His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  Taking his seat, his thoughts went to Grace. Something was very wrong. She was upset but about what? Was it his reaction to her yesterday morning? Surely the woman wasn’t still chaffed about that?

  Of course, he had stolen a kiss from her and then pretended it didn’t happen. Had even went so far as to be rude to her, insulted her looks and left without another word. He didn’t know much about women but he was pretty sure that would offend one.

  Taking a sip of his coffee, he grimaced and then choked. Yeah, she was mad at him all right. He’d tasted better coffee after reusing the grounds for a week.

  Standing, he dumped the coffee in the sink and grabbed his coat. He’d just wait until lunch to eat. Maybe her temper would be cooled by then.

  He walked out into the crisp morning air. Frost covered everything in sight. The trees were shedding their leaves, the wind rustling the drying branches.

  Making his way to the barn, he turned up his collar and lowered his head. Once inside, he stood staring at the animals as they stirred.

  Winter was coming on faster than he’d like. There was so much to do yet and he wouldn’t have time to do everything he needed to get done. There were repairs to be made, the fence line to check, the house needed to be winterized and….

  He sighed. The list was too long. He’d never get it all done. Not with Jesse fighting him every second of the day. Maybe Grace was right. Maybe Jesse balked about helping out because he really wanted to be in school. He’d still have chores to do but nothing like he did now. He made a mental note to ask him about it later and started his own chores.

  The day wore on quickly and he was sweating and fighting hunger pains by mid-morning. He stepped out of the barn with plans to sneak into the kitchen for something to tide him over when he spotted Grace coming toward the barn backwards, her delightful derriere in the air, as she dragged something in his direction. He watched her for long moments before pulling off his gloves and crossing the yard. “What are you doing?”

  She straightened and flashed him a scathing look. “I need to go into town. Please hitch up the wagon for me.”

  Rafe raised his eyebrow and looked down at his feet. One of her trunks was there, the lid locked into place. Why was she dragging her trunk? His first instinct was, she’s leaving, but he discarded it. She would have made him haul her stuff out if that were the case.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilted his head to one side. “Why do you need the wagon?”

  “I’m going into town and I just told you as much. Please do as I asked and stop staring at me like that.” She leaned down again, grabbed the trunk by its side handle and started pulling it to the barn.

  Rafe watched her, amused, for long moments before heaving a frustrated sigh. “Grace.” She glanced up at him and fire still burned in her eyes. “You can’t go into town by yourself.”

  That stopped her. She straightened again, braced her hands on her hips and scowled. “And just why not?”

  He held back a grin and crossed the yard to where she stood. “Well, for one, you can’t handle the wagon alone.”

  “Says who? You?”

  Damn if she wasn’t even pretty mad. Her cheeks were flushed; a few tendrils of hair that had fallen loose from the tight bun she’d pulled her hair into were curled about her face. The navy blue material of her dress contrasted nicely with her skin tone and was cut low enough in the front it didn’t take much for his imagination to drive him half crazy with desire. His cock took notice the instant his gaze settled on those creamy breasts. He shook his head and raised his eyes to her face. “Why do you need to go to town?”

  “None of your business.”

  He did grin then. She was fighting mad and her chest was heaving with an effort to control her breathing. Would she pop out of that dress if he riled her more? One could hope. “Can you handle the wagon?”

  “I know horses, Mr. Samuels. I’m sure handling the wagon won’t be difficult.”

  Mr. Samuel’s? She was back to using formal names, was she? He’d see about that. “That’s not what I asked you, Grace. Have you ever driven a wagon?”

  She huffed out a breath. “No, but I’ve been riding since I was old enough to sit a horse. How difficult can it be to guide one with a wagon attached?”

  He laughed. “I have half a mind to just let you try.”

  She glared at him, her nostrils flared. Whatever she was upset about, he’d never find out without asking and he didn’t think she’d tell him at the moment. She was still mad and if he had to guess, it was him she was angry at.

  Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jesse finally make his way to the barn. Turning his attention back to Grace, he nodded to the trunk with his head. “You taking that into town with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “None of your business.”

  He grinned again. She wasn’t getting off that easy. “Fine. I’ll hitch up the wagon.” A satisfied look crossed her face and Rafe hid a smile as he walked back to the barn and led the mule from his stall. He spotted Jesse at the lower end of the barn. “Grace needs to go to town. Finish up your chores and get started on that woodpile out back. We’ll need the firewood before too long.”

  “Where you going?”

  “To hitch up the wagon.”

  Jesse stared at him for long moments before his eyes widened. “You’re taking her into town?”

  “Yes.”

  Jesse started across the barn. “I’ll do it. She’s my wife.”

  Rafe laughed. “The last time I let you two go to town alone, you ended up in jail. Do your chores, Jesse. We’ll be back before you’re done.”

  Jesse stuttered, his face turning red for an instant before he just stood there staring. Maybe he was remembering his short stint in jail and Ben Crowley laying a whooping on him. Whatever it was, Jesse turned without another word and went back to mucking out the stalls.

  Hooking the mule to the wagon was done in silence and when he was finished, Rafe had half a mind to make Grace lift the trunk by herself. Knowing that stubborn woman, she’d try.

  Huffing out a resigned breath, he grabbed the trunk and hauled it to the wagon, letting it drop in the back with a bang. When he looked toward the front of the wagon, Grace was there, already trying to climb into it in a billow of sateen skirts. He tilted his head, hoping the wind would catch those petticoats just right and give him a flash of her thighs.

  For once the wind was calm.

  Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up. Her small squeal of surprise, and the way she clung to his shoulders, was worth all the aggravation she’d put him through today. When she was seated, she grabbed the reins.

  “I don’t think so, darling.” He took them from her, leveled her with a look, and climbed into the wagon beside of her.

  She let out a small gasp when he nudged her with his hip, making her move over and give him room enough to sit down. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Rafe readjusted his hat and flicked the reins. “What does it look like? I’m taking you into town.”

  Her mouth opened but she didn’t say anything. When they reached the gate in front of the house, she slid over in the seat, giving him more room. He almost pulled her back.

  They rode in silence that stretched until Rafe was uncomfortable. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and could still see the icy glare in her eyes. He smiled and leaned forward a bit. “What are you so angry about, Grace?” She threw him a scathing look but didn’t answer. Just turned her nose up, crossed her arms under those perky little breasts, and ignored him.

  He studied her in silence for long minutes, trying to think of exactly ‘when’ she’d turned into such a shrew. It was after his remarks about her new calico dress, the morning after their kiss. It had to be that. He glanced back at her and cleared his throat. “Are you upset about me kissing you, then ignoring it?”

  She laughed and looked over at him
then, her eyebrows lowered. “Don’t presume I’m pining away for you, Mr. Samuels. I may be in an unfortunate situation but I’m far from desperate. I’d rather be married to the lowliest bum in all of Willow Creek than a womanizing, over-bearing brute as yourself.”

  Womanizing? Rafe puzzled over the statement but dismissed it when he couldn’t make sense of it. His brain latched onto the other thing she’d said. Marrying him. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned marriage in my presence, Grace. I’ve already said that couldn’t happen but I’ve no objections to sharing my bed with you.” He grinned. “I’ll admit I’ve thought of it myself. All you have to do is ask.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grace gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. How could he make jokes about the situation?

  She’d spent the last few weeks in his home, playing the part of dutiful wife, and all she’d received for her trouble was a kiss so passionate she had trouble thinking of anything else.

  He’d ignored her the following day, been rude, insulted her, and then stayed out all night doing Lord knew what. And in all that time, he still hadn’t said a single word about that kiss. No explanation. Nothing.

  And now he was teasing her about letting him bed her? She ignored him until they reached the outskirts of town.

