His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  Rafe wasn’t sure about the “lady” part but having to face a judge and present Jesse as a “child” would irritate the kid more than usual. They had enough problems as it was. “No. I’ll just take them home.”

  Rafe walked outside and waited on Grace and Jesse to be let go. He noticed the wagon still sitting in front of the mercantile loaded with goods and when the sound of voices reached him he turned, staring at Jesse and Grace. They both looked a sight. Bruised, dirty and guilty as sin. “Jesse, ride the horse back. I’ll take the wagon.” He didn’t have to tell Grace to follow him, she was on his heels the second he started walking.

  “It wasn’t our fault, Rafe.”

  He ignored her until they reached the wagon. Then, he turned, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her none too gently onto the wagon seat. She sat without a word. He was glad for it. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to her at the moment.

  Jesse was clearing town and a good ways up the road by the time Rafe got the wagon turned around and headed in the direction of home. People on the street were still staring and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind they’d be the talk of the town for the next month if for no other reason than they all had proof Grace was staying with them.

  The speculation of that alone would feed the gossips for weeks. They’d make up all kinds of wild accusations about her and after the fight with Ben, he’d have a damn hard time getting them to believe all the rumors weren’t true. He wasn’t even sure why he cared. If he were smart, he’d take what little savings they had, buy her the next stagecoach ticket out of Willow Creek, and send her off without blinking an eye.

  The very thought of it made his chest ache. For the first time in months he woke not dreading the day. Knowing he’d see her smile at him was enough to make getting out of bed worth while and damn his soul if he didn’t enjoy looking at her.

  He just wished trouble didn’t follow in her wake.

  He wasn’t sure when, but he knew it was coming. When Jesse realized she wouldn’t be marrying him, all hell would break loose. The people in town would gossip about her until they fabricated tales that would make her name a legend in these parts and the fight with Ben would only fuel those rumors. What Ben would do beyond this point was up for grabs too. They’d had enough problems with the man as it was. This compounded their troubles.

  Rafe’s blood surged through his veins just thinking about it. Thinking of Ben daring to lay a hand on his brother. To say something rude enough to make Grace slap him for it.

  The whole situation was nerve wracking and he clenched his jaw to keep from yelling. Grace shifted in the seat beside him and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her knuckle was bleeding, scratches gleaming like small beacons on the back of her hand and the sight angered him like nothing had in months.

  Starting a fight with Ben had been stupid on her part, especially with all the trouble the man was causing them but one thing remained unchanged. Idiotic behavior or not, Grace Kingston was a problem he’d didn’t mind having.

  The setting sun turned the sky into streaked shards of purple and indigo. It would have been beautiful had Grace’s mood not been so black. Rafe sat beside her all the way out of town with his back stiff, his eyes on the horizon, and his jaw clenching every other minute.

  Mad wasn’t how she would describe him. From the looks of him, he was furious. What about exactly, she wasn’t sure.

  She cleared her throat, smoothed her wrinkled skirt and repeated, “It wasn’t our fault, Rafe.”

  He didn’t even blink. Grace stared at his profile, taking in the small laugh lines around his eyes. A days worth of stubble lined his jaw and even smelling like a horse barn, seeing him standing outside her cell at the jail house, she’d wanted to weep.

  The entire ordeal had been vexing. Violence wasn’t something she was used to seeing, or being involved with, and Rafe showing up had seemed like a godsend at the time. Now, seeing the mood he was in, she wasn’t so sure.

  “It was his fault, Ben’s I mean. He really is a foul man.” Still Rafe said nothing. Grace frowned. “And Jesse was just defending me, is all. You shouldn’t hold him responsible.”

  When Rafe sat there staring at the road, not even acknowledging her, Grace huffed out a breath. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “No.”

  At least he wasn’t ignoring her. “That man insulted me, Rafe. He deserved everything that happened to him.” Still, he stared ahead without saying a word. “Please say something. Anything.”

  He glanced at her and said, “Fine. Be quiet.”

  Grace pouted at his dismissal. Long minutes ticked by before she sat back in the seat and stared straight ahead.

  The rest of the trip was made in silence.

  When they reached the house, Rafe pulled the wagon up to the back door. He climbed down, came around to help her down much in the same fashion as he’d placed her in the wagon and started hauling the things from the mercantile inside without a word. Grace followed behind him quietly.

  She lit the stove once inside, throwing glances at Rafe as he carried in bags of flour and sugar, boxes of canned vegetables and meats and never once looked her way. When he was finished, he left, the back door slamming in his wake.

  From the kitchen window, Grace watched him guide the mule and wagon to the barn. She turned to find Jesse making his way through the kitchen and smiled at him. “Are you all right, Jesse?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He didn’t seem to be in a mood to talk to her either.

  Frowning, Grace carried her packages upstairs to her room and combed and repinned her hair. She spent the next half hour preparing a light meal for them, taking Jesse a plate to his room for him. She ate alone with a single lamp glowing on the kitchen table.

  Rafe hadn’t bothered to come in.

