Bride By Arrangement. Karen Kirst
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was going to be tougher than he’d thought. “I’ll fetch the tub and water for your baths.”
“What about supper?”
“I’ll eat later.” His stomach growled in defiance. “Make a list of everything you need. I’ll go to the mercantile first thing in the morning.”
Walking away was difficult when his conscience was insisting he apologize.
* * *
Shaking with emotion, Grace watched him disappear into the barn. She couldn’t decide if she’d rather shake him, slap him or hold him. The man infuriated her. Snooping through his house... Honestly? But he also struck a chord of compassion deep inside.
The man was as prickly as a cactus. While his behavior screamed stay away, his pure blue eyes told another story. Loneliness stalked him, devouring him from the inside out. When was the last time someone held his hand? Hugged him? Kissed his cheek?
Her first instinct had been to call after him that she hadn’t agreed to stay. As always, the danger Frank posed directed her actions. Staying here with the sheriff, all the while knowing she was a burden, was not ideal. It would be safer here than at a public hotel, however. Her brother-in-law wasn’t one to give up without a fight. When Frank Longstreet wanted something, he went after it with cold-blooded ruthlessness. The hunt thrilled him. More than once through the years, she’d seen him set his sights on unavailable women. Engaged women. Married women. He employed his charming assault, wearing them down until he triumphed and then casting them aside, uncaring that their lives and reputations were wrecked.
The fact that Ambrose was his brother had held Frank mostly at bay throughout her marriage. In the year since his passing, Frank had steadily intensified his campaign to win her. He claimed he wanted to actually marry her. He expected her to be overjoyed. Refusing him had been the easy part. Grace knew that by fleeing Chicago, she’d become prey to his predator. She could only hope she’d covered their tracks well enough.
She wasn’t sure exactly what he’d do if he found them.
Tamping down her worries, she rejoined the girls and called them to the table, not interested in eating herself. Her anxiety over Frank and her ongoing deception had her stomach twisted in knots most days. She was determined to keep up her strength, however. The girls were dependent on her for everything. A pang of longing for her church family hit her. While few were aware of her private struggles, she knew she could depend on them for support if she but asked.
Grace was putting milk glasses at the place settings when Noah reentered, hefting a huge copper tub. His shoulder and arm muscles strained as he maneuvered it into place near the work counter.
Jane left her seat to run over to him. “Is that for us?”
“Sure is.” Choosing a wide pail from beneath the counter, he strode for the door.
“Aren’t you going to eat with us, Sheriff?”
Jane’s confusion was understandable. Grace wasn’t sure how to explain the circumstances—that Noah didn’t want to marry her or anyone else, had no interest in being a father and was only allowing them to stay to assuage his conscience.
He twisted around, his expression unreadable. “I’ve got to fetch water for your bath.”
Seeing her daughter’s crestfallen expression, Grace waved a hand over the table’s contents. “The meal’s hot. It won’t taste nearly as good lukewarm.”
Reluctance stamped on his features, he set the pail on the floor and came to the table. Jane scooted into her chair beside him and clasped his big hand. “It’s your turn to say grace.”
He blinked at her, disconcerted by her outgoing manner, before bowing his head. Grace closed her eyes as his husky voice washed over her.
“And thank You, Lord, for allowing Alexandra to feel better,” he said at the end. “Amen.”
All three females stared at him. Jane piped up. “Her name is A-bi-gail.”
Noah’s gaze slid to Abigail, whose head was bent, a curtain of dark hair obscuring her face, and nodded solemnly. “Right.”
His lips twitched. In the process of smoothing a napkin over her lap, Grace’s fingers stilled. He was teasing them? The hardened ex-soldier who never smiled harbored humor somewhere behind that thundercloud demeanor?
Unsettled, she blindly spooned portions onto the girls’ plates before filling her own.
“Have you ever been to Chicago?” Jane asked.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“It’s huge.”
“It’s loud.” Abigail spoke to Noah for the first time.
He paused midchew, his startled gaze sliding to Grace’s for a split second before returning to Abigail’s. “It’s not loud here.”
Nibbling on her roll, Abigail stared at the slightly drooping bouquet inches from her plate.
“Men sell flowers on the streets. Newspapers and candied nuts, too.” Jane swallowed a bite of ham. “Momma took us to a fair one time, and there was a man drawing pictures of people for money. She paid him to do mine and Abigail’s. We hung them in our bedroom because Grandmother didn’t approve.”
Grace attempted to mask her unease. She’d emphasized the importance of not telling anyone her real identity. But they were only six years old. How easily the truth could slip out by accident.
Before she could change the subject, Jane spoke again. “Our bedroom was much, much bigger than this cabin.”
Noah’s brows hitched up. “That sounds like a very big room.” To Abigail, he said, “Aurora, did you have lots of toys in your room?”
Grace wasn’t surprised that she didn’t correct him. It took time for her quieter daughter to warm to strangers, much less assert herself. “I miss Pepper.”
“Who’s Pepper?”
“Our pet rabbit,” Jane answered for her, a habit Grace had tried to correct. “Momma wouldn’t let us bring him. She said he’d miss his home in the garden shed.”
They’d left most of their belongings at the estate. She hadn’t wanted to alert the staff of their impending departure. The night before their train left, Grace had taken advantage of the Longstreets’ absence—they’d attended a social function hosted by a business associate—and had hurriedly packed as many trunks as she’d dared, taking only the essentials.
The girls’ rabbit had been the least of her worries. Now that they’d made their escape, she recognized how difficult leaving their home, friends and pets must be for them.
Abigail placed the last bit of roll on her plate and turned big sad eyes to Grace. “May I be excused?”
If she hadn’t been ill, Grace would insist she finish her meal. “Of course. I’ll save your plate in case you get hungry later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Unsurprisingly, Jane chattered throughout the meal. Noah didn’t seem to mind, although Grace caught him wearing a nonplussed expression from time to time. She found herself hiding a smile. Who would’ve imagined the big tough sheriff with a wild beast for a companion and the guts to face down dangerous criminals would be thrown off balance by an innocent child?
There was more to Noah Burgess than the many titles he wore—Union soldier, rancher, town founder, sheriff. There were unmined layers and complexities that made up the man. A part of her mourned the fact she wouldn’t be allowed to learn his depths. She was certain there’d be surprises along the way, some challenging, some heartbreaking, some perhaps even delightful.
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