Groom by Arrangement

by Rhonda Gibson

  “How do you know this?” she asked, wishing she didn’t know it now.

  Jackson pulled his shirt out of his waistband. “Sam told me while we stowed away the wagon.”

  Eliza sighed. “Why didn’t they just tell me?”

  “Myrtle thought it would be better not to scare you. I don’t want to scare you, either, but I felt you should know the truth.” He looked at the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” Eliza asked, averting her eyes from his chest.

  “Getting ready for bed. I’m tired.” Jackson’s shirt hit the floor a few feet away from her.

  A few seconds later she heard his pants join the shirt. Still keeping her eyes on the floor, Eliza protested, “But we haven’t talked about sleeping arrangements.”

  The hem of the quilt began sliding down the bed. She listened as Jackson pulled back the sheets. He didn’t say a word. She heard the mattress squeak as his weight descended upon it.

  “All right, you can have the bed.” Her voice cracked. Keeping her eyes averted from him, Eliza hurried to stand behind the changing curtain.

  Now what? There was no place to sleep. A cabinet with a washbasin was all that was behind the curtain. The sound of the covers rustling filled the too-quiet room. She looked about the small changing space and realized she hadn’t grabbed her satchel.

  A soft chuckle met her ears before Jackson asked, “Did you forget something?”

  “You know, a gentleman would have offered me the bed,” she called back to him, half mad.

  The sound of him yawning reached her ears. “I suppose you are right.”

  Hadn’t they agreed to keep the marriage pure? Well, maybe pure wasn’t the right word. Had she not made herself clear? Eliza felt sure she had.

  A soft snore greeted her ears. Was he asleep already? She eased her head from behind the sheet and sighed. He was.

  Advancing quietly toward the bed, Eliza looked down on him. Jackson had made a pallet out of the quilt. He lay on the floor with one arm thrown over his head and the other resting on his chest. His relaxed features presented the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Gone were the worry lines. His forehead was smooth, his jaw unclenched.

  Eliza realized he’d only been teasing her about sharing the bed and was grateful. She picked up her bag and carried it behind the screen.

  As she changed, Jackson’s snores got a little louder. The white cotton gown came to her knees. The lacy top with short sleeves felt cool against her overly warm body. Eliza looked in her satchel for the cover-up that went with the gown. Eve hadn’t packed it.

  His snores continued to fill the silent room. Eliza blew out the lamp and then slipped to the opposite side of the bed. She pulled back the sheet and eased onto the bed.

  Once under the covers, Eliza closed her eyes and tried to ignore the big man snoring softly on the floor. The mattress felt soft against her back and she sighed. It was hard to believe that she and Jackson were now man and wife. She continued to listen to his soft snores and soon found herself drifting toward sleep.

  * * *

  Jackson awoke the next morning with a knot in his back from sleeping on the floor. Eliza’s steady breathing told him she was still fast asleep. For a few moments he allowed himself to dream of what his life would be like if he and Eliza turned this into a real marriage. They had already made it through some tough times and had worked through them. They hadn’t disagreed on the main decisions; instead, they gained a mutual respect for one another.

  He sat up, forcing away the thoughts of true marriage. Cool morning air shivered over his warm flesh. Careful not to wake her, Jackson moved to his valise and pulled out fresh clothes.

  He carried them behind the changing curtain and bathed the best he could with cold water from the washbasin. Jackson dressed and then picked up his soiled clothes and boots. After stuffing the dirty clothes into his bag, he sat down in the wooden chair and pulled on his boots.

  Eliza continued to sleep. Her hair splayed across the white pillow; her long eyelashes created shadows on her cheeks. Her generously curved lips were slightly parted, and as she drew in each breath they moved as if she were getting ready to speak. Jackson couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. The woman even talked in her sleep.

  He walked over to the window and looked outside. Sam and a few other men stood in front of the house. Jackson made the decision to go join them.

  Drawn to the bed for one more look at Eliza’s sleeping face one thought crossed his mind then swelled up somewhere near his heart and lodged. This woman belonged to him. They may not have been intimate, but in all the ways that mattered they were bound together. He’d made a promise to keep and protect her, and Jackson Hart never backed out of a promise. With that thought in mind he slipped out the door.

  The house was quiet as he made his way down the stairs. The smell of a fresh new day greeted him as he stepped outside.

  Glendale was ten miles closer to the Colorado boarder than Cottonwood Springs. The change in temperature could be felt on the morning breeze.

  Sam waved him over. “Morning, Jackson. This here’s John Freeman, Asa Johnson and his son, Cord.”

  Jackson shook hands with each man. His gaze moved over the horse behind John Freeman. It looked to him as if the horse had been ridden hard. She kept lifting her back leg, and he couldn’t help but think she might have a rock lodged in her shoe.

  “Mind if I take a look at your horse’s shoe?” he asked John.

  “Go ahead.” John held the animal’s head while Jackson approached it.

  Sam continued speaking while Jackson lifted the horse’s back hoof off the ground. “John was just telling us that the Carter place was burned to the ground last night. Phillip and his wife, Caroline, just barely made it out.”