  She cleaned her dish and covered Rafe’s plate with a towel, setting it in the oven to stay warm before looking out the window toward the barn. A light glowed behind the closed doors and she wondered what he was doing. He couldn’t still be mad, could he?

  Grabbing Jesse’s coat from the peg by the door, she slipped it on and went outside. The air was cool, the wind chilling her in an instant.

  The doors on the barn were heavier than they looked but with a few hard tugs, Grace was able to open them enough to squeeze through. The light was dim inside the building. It took several moments before her eyes adjusted and she could see anything.

  The barn looked like any number of others she’d been in. It smelled much the same, too. The animals were quiet and Grace could hear Rafe’s voice. He was talking softly, or singing, she couldn’t tell.

  She walked along the stalls, looking at the animals as she passed them. When she reached the last stall, she found Rafe spreading straw. He was singing and either didn’t realize she was there or he was ignoring her. She’d put money on the last. He was getting very good at pretending she wasn’t there.

  Clearing her throat, she waited for him to acknowledge her. When he did nothing but grab more straw, Grace said, “Are you going to spend the rest of your life not speaking to me?”

  “As if that would be possible.” He turned his head to look at her. His face was in shadow from the low light in the barn and his hat. “You aren’t exactly the type of woman who lets a man not speak to her.” He straightened and faced her. “What do you want?”

  Grace opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. She wasn’t sure why she’d come looking for him except for the fact he hadn’t eaten. “I fixed you supper. It’s getting cold.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “You fixed me supper?” He grinned and crossed his arms over the top of the pitchfork he was holding. “You mean you fixed Jesse supper and there was enough left over for me.”

  Why did he sound so bitter? Grace sighed. “You really are a bullheaded man, Rafe Samuels.”

  “And you’re a troublesome piece of baggage a man could do without.”

  For some reason, his qui
et statement stung. She still couldn’t see his face clearly and the tone of his voice revealed nothing, but his words cut her more deeply than they should have. She straightened her spine and clasped her hands in front of her. “Your hospitality has not gone unnoticed. If my presence here is such a nuisance, I’ll go.”

  He laughed. “Go where? You have no money, remember?”

  Grace shrugged her shoulder. “I’m sure there are a number of men in Willow Creek that are unmarried and looking for a wife.”

  He stilled to the point Grace wasn’t even sure he was breathing. He stared at her for long minutes, his gaze boring into her as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He turned his back on her without saying a word, lifting the pitchfork again before digging more of the straw out.

  “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to form any kind of opinion of you, Grace. All I know is what I see.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He turned again and leaned the tool against the wall before tugging at his gloves. “You’re obviously someone who comes from money. Your clothes are too fine a material to not have cost a small fortune. The way you talk tells me you’ve had private schooling and your haughty manner… well, I’d bet a years profits you’re used to ordering people around, not being told what to do.” The smile on his face was smug and Grace wanted to slap him just to wipe his knowing smirk away. “How close did I get?”

  “So the fact I come from money is enough for you to dislike me, is that it?”

  “Never said a thing about not liking you, Grace.”

  She ignored the soft lilt to his voice when he said her name and the way her stomach seemed to flip just hearing it. “No, but its obvious you don’t.”

  “And what makes you think that?”

  Grace lifted her chin a notch. “You can go hours, a full day even, without speaking to me or looking in my direction, for one. You’ve made up your mind about me by appearances alone and you refuse to acknowledge me unless you have to.” He shrugged his shoulder and leaned toward the railing, propping his shoulder on the top board. “You are a pig headed, rude, rude man, Rafe Samuels, and I don’t think I like you very much.” He had the nerve to laugh at her. Grace definitely wanted to slap him now. “I’d watch myself if I were you, Rafe. Ben Crowley laughed at me too and we both know where that led us all.”

  At the mention if Ben’s name, the mirth vanished from Rafe’s eyes. He took a step toward her and the look he cast her sent a shiver up her spine. “Stay away from Ben, Grace. He isn’t someone you want to get involved with.”

  “I was trying to stay away from him. He approached me. What was I to do? Walk away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Being purposely rude to the man was a bit uncalled for don’t you think?”

  “No. This isn’t the big city. Rules of etiquette don’t apply here. Besides, slapping the man seems pretty damn rude in my book.”

  “Oh, well in that case, the next time someone implies I’m earning my keep around here by warming your bed, I’ll just let them believe it’s true. I mean really, what harm can come from people thinking you’ve a whore living under your roof.”

  “None I can think of.”

  Grace gasped. “I beg your pardon?” Her fists clenched as she straightened her spine. “You may have no qualms about people thinking you’re shacking up with a whore but I do! My reputation is in jeopardy as it is without the townsfolk thinking the worst of me.”

  “Why do you care what they think?”

  “Because I do! And so should you. You’re responsible for Jesse whether he wants to believe that or not and having people think the worst of his family will be harmful to his well being.”

  Rafe laughed and let himself out of the stall, closing the door behind him. “Jesse could care less what people think. If he did, he wouldn’t have sent off for you.”

  “What is that suppose to mean?”

