres of prime Montana soil. But he was lonely. He wanted a wife. Someone to share all his fortune with.

  And she’d been gullible enough to fall for every single word.

  She realized now how foolish she’d been. Her father often accused her of making rash decisions. He was right, of course, and this mistake had cost her everything. Every dime she owned.

  Looking up at Rafe, the man she first thought she would marry, she noticed he fit the description Jesse had painted of himself in his letter. But he’d lied. Lied and led her to believe he was someone he wasn’t. Why would he do such a thing? She’d been truthful with him. She’d held nothing back from her history. She’d told him of her parents being gone and how she had sell every possession she owned to pay her father’s creditors.

  Rafe cleared his throat, drawing Grace from her musings. “It’s a long way to the house. If we want to make it before dark we’d best get a move on.”

  The house? Grace stared at him for long moments before what he said registered. Home. He wanted to go home. With her? She stood and looked between him and Jesse. They were both staring at her. When she said nothing, or made any attempt to move, Rafe said, “Grab her things, Jesse.”

  She gaped at him before turning toward Jesse again. He crossed the sidewalk and grabbed one of her trunks, lifting it with a grunt before staggering with it to the back of the wagon. She stared at him for long moments. He wore a smug look on his face… until he looked at Rafe. Him, he glared at before crossing the sidewalk to grab her other things.

  This can’t be happening, she thought as she watched him. He didn’t seem to mind that she was older than he was. Or that the age difference even mattered. Or the fact he lied to her and had now been found out. He loaded her trunks and bags as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Jesse?” When he stopped to look at her, she felt her chest tighten again. She was going to disappoint him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you.”

  Rafe inhaled a deep breath before looking down the road. Grace watched him, his silence telling her he wasn’t going to say a word. He was participating in this farce of a marriage arrangement, or so it seemed.

  She turned back to Jesse. “I appreciate your offer of marriage but I’m afraid there’s been a terrible mistake.”

  Jesse’s eyes narrowed, his brows drawing together. “There’s no mistake. I ordered a bride. They sent me you.”

  She stared at him and knew things would get worse before all was said and done. “Yes, but you weren’t truthful with me.”

  His lips were bloodless as he pinched them together into a defiant little line. “Everything I said was the truth. I didn’t tell you how old I was, that was all. I’ve my own house, just like I said. We’ve a herd of cattle so you won’t starve and I can support you as good as any man here can.”

  She looked at him and raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Your appearance isn’t as you described.”

  He blushed again and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, most people don’t like redheads so I fibbed about that but the rest is true.”

  Grace sighed. “But you’re only a child, Jesse. How can you expect me to marry you?”

  The tension Grace felt then was palpable. Jesse turned and glared at Rafe. Rafe glared back. Something was happening between the two and she wasn’t privy to the information.

  Jesse’s body went stiff, his ears now matching the redness of his face and hair when he shifted his attention back to her. “I’m not a child. I can provide for a wife. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now.” He turned and stalked toward the wagon, leaning against the side of it and crossing his arms over his chest.

  Grace sighed and turned to look at Rafe. “Can you help me, please.”

  The man did nothing but shrug his shoulder. Laughter danced in his eyes when he looked at her but the moment he turned toward Jesse, the look softened. Regardless of his actions, or lack of, Grace could tell Rafe knew how touchy the situation was and he didn’t want to sway her decision. She felt better knowing he at least shared in her dilemma but that still left her wondering what she was to do now.

  She exhaled a long breath. This was all wrong. Everything was falling apart. She couldn’t marry a young boy regardless of how much he claimed she could. She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

  Looking over at him again, seeing how young he was, she said, “You do realize I’m much older than you are, don’t you?

  “So?”

  “So, when you’re my age, I’ll be near forty. Will you want a wife so old then?”

  Jesse looked as if he was thinking about it but shrugged his shoulders moments later. “Don’t matter none to me. A wife is a wife. Age is just a number, anyway.”

  “I see.” She chewed her bottom lip, trying to think of anything that would dissuade him. She smiled when an idea hit her. “What does your mother think of all this? Is she going to be all right with sharing her home with your wife?”

  “Ain’t got no ma. She died years ago.”

  Grace felt deflated then. So much for that tactic. This wasn’t going to be easy any way she went. A glance at Rafe showed him still staring off down the road. She was at a loss as to what to do or say to convince Jesse she couldn’t marry him and the only person who could help her do that was ignoring her.

  The month she’d spent traveling by train and stagecoach across the country had fatigued her more than she thought. She was bone weary, hungry, and she’d worn her traveling dre
ss for so many days, she was sure she smelled as rank as that horse stable beside of the station. This situation only added to her stress.

  She’d left everything, and everyone, familiar to her behind, determined nothing would stop her from marrying a man of her choice, even if she only picked him from a catalogue, just to spite her friends. Now, she was stranded in a dusty little town, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the clothes stored in her trunks and a few coins rattling in the bottom of her bag.

  A crisp wind blew and even through all the layers she was wearing, Grace shivered. Winter was coming. Even if she had the funds to go back to Boston, she’d be stranded somewhere between here and there. The snows would come and then what would she do?

  She glanced back over at Jesse. If she didn’t marry him, or someone in Willow Creek, where would she go? How would she survive? She had no money. Nowhere to live.

  Rafe glance her way, a spark of amusement in his eyes. Grace gritted her teeth. The man was enjoying this. He had no intention of helping her, that much was obvious. Her reaction to the situation couldn’t have been a surprise, so why did he even come to town?

  The laughter dancing in his green irises said it all. He was waiting. He probably expected her to pitch some sort of fit, to stomp and cry at the injustice of it all. Well, she’d show him!

  Besides, she had no other choice.

  Turning to face Jesse, she smiled at him before straightening her spine and speaking loud enough for Rafe to hear every word. “Well, we don’t have to discuss this out on the street. The preacher isn’t in town yet so we’ll have to wait regardless. Why don’t you show me your home and we can discuss it there?”

  Rafe made a choking sound and Grace looked back over her shoulder at him. Amusement wasn’t twinkling in those green eyes now. Shock and disbelief were. She smiled at him before walking to the edge of the sidewalk to where the wagon sat. “Would you help me up please, Jesse?”