A Bride at Last (24 page)

Oh, God, thank you for the boy you gifted me, but I need help.

And since I
didn’t ask you about Kate, well, I just don’t know how that situation needs to be resolved. Should
I write her or let her write me? I’d thought I needed her for Anthony’s sake, and then I wanted her for mine, but maybe I’m just scared to be responsible for him on my own, especially now that it looks like I’m not doing that great of a job. I know you promise to help
us through anything, and I need to trust you’ll help, whether Kate’s with me or not.

Silas unwrapped his scarf and draped it over the seat between Lynville and Anthony behind the long table Jedidiah used to sort mail packages during the day. Four chessboards were set up, though rarely enough men came for more than three games at a time.

“I see you’ve brought yourself a chess player you can actually beat.” Lynville stood and punched Silas in the arm.

Silas could wipe the floor with Lynville with nothing but pawns. “Naw, I brought him for you to beat. Though he may be too skilled. He says he’s played once before.”

Lynville attempted to snarl, but a smile flickered underneath his curled lips. He turned to Anthony and flicked up the boy’s hat.

Though Anthony’s face turned dark, Lynville kept smiling. “You ready to find out if you’ve inherited your pa’s pitiful chess skills?”

The boy shrugged and frowned at the board in front of him.

The door opened, and the frosty air sucked the heat from the room again. Ned Parker tried to catch his hat as it flew off, but missed. “Daggone wind. Hate Kansas.” He kicked the door shut.

Silas greeted the grouchiest man in Salina County with a slight nod.

Ned didn’t bother to return the greeting. He looked back
at Jedidiah. “You got me a letter yet?” Ned snatched his hat off the floor, then hung his bowler and slicker on a peg before marching to the back counter.

“I have one for both you and Silas.”

Silas’s heart tripped. Anthony lifted his head, his eyes alight with the first bit of interest Silas had seen in a few days. Who else would bother to write but Kate?

Ned ripped the top off his envelope with weather-cracked fingers.

“Here’s yours, Silas.” Jedidiah’s eyebrows rose.

What if Kate kept writing? Jedidiah wouldn’t keep his questions to himself much longer.

The letter shook in Silas’s hand, so he tried to stash it quickly in his pocket, but his fingers fumbled and he had to retrieve the envelope off the floor.

He needed to get ahold of himself. The only reason Kate would write him was for Anthony’s sake. She’d not quit teaching to marry him. Any feelings their kiss had created would fade over the months left in the school year. Anthony would adjust to Kansas without her help and then there’d be no need for her to come.

He let out a slow breath and went to sit.

“Ha!” Ned folded his letter with a flourish. “All done now. I’m a free man! Too bad Silas the do-gooder balks at me bringing my moonshine. I’d pass the jug around. Even let you have a swig, you little cuss.” He tweaked Anthony’s ear.

Anthony yanked free and glared.

“How’re you free?” Lynville tried to grab the letter Ned brandished.

Ned smacked him in the back of the head with the paper before stuffing it into his chest pocket. “Done divorced her. Now who’s in the worse position, eh? Helga—that’s who. Who’ll want her? Now I can get myself a woman to—”

Silas cleared his throat. “My boy’s present.”

With a quick eye roll, Ned dropped into his customary chair and hiked a dirt-laden boot onto the table. He leaned back with his hands behind his head. “The hag don’t know what done hit her.” He guffawed.

Jedidiah gave him a courtesy chuckle. The rest of them kept their mouths shut. Everyone avoided encouraging Ned to rant about Helga. Trying to talk decency into the man was a waste of breath. Hadn’t done a lick of good anytime before.

Did he really think he’d pulled one over on her? Sure, most women didn’t wish for the stigma of divorce . . . unless she’d been abused like his wife. Helga was probably laughing right along with Ned right now, but with joy.

Lynville grabbed a pawn and pointed it at Silas. “You gonna read your letter or play?”

“It’s probably for Anthony.” He looked at his son, who frowned at him. “Do you want to read it now or later?”

“Now.” Anthony glanced at the four men around the table. “Not enough people for me to play anyway.”

“I think Micah’s coming. He’s in town for a few days.” Lynville turned the board to set up the white pieces on his side.

Silas tore the flap and took out two letters, Kate’s flowery penmanship flowing across both pages. One for him, one for Anthony. The jitters in his stomach resembled a hoedown. He handed Anthony his and stared at the other. A good thing he’d long ago asked Ned not to bring along any more of his paint-stripping moonshine. He might have tempted fate and sacrificed his throat to the awful stuff.

With a shaky hand, Silas pocketed his letter. He couldn’t read it now; the men might get curious enough to ask why he couldn’t wait until home to read what Anthony’s teacher wrote.

Lynville realigned his pawns, Jedidiah poured peanuts into
a bowl, and Ned stared at the ceiling with a satisfied grin while Silas worked to squeeze out the desire to find himself a whiskey, a tonic, something to take home with him to—

“Miss Dawson’s coming!” Anthony squeaked.

Silas’s fingers dug into the chair arms.

“Who’s coming?” Lynville grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl before Jedidiah placed them in the middle of the table.

“My teacher.”

Had he ever seen Anthony smile like that?

“To visit?” Ned smashed a peanut against the table with his fist, then swept the shell pieces onto the floor. “For Christmas?”

Anthony shrugged. “Didn’t say anything about Christmas. Sounds like she’s coming now.”

If she was coming while school was still in session . . . Silas worked to breathe like a sane man.

Micah burst in the door. “I’ve brought beef!” The smell of smoked meat heavily doused in garlic from his father’s butcher shop filled the room. The men flocked to Micah.

Silas tipped his head toward the men. “You getting some, Anthony?”

His son stared at him for a bit, likely wanting his reaction to Kate’s coming, but he’d barely managed to utter that last question. Finally, Anthony stood. “I guess I could eat again.” He ambled over to the counter and Jedidiah handed him a