Romancing The Runaway Bride. Karen Kirst
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The first one through the door was his ma. He soaked in the changes, the streaks of gray in her brown hair, the crow’s-feet about her eyes.
He rounded the horse and approached the porch steps, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
“Adam!” Her cry was strangled. She launched herself at him, and he caught her in his arms, breathing deeply of her familiar perfume. “Oh, my darling boy.”
She caressed his cheek, her reddened eyes seeming to take inventory of how he’d matured. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed on the wooden slats, and they both turned to see Seth striding toward them.
There were equal parts caution and joy in his eldest brother’s eyes. His brown gaze gobbled up the sight of him. He halted at the base of the stairs.
Adam took a deep breath. “How are you, Seth?”
Evelyn wiped her eyes and looked anxiously between her oldest and youngest offspring.
“Good. Really good.” The breeze ruffled Seth’s light brown hair, pushing strands onto his forehead. “You look hale and hearty.”
“I can’t complain.”
“We thought you’d come and see us once the fighting was over.”
Adam winced at the subtle accusation. “I should have. I meant to.” He scraped his hand over his jaw. Pride had prevented him. And worry that he’d damaged their relationship beyond repair. “I don’t have any acceptable excuses.”
A muscle twitched in Seth’s cheek. “For four years, we worried you’d get hurt on the battlefield. Or worse. Admit it, you weren’t a prolific writer. Months passed without word. And then, instead of coming home, you joined the Pinkertons and couldn’t be bothered to drop in for a day or two. Do you care so little about your own flesh and blood?”
For the first time, Adam glimpsed the intense hurt beneath Seth’s gruff exterior. Hurt he had caused. Regret flooded him.
“Please don’t argue,” Evelyn whispered, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth. “This is a joyous day. My sons together again at long last.”
Standing at the top of the stairs, Russell no longer wore his lighthearted expression. He watched the exchange with somber wariness.
“We’re not fighting, Ma. He has a right to air his grievances. All of you do.” Adam squared his shoulders and met Seth’s eyes. “Everything you’ve said is true. I’m sorry I was callous and selfish. I’m sorry I didn’t write more often. I could have visited. Multiple times.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “I was foolish to ever criticize you. Everything that happened in Big Bend... We each dealt with the aftermath of Ogden’s perfidy in our own ways. I was too young and stupid to see that then. Will you forgive me?”
The quiet stretched between them, punctuated by cattle lowing in the fields and the rustle of tree limbs swaying.
The grimness in Seth’s features faded. “You’re not the only Halloway with a temper and a hard head.”
The tightness in his chest easing, Adam extended his hand for a shake. Seth gripped it, hard, then yanked him close for a hug. Evelyn started crying again.
“Don’t ever stay away that long again, you hear?” Seth said gruffly in his ear.
Adam nodded and smiled, embarrassed to find his own eyes wet. “You have my word.”
A loud thump sounded inside the house. Adam glanced past Seth’s shoulder and saw a curtain flutter in one of the windows. At the sight of a child’s round, smudged face, he froze. A second one joined the first.
“Seth?” He took a hasty step back. “Are there children inside your house?”
Everyone around him burst into laughter. Seth’s eyes started twinkling. He urged Adam up the steps. “There are some things I have to tell you, little brother.”
“More like people he needs to introduce you to,” Russell added as he followed them inside.
Evelyn’s expression became positively sentimental. “The only thing that could make me happier than having you home, my dear son, is seeing you wed and starting a family like your brothers.”
* * *
Try as she might, Deborah couldn’t oust Adam from her thoughts. When he didn’t show for breakfast, she assumed he’d overslept. Who could say what his eating habits were? Some people preferred to wait until midmorning to break their fast. But when the noon meal rolled around and he still hadn’t made an appearance, she’d had the terrible suspicion that he’d left. If not town, then the boardinghouse.
She’d stooped to asking Aunt Mae—as discreetly as she could manage—who’d stated that he was planning to stay at the boardinghouse indefinitely. The punch of relief Deborah had experienced alarmed her. Now wasn’t the time to entertain an infatuation! Her life was in limbo, her future uncertain. Besides, Adam might or might not decide to make Kansas his permanent home. Judging from his comments the previous evening, he wasn’t keen on staying in one place for long.
A spider scuttled from beneath the plants very close to where she knelt in the strawberry patch. She waited to make sure it was traveling in the opposite direction before resuming her task. Late-afternoon sun stroked her skin, and the agreeable smells of warm earth and grass reminded her it was nearly summer. Back home, their kitchen workers Louise and Wanda would be tending the estate gardens. The pair had treated her as an equal rather than the tycoon’s graceless daughter. They’d allowed her to assist them in the daily meal preparations, provided Gerard was out of the house conducting business. A pang of homesickness struck her unawares.
Snapping off more fruit, she placed the red berries carefully into the basket beside her. Glancing around at the substantial yard behind the boardinghouse, she took stock of the generous veranda, with its wide chairs and bold-hued flowers spilling out of crates, the straight garden rows and towering trees separating this lot from the newspaper’s next door. The trees and bushes lent the space privacy and blocked some of the sounds filtering from Eden Street. Deborah missed her childhood home, but this place had its own charms.
For a runaway bride, she’d been blessed with a safe place to live and friends she could count on. The Cowboy Creek community had embraced her. She thanked God every day for placing that lost train ticket in her path.
The sound of whistling drew her head up and her gaze to the low, white fence along the side street. She recognized Adam at once. Clad in a black suit, his hair slicked off his face, he walked with an air of assurance. Her pulse skipped when he caught sight of her and waved. Instead of continuing along to the front entrance, he opened the gate and crossed the yard.
He entered the narrow dirt path and came to a stop beside her.
“Good afternoon, Deborah. I see you’re hard at work.”
Beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his eyes shone with excitement. He radiated a charged energy not present last evening. Why the change? Had he found land? Or perhaps a young lady had snagged his interest?
Her belly knotted. Adam was a successful businessman like her father. He’d have high standards when it came to potential brides. A poised, proper lady who could plan social events and execute them without a hitch, a perfectly behaved lady who didn’t have a habit of saying the wrong thing.
She tilted her head back and blocked the sunlight with her hand. “I enjoy being outside if it isn’t too stifling.”
He glanced between her, the half-filled basket and the berries on the plants. “I’ll be right back.”
He hurried to the veranda, where he shucked his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his gray-and-white-striped shirt. Back in the patch, he joined her in the dirt.
“What are you doing?” she said, an unwanted thrill shivering through her at his nearness.
He flashed a grin. “I’m hoping that