  “Where to, Ms. Kingston?”

  “The mercantile, please.” She overlooked the hint of sarcasm in his tone while calling her, Ms. Kingston. She’d called him by his proper name every now and again, too. Mostly when she was upset with him, which seemed to be a lot lately.

  When he stopped in front of the only store in town, she stood. Rafe jumped from the wagon and turned toward her then, holding his arms up to her. She wanted to refuse his help but would end up face first on the rickety sidewalk if she did.

  Leaning down, she grabbed his shoulders and sucked in a breath when his hands encircled her waist. Her feet hit the sidewalk but he didn’t let go. He just stood there staring down at her, the heat from his hands branding her waist.

  A glance at his face and she wanted to take back every mean spirited word she’d ever thought about him. He was simply too beautiful for words and even knowing he’d used her and stole that kiss, she still couldn’t hate him.

  Simple truth was, she was upset because he didn’t seem inclined to do it again.

  She let go of him and pulled away, stepping around him and entering the store. He could bring her trunk in or not. Someone inside the store would get it for her if he refused.

  Mrs. Jenkins gave her a tiny smile when she entered and Grace returned it as she made her way to the counter. The store had a few customers and she waited until their business was conducted before disturbing the shopkeeper.

  When the last customer left, Grace laid her ridicule on the counter and pasted on a cheery smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins. I’ve brought you some dresses to look at and a few pieces of jewelry.”

  Mrs. Jenkins’ eyes lit up. “Wonderful. Can I see them?”

  Grace nodded and turned to look outside. Rafe was leaning back against the wagon, arms folded over his chest. He was staring at her. She inhaled deeply and started for the door, pausing before pulling it open, and stepping outside. “Would you mind bringing the trunk in?”

  He didn’t say a word, just pushed off the wagon and reached into the back to grab her trunk, carrying it inside and setting it on the floor. “What’s in the trunk, Grace? I could hear things rattling around in there.”

  His voice was pitched low but Grace knew Mrs. Jenkins had heard. She ignored him and unlatched the lock. A multitude of colored sateen caused Mrs. Jenkins’ smile to widen before she dropped to her knees and grabbed the first dress. Grace walked to the other side, pulling out the hats and hoped they hadn’t been crushed.

  “You going to sell me all of these?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.

  “Yes. There’s jewelry in a small case in the bottom. Everything can go. I have no need for it.”

  Grace had barely straightened before Rafe grabbed her arm, turned her and practically dragged her outside. When he stopped and faced her, she shot him a glare. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Samuels. I was in the middle of something, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Why are you selling your dresses, Grace?” He glanced back into the store before returning his attention to her. “If it’s to buy more homespun dresses, don’t bother. I prefer your fancy things to those ill-fitting calico’s you’ve been wearing.”

  There was a compliment buried in there somewhere but Grace chose to ignore it. “I’ve a need for my own money.”

  “What for? Anything you need I can provide, even those plain, dowdy dresses.”

  She stared at him, wondering where his change of heart had come from. She plainly heard him ask her if she’d spent his money on her dress yesterday morning and he didn’t seem pleased by the notion. “I’ve all the dresses I need at the moment.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest again and stared down at her. He was getting good at looking imposing. “Then why do you need money?”

  A small glimmer of something crossed his face and Grace almost labeled it as fear. She discarded the idea. What would he be afraid of? “My desire to have my own money is my concern.”

  He stared at her, the expression on his face unreadable. When he looked away, she shook her head and walked back into the store.

  Mrs. Jenkins had unpacked all the dresses, pairing them with hats and jewelry to match. Grace smiled. “Lovely, Mrs. Jenkins. I’m sure the ladies in town will snatch these off your shelves before they’ve even had time to air out completely.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they will. Do you want store credit or cash?”

  “Cash if you have it.”

  Mrs. Jenkins nodded and walked back to the counter. “What will you take for the lot of it?”

