Luke's Runaway Bride. Kate Bridges
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teen years, marked by petty crimes that followed his mother’s death and his brothers abandoning Cheyenne and Luke as a result—well, Daniel had gloated. The two hadn’t spoken in years, not since Daniel moved to Denver.
What happened to the good person Daniel used to be? Did he deserve another chance? Would marriage to Jenny straighten him out?
She seemed like a good woman. She had guts and stamina. And out here, where men outnumbered women eight to one, the strength of men depended on the strength of their women. Once Jenny married Daniel, she’d be stepmother to Adam. She’d make a good one, too. She’d been kind enough to help Luke, hadn’t she?
And how had he repaid her kindness? He stirred uneasily.
Forcing himself to look at the moving ground outside instead of the captivating woman inside, Luke ran a hand over his bandaged chest and moaned. The whiskey stains had dried. He’d been through enough fights to know his wound was light and it would heal. He was used to changing bandages all by himself, and he’d change these, too.
Her whisper pierced the quiet. “What’s your real name?”
He started at the silky sound of her voice and spun around. She sat up, clutching his jacket. Her hair matted along one side of her head, full of loose straw. Moonlight shadowed the hollows of her straight nose and curved mouth. He tried not to notice how pretty she was. She was Daniel’s. Luke would sooner die than cross that line of honor. He’d never chase another man’s woman. He was not his father.
Clearing his throat, he leaned a shoulder against the rough plank wall. “I told you. I’m Luke McLintock. And I didn’t steal any money. If I had, do you think I would have been standing on Daniel’s porch? And do you see any bags of money?”
She frowned, glanced at the saddlebags, then eyed him with suspicion. “Tell me truthfully how you know him.”
“You know already. We grew up together.”
“One friend wouldn’t do this to another.”
He winced, then shuffled his feet. “I’ve been saying the same thing to myself for eight hours.”
She sat up taller. Her slim waist flared to rounded hips. “Prove it to me. Tell me something only you would know.” A soft tremble rippled across her mouth. She was frightened of him, and that tweaked his guilt.
“Like what?” he asked gently.
“What day of the week was he born?”
“That’s easy. He says he was born to work with money. He tells everyone he was born on a Friday, the busiest banking day of the week. In mid-January.”
Her eyes probed his. “When were you born?”
“Six years later, during harvest. The last week of September.”
She lifted her chin. “Oh…that’s next week.” Her features tightened with suspicion. “What are his folks’ names?”
“They were Lance and Ellen. They passed away years ago.”
Scowling, she hugged her knees, pulling her gown around her. “Well, anyone might know that. Tell me something about yourself. How did your…your father die?”
“Daniel didn’t tell you?”
She drew back. “Should he have?”
“No, I’m just surprised.” After all, he thought to himself, Daniel loved to make himself sound superior. “My mother died of working too hard,” he said, gritting his teeth, trying not to remember how she’d had a stroke while on her knees scrubbing floors. “And my father…” he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall for support “…my father was hanged.”
Silence.
“That can’t be true,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
He pressed his lips together and shrugged a shoulder, too ashamed to meet her eyes.
More silence.
“For what crime?”
“Pick one.”
Straw rustled. He turned to look at her and she inched backward defensively, until she was pressing up against the slatted boards. As if she had to protect herself from him.
But didn’t she? He’d taken her from her family, from all she loved.
Her lips parted. She continued to stare, measuring him with a pensive shimmer in her eyes. Her smooth skin glowed in the dim light and her messy hair tangled with the straw. He shouldn’t really stare, but she had such a wild beauty. There was a softness and a strength to her that fascinated him.
“How’d you and Daniel meet?” he blurted.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d answer. “At a Union Pacific social,” she finally said. “The Independence Day fireworks. Father arranged the introductions.”
Luke found the news strangely uplifting. “You mean your father arranged the wedding?”
In a fluster, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, not exactly. Sort of…” She gave a little cough. “It was my decision.”
“I see.” Lots of fathers arranged marriages. Why did this news please Luke?
Sudden anger flashed in her eyes. “You better watch out when my father gets ahold of you.”
“Daniel has a way of convincing people. I’m sure he can handle your father.”
Her voice rose. “Not this time. My father will know something’s wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never missed writing a speech for him before.”
He pressed his back against the cold wall, facing her directly. “You write your father’s speeches?”
She nodded and plucked at the straw near her boots.
“You’re educated then. Went to college in Boston?”
“Well, not precisely. My brothers did.”
“But not you?”
She furrowed her brow. “I read every one of their books.”
“Why didn’t you just go to school?”
“Because women don’t go to college, that’s why,” she answered.
He paused. “But I hear they do.”
Glancing down at her fingers, she twisted her engagement ring. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “It’s what my father always tells me.”
“Oh.” Luke was touched by her tender admission. “Yet he gets you to write his speeches.”
“But no one knows I do.” She met his eyes with such honesty, it upset his balance. “Well, except you.”
“Your father sounds like a hypocrite.”
Jenny’s eyes sparked. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”
“Mostly.”
“That’s why your chest is all scarred up.”
He grinned with sudden humor. “That’s a pretty fair deduction.”
Jenny lowered her head and swallowed. “Can’t you please let us go? Where is Olivia?”
“She’s safe in the next car.” He spun away so she wouldn’t see his eyes softening. For a moment, he stared up at the stars, feeling the cool wind on his face, the wheels of the train thundering beneath his boots. Mustering strength, he turned to face her. “As soon as Daniel arrives, and I expect it’ll be tomorrow, I’ll release you.”
She searched his face. “You promise you will?”
He prickled