  “It means, he knew people were going to talk the minute you got into town but he didn’t care. He ordered himself a bride and rode into town to collect her, the town be damned. Unfortunately for us, instead of some meek woman no one would remember, we got a ridiculous looking peacock with flame colored feathers in her hat, strutting the town and accosting men for insulting her. This isn’t Boston, Grace, and no one here gives a damn about your sensitive feelings.”

  Grace felt his hurtful words like a slap to the face. She realized in that moment that he really didn’t fancy her at all. That made the whole ordeal more vexing. His animosity was clear. Rafe Samuels didn’t like her, just as she’d thought. Her hopes of a future with him were dashed in an instant. Her heart broke an moment later.

  Her head pounded as blood rushed past her ears, the back of her eyes burning as tears filled her eyes, and she turned on her heel, presenting Rafe with her back before leaving the barn.

  “Damn it, Grace, I’m sorry.”

  Grace wanted to run to the house but refused to let Rafe see how upset she was.

  He was right on her heels, his hurried steps following her across the yard. He grabbed her and jerked her around to face him. Irritation still gnawed at her gut and the moment she saw his face, she lashed out and slapped him.

  She had a moment of regret at her actions before she remembered what he’d said and the urge to slap him again was great. She refrained from fear of what he may do. “You are a despicable man, Rafe Samuels. You’re mean-hearted, loathsome and downright ornery. There’s no wonder Jesse can’t stand to be in the same room with you. Do you even think of anyone besides yourself?”

  “I said I was sorry.”

  “Well, that you are.” She jerked from his grasp. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.” She ignored the shocked expression on his face. “I would hate to cause you an instant more of worry or embarrass you in some way so I’ll put my things by the bedroom door. You can pick them up there unless you expect me to carry them down myself.” She blinked away the tears in her eyes. “You can take me into town first thing in the morning after I’ve told Jesse this marriage arrangement is over.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You’re leaving?”

  Grace lifted her chin, willing the tears burning her eyes away. “Yes. It’s what you want, isn’t it? You’ve made it no secret my being here is an unwelcome inconvenience. You’ve done nothing since I’ve arrived but ignore me or insult me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have packing to do.”

  She turned and started across the yard again, her eyes and throat burning with the urge to cry. She ignored Rafe as he said her name again and hurried her steps, almost making it to the corner of the house before he grabbed her.

  When he turned her to look at him, the remorse on his face was clear. “You can’t leave.”

  Grace blinked her tears away and swallowed to dislodge the lump in her throat. “Why?”

  “Because…” He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing several times. He looked as if he were about to say something then thought better of it before he shook his head. “You’ll break Jesse’s heart if you do.”

  “As if you care about Jesse’s feelings,” she scoffed. “If you did, you’d treat him as he wished to be treated and not as a child who is underfoot all the time.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do!” Grace took a deep breath after yelling and tried to get her temper under control. “Rafe, you can not order that boy around. He told me on our way into town how he lived alone after your father died. He had no one to take care of him. Only himself. In his eyes, he’s a man, whether you or anyone else in this town sees it or not. Having you come in and boss him around is eating at what little pride he has left. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Because he isn’t a man, Grace. He’s a child, regardless of how you see him. He only survived as long as he did because Morgan Avery and his brother’s made sure he was all right.”

  “Fine. It’s obvious you’ll not see him as anything but a child so why aren’
t you treating him like one? Why isn’t he in school? Why is he here, doing your bidding instead of out playing with every other kid in town?”

  “He told me he didn’t want to go.”

  “And you just accepted that answer and let him stay at home?”

  Rafe growled and jerked his hat off, running a hand threw his hair before slamming the weathered leather back on his head. “What the hell was I supposed to do, Grace? The kid hated me the moment he clapped eyes on me. It took him three weeks before he’d even acknowledge I was in the house, another two before he uttered his first words to me, which, by the way, was to tell me to go to hell. I couldn’t very well march in here and order him to school, now could I?”

  “And what about now?”

  “What about now?”

  Grace tried to rein in her temper and lowered her voice. “He speaks to you now. Have you asked him what he wants?”

  “If you haven’t noticed, every time I speak to him he lashes out. I avoid speaking to him at all if I can.”

  “And how long do you expect to live that way? Until he is old enough to marry and leave?”

  “Oh, so you’re not marrying him, then?” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  “I’ve told you I’m not.”

  “So why are you still here? To torture me with your presence on a daily basis?

  “Torture you?” Grace was shocked by his choice of words. He was being tortured? How so? She took a step closer to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “If anyone is being tortured here, Rafe Samuels, its me. I’m the one cooking and cleaning for you with nothing in return other than a bed to sleep in. A simple thank you would suffice most days but you’re too pig headed for even that.” She gritted her teeth, raised her head to try to look him in the eye and shook her head is disgust when she failed. “I can’t believe for a second I even harbored the notion of marrying you, but trust me when I say you’d be the last man in Montana I’d marry!”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, Grace froze. Rafe tilted his head a fraction, enough for her to see the fire in his eyes change so quick, she gulped in a breath of air moments before he reached for her, dragging her to him and kissing her like his life depended on it.