  Grace looked at the dresses. They had cost her father a small fortune but she knew she’d never make back their worth. Not in a town as small as Willow Creek. “What are they worth to you? I know what price they’d fetch in Boston but I’ve no idea how things work out here. Just give me a fair price for them and I’ll be happy.”

  Mrs. Jenkins smiled and told her to wait a few moments. Grace watched her disappear behind the curtained doorway and turned to browse the tables lined up behind her. The bell above the door rang and she smiled as a man entered. He was nice looking, strongly built and was accompanied by a young boy. Or was that a girl?

  “I’m not wearing no stinking dress, Pa!”

  The man cringed at the child’s shrieking voice. “You’ll wear exactly what I say, now quit your fussing.” He looked over at Grace as he passed, tipped his hat and moved to a row of small dresses hanging on the back wall. Grace wondered if he was married. With a child, she assumed he was.

  When Mrs. Jenkins reentered the room, Grace walked back to the counter. “So, what have you decided?”

  Mrs. Jenkins looked over at the man, and what she now knew was, in fact, a girl, and said, “I’ll be with you in a moment, Holden.”

  “No hurry,” he said, turning to look at them. His gaze landed on Grace and when he smiled, she actually blushed. He was indeed nice looking.

  “Will this do you?”

  Grace looked at the figure Mrs. Jenkins wrote down for her and wished it were more. She didn’t know what it cost to stay at the hotel but she had to eat too. Surely it wouldn’t be enough but what choice did she have? She either took Mrs. Jenkins’ offer or she would be forced to stay with Rafe and Jesse all winter. She nodded in acceptance and lifted her head. “That will be fine. Do you have that much cash or should I come back another day?”

  “I got most of it. Will store credit do you for the rest?”

  “Yes, that will be fine.” When Mrs. Jenkins disappeared behind the curtain again, Grace looked outside to where Rafe had been standing. He was talking with Marshal Avery. She wondered if it was about her but decided against it when the marshal turned a moment later and entered the store, leaving Rafe on the sidewalk
.

  He tipped his hat to her when he shut the door behind him. “Ma’am.”

  “Good morning, Marshal. You’re not here to arrest me again, are you?”

  He smiled and Grace wondered if he was unmarried. The marshal was nice looking, in that rugged cowboy kind of way. A few days worth of stubble covered his chin, his hat was tilted down in the front and his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. Her suspicion that he was unmarried took on a new life, then. Surely a wife wouldn’t let her husband walk around town so unkempt. Especially not the town marshal.

  “Not unless you give me reason to,” he said, answering her question.

  Grace snapped out of her musings and smiled. “I haven’t planned on it today.”

  “Uncle Morgan, tell pa to not make me wear no girly dress!”

  The shrill squeal startled Grace and she turned to see the girl, who was dressed in trousers, a dirty shirt and a battered hat come racing across the store. When she stopped by the marshal, Grace looked over to the man who’d come into the store with her. He was walking their way, his gaze intent on her. She smiled and straightened her spine.

  When he stopped by the marshal, Grace looked between the two men. There was a strong resemblance between them. Both were tall with dark hair and rugged looks. The girl had called the marshal uncle so they had to be related. “Your brother, I assume?”

  Marshal Avery nodded and looked at the other man. “Yes. This is Holden.” He looked down at the girl and put his hand on her back. “And my niece, Alexandra.”

  “Alex!” the little girl yelled. “I done told you I don’t like that sissy name.”

  Grace could only stare. Not only was the child loud but she had no manners whatsoever. There was no way this child had a mother. Looking up at Holden, Grace gave him a curious look.

  “I promise she wasn’t raised in a barn,” he said. “She just acts like it.”

  Grace forced a smile onto her face. “Oh, well manners can be taught.”

  “That’s what my wife keeps telling me.”

  Grace kept smiling despite her disappointment. “So, you’re married?”