Unlawfully Wedded Bride. Noelle Marchand
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than her and, as a result, everything was nearly out of her reach. It took a moment for her to spot it. “There it is.”
“I see it,” Nathan said at the same time.
Her hand reached it a moment before his did. She stilled as his hand covered hers. She pulled the brush down half expecting him to release it, half hoping he wouldn’t. He didn’t. She turned toward him and slowly glanced up past his blue checkered shirt to his face. His gaze solemnly slipped over her features. She swallowed. “There’s something I have to ask you.”
His gaze met hers.
She lifted her chin. “Who are you and why are you here?”
He frowned and released her hand. “What do you mean, who am I?”
“While we’re at it, how do you know my name?”
“Why shouldn’t I know your name? I am Nathan Rutledge and you are Kate—”
“O’Brien,” she finished. “Yes, I know that.”
“Rutledge,” he reminded.
“What?”
“Rutledge.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because your name used to be—” He paused and looked at her for a second. “You mean to tell me that you, Kathleen ‘O’Brien,’ have never even heard my name before today?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
He began to speak, then shook his head and strode over to where his saddlebag rested near Delilah’s stall. “I suppose you’d better have a look at this.”
She took the piece of paper he extended to her. She glanced up as she unfolded it. “What is this?”
“It’s our marriage certificate,” he replied quietly.
“What?” Her gaze held his before she stared down at the certificate. “You don’t mean—”
“I mean,” he interrupted with quiet authority, “that you, Kate O’Brien Rutledge, are my wife.”
Chapter Two
“I don’t understand how you could marry me without my consent,” Kate said as she handed him a glass of water, then settled onto the dark green settee in the living room a few minutes later.
He sat at the other end of the settee, then turned toward her. “What are you talking about? You signed the affidavit.”
“I signed it but I never intended to send it,” she admitted.
A confused frown marred his face. “I don’t understand.”
She bit her lip. “Mr. Rutledge, I’m afraid my family owes you an apology.”
“An apology?”
She pulled in a deep breath. “Let me explain how this started.”
She watched a myriad of emotions flit across his face as she carefully explained what her siblings had done. Shock, confusion and disappointment battled for dominance before a bemused, disbelieving smile settled upon his lips. Once she finished, his gaze strayed to the saddle bag he’d set on the low walnut table in front of them. “So your little brother and sister are the ones who wrote the letters.”
“I’m afraid so.”
He watched her carefully. “Were they also the ones who sent the affidavit?”
“They must have because I certainly didn’t.”
He nodded, then looked as though he didn’t know what else to say. An uncomfortable silence filled the living room. What was she supposed to do now? She shrugged. “You’re welcome to stay and help me sort this out when they get home.”
“Thank you.”
Silence again. She glanced around the room for something to do and her gaze landed on his saddle bag. Meeting his gaze, she asked, “Is there any chance I could see one of those letters?”
“Of course,” he said, then pulled out several letters from the saddlebag and handed them to her.
She looked at the curved letters written in a formal script. “This isn’t Ellie’s handwriting.”
“Then whose is it?”
“It looks like Ms. Lettie’s. She must have helped them.” The young widow would do whatever she could to support Kate and her family. Still, if not for seeing her familiar handwriting, Kate would never have suspected the woman of doing anything this drastic.
She continued to read the contents of a letter and frowned. “This is something I told Ellie about Ma’s wedding dress. It was destroyed in a fire when I was eight. Nothing was left but—”
“A small strip of the Irish lace that trimmed the hem of the dress,” he continued. “Your mother brought it with you on your journey here from Illinois and just a week before she died she sewed it into your own wedding dress. You keep it in your small wooden hope chest.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said quietly. “That was all—”
“In the letter?” he asked. “Yes, it was all there.”
Her eyes narrowed as she softly queried, “What else was written in there?”
“Oh, just the generalities.”
“Such as?”
He grinned. “Such as your name, birth date and other general information.”
Her lips curved into a slightly amused smile. “How helpful.”
“I thought so.”
“Right,” she breathed, looking at the letter in her hand, realizing this man whom she knew nothing about could probably recite her entire life story. “You know so much about me yet I know nothing about you.”
“You could ask,” he said with an inviting lift of his brow.
Curiosity begged to accept his invitation but wouldn’t it be best to let the man remain a mystery? The more she knew, the harder it would be to forget this ever happened. She planned to do that as sure as she planned to send him away. Until then, there was only one thing she really wanted to know. “Why would you even agree to something like this in the first place?”
Nathan should have known that would be the first question she asked. “I explained the best I could in the letters but I guess you didn’t read those, did you?”
She shook her head.
He was quiet for a long moment as he searched for the right words. Finally, he asked, “Have you ever felt like God took your plans for the future, crumpled them up in his hands and scattered the pieces?
“That’s what happened to me,” he said gravely. “Then I saw the advertisement. I scoffed at it at first, don’t get me wrong. Still, try as I might, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I finally just broke down and wrote to you. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but you responded and the more I learned about you the more I felt God leading me to continue.”
Her blue eyes filled with doubt and skepticism. “Then why didn’t you just try to meet me first? All of this could have been avoided.”
He shrugged. “The letters insisted on a proxy marriage. They said you wanted to cause as little disruption to the farm and your family as possible. I’m not saying it didn’t seem a little odd but at that point I believed God wanted me to do it. I wasn’t about to go against that.”
She smiled sympathetically then lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “We all make mistakes. I’ve certainly made my share. Thankfully, this shouldn’t be too hard to fix.”
“I never said I was mistaken.”