  “If you ask me, someone should send for the marshal. It’s his job to uphold law and order.” Asa spat on the ground.

  “What about the sheriff?” Jackson asked, taking out his pocket knife and digging a stone out from under the horse’s shoe.

  John shook his head. “He up and left. Not sure what they said to scare him off, but one morning his office was cleared out and he was gone.”

  Jackson moved to the other side of the horse and examined its other back shoe. “So you have no law?”

  “None at the moment.” Sam rocked back on his heels. “You want to apply for the job?”

  Jackson stood and patted the horse’s rump. “I’m not a lawman, I’m a blacksmith.”

  “And a darn good one, I’d wager,” John said, rubbing his horse’s nose.

  He wondered if he should feel flattered but decided not to. “Anyone can dig a rock out from under a horse’s shoe.” Jackson shrugged.

  “True, but not everyone would volunteer or even notice that the animal was uncomfortable. Thank you.” John held out his hand. After shaking Jackson’s hand, he remounted. “I am heading over to Wheel’s Road to tell the folks up there about the Carters and warn them to be on their guard.”

  Sam nodded. “We’ll spread the word here. Thanks for stopping by, John.”

  John nodded and then spun his horse around.

  “We best be getting to the Glendale newsroom,” Asa told his son, Cord.

  As they walked down the sidewalk Sam explained, “Asa owns the only newspaper in town. He’ll have the news about the Carters’ place circulating by noon. Come on, let’s go get us some breakfast before Ma throws it out to the hogs.”

  Jackson followed Sam inside. The smell of bacon and coffee filled the sitting room. He heard a noise at the top of the stairs and turned just in time to see Eliza floating down toward them in a dress of blue.

  When she reached the bottom step her brown eyes met his and a soft pink filled her glowing cheeks. “Good morning.”


  Jackson bent down and kissed her cheek. It felt soft against his lips, reminding him of their wedding kiss. She’d been soft and sweet then, too, and it had taken all he had to release her. He slowly lifted his head, wanting to kiss her lips but knowing now wasn’t the time. Instead, he offered her his arm.

  Sam continued walking toward the smell of breakfast. “If you lovebirds will follow me, we’ll have breakfast.”

  Eliza ducked her head but slipped her small hand into the crook of his elbow. He patted her hand and followed Sam.

  The dining area was a narrow, long room with a sideboard that held platters of bacon, scrambled eggs, fresh bread, jams and a crock of butter. A coffeepot sat on a hot brick at one end of the makeshift bar. Plates, silverware and cups sat on the other end.

  Sam walked to the plates and began working his way down the buffet. Eliza followed his example and Jackson picked up a coffee cup and headed to the pot at the other end of the table.

  Myrtle hastened into the room from a side door. She held a plate of flapjacks in one hand and a jar of syrup in another. Jackson moved out of her way and went to sit down at the table.

  “I hope you both slept good.” Myrtle set the flapjacks and syrup on the buffet table.

  Eliza smiled. “We did. Thank you.”

  Jackson watched her fill the plate in her hands. She piled it high with eggs, bacon and two biscuits. Her face scrunched up and then she added two pancakes and poured a generous amount of syrup over the top of them. For such a little woman she seemed to be prepared to put away a mountain of food, he thought.

  He was surprised when she set the steaming plate in front of him and then walked back to the buffet, where she began filling another plate. This time she placed less than half of what she’d taken for him onto her plate.

  “This smells wonderful, Myrtle,” Eliza offered.

  Myrtle gave her a toothy smile. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy it.”

  Sam sat beside Jackson and began shoveling food in his mouth like it was his last meal. He slurped his coffee and clanked his silverware against his plate.

  “I’m sure we will,” Eliza said as she returned to sit beside him.

  He took the fork and knife she offered him and smiled his thanks.

  Her hair was up in its normal knot and once again she’d allowed curls to escape about her face. Jackson liked the softer look. He leaned over and, for her ears only, said, “Thanks for getting my plate, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re welcome. Will you say the prayer, please?”

  Sam stopped eating and lowered his head. Myrtle sat down, as well, and Jackson tried to hide his grin as he, too, lowered his head and then asked the blessing on their food, throwing in a quick request for protection on their ride home.

  As soon as he finished, Myrtle asked, “What are your plans today?” She looked at them expectantly.

  Jackson answered, “Eliza wants to see the town and maybe stop in the general store for a few supplies.” He picked up his fork and took a big bite of the hotcakes. Sugar coated his tongue and he sighed with satisfaction.

  Myrtle grinned across at him. “I’ll be sure and give your wife my secret recipe before you head out.”

  “Thanks, Myrtle. He’s never sighed like that over my cooking.”

  Jackson turned his head to look at his pretty new wife. Was she offended that he hadn’t shown the appropriate pleasure at her cooking?

  “I’m teasing you, Jackson,” she assured him.

  Myrtle laughed. “New husbands take things so seriously.”

  Jackson looked at her. “How did you know we just got married?”

  Sam scoffed but continued to eat as if he’d not made a sound.

  “It’s in both of your eyes.” She rested her elbows on the table and looked dreamily out the window. “I remember when I first fell in love. Everything seems rosier. Don’t you agree, Eliza?”

  Eliza choked and sputtered.

  Jackson felt as shocked as Eliza sounded. Did they appear to be in love? Surely Myrtle was mistaken, Eliza couldn’t possibly love him as a wife loves a husband.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Eliza nodded. She continued to walk beside him but didn’t meet his gaze.

  “You sure? I thought you might just choke to death in there,” he teased.

  She gritted her teeth. “I just needed some fresh air.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s a good thing I don’t eat a large breakfast. You got us out of the house so fast Myrtle thought your skirts were on fire.”

  Eliza watched the corners of his mouth twitch. She playfully swatted him on the arm. “Oh, she did not.”

  His laughter caused several people to look in their direction. Jackson didn’t seem to notice. He opened the general store door and the bell rang out over their heads.

  Eliza inhaled the many fragrances and looked toward the front counter and the drawer labeled Tea. She walked up and waited for the merchant to turn around. The sound of Jackson’s boots on the wooden floor told her he’d followed her to the counter.

  Mr. Roberts, the owner, turned to face them. “Oh, good. I’m glad you came back. What can I get you today?”

  “I’d like a pound of tea, please,” Eliza answered.

  “All right. Is there anything else?”

  “I’d like to shop around a bit,” Eliza answered. She looked to see where Jackson had gone and found him standing against the wall watching them. His arms were crossed over his chest.

  She’d thought he would do a little shopping, too, but he didn’t seem to be interested in anything but her. Eliza felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to prickle. She walked over to Jackson while Mr. Roberts measured out her order. “Aren’t you going to look around?” she asked, trying to ignore the butterflies that had decided to take flight when she looked into his blue eyes.

  A couple of older gentlemen entered the store. The merchant looked up at them and called, “Morning, Jeb, Ike.”

  They waved and moved to a small table off to the side where a checkerboard sat.

  Jackson answered her, “No, I don’t need anything from here. You go ahead and look.”

  “Is there someplace else you’d like to go?” she asked, watching as the older men began setting up the game board.

  Jackson tilted his head. “Trying to get rid of me?” He dropped his hands to his side.

  “Only if you’re thinking about dragging me to the smithy. I’d rather stay here and shop while you go do that,” she confessed, knowing he probably couldn’t resist going to see what the local blacksmith shop looked like.

  “I don’t know, Eliza. We probably should stick together.” His gaze moved to the street outside.

  “Really, Jackson. I’ll be safe in here, and I promise not to leave the store.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I’d feel better knowing you were enjoying yourself while I shop.”

  He reached up and touched one of the curls that framed her face. His knuckles brushed the side of her cheek. “All right, but only if you promise not to leave here without me.”

  It was all Eliza could do not to lean into his hand. “I promise.”

  Jackson dropped his hand back to his side. “I’ll be back in half an hour.” He spun on his booted heels and left her staring after him.

  Eliza walked to the bolts of fabric and began picking out several patterns that she knew wouldn’t be in Cottonwood Springs. Her thoughts went to the dresses, shirts and hats she could use each print for. She also thought about what notations she’d need to go with each fabric.

  Twenty minutes later she paid Mr. Roberts for the fabric, notations, tea and a windup toy and lemon drops for Peter.

  As she placed the change in her reticule a man and woman entered the sto
re. The woman hurried to the counter and handed Mr. Roberts a long list. Her husband walked to where the two older gentlemen were still playing checkers and lit up a foul smelling cigar.

  She tried to ignore the stench, but soon her eyes were watering and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. He offered cigars to the other two men. One accepted; the other declined. Soon both men were filling the room with the foul odor.

  Eliza decided to step out on the porch for a breath of fresh air. The thought that she’d promised Jackson she’d stay in the store gave her pause.

  The woman’s husband blew another cloud of stench into the air. Eliza felt light-headed. Her throat clogged up and she began to cough. She looked longingly out the door.

  A bench that rested under the window looked inviting. Eliza called to Mr. Roberts, “I’m going to sit on the bench outside. When Jackson returns, he’ll pick up my packages.”

  He nodded that he heard her as he continued to tally up the woman’s order.

  Eliza pulled the door open and hurried out to the sidewalk. She sucked in great gulps of fresh air. How in the world could anyone stand to smoke those disgusting things? And his wife, how did the man’s wife live with that? Eliza thanked the stars above that Jackson wasn’t a smoker.

  As her lungs cleared she looked around. Lots of people now filled the town. Wagons rolled down the dirt street. Several little boys were playing some type of game with a ball and sticks. Their dog raced about barking. She sat down on the bench to wait for Jackson.

  Her gaze moved down the rows of shops and Eliza sat up. Was that a dress store? How had she missed it earlier? She stood and walked to the edge of the sidewalk to get a better look. It was a dress shop. Excitement raced through her as she thought of all the different pattern ideas she might get there.

  Eliza hurried back inside the store. She tried to hold her breath as she marched up to the counter. “Mr. Roberts?”

  He looked in her direction. “Yes, Mrs. Hart?”

  “Would you be so kind as to tell my husband when he returns that I ran across the street to the dress shop?” she asked while trying not to breathe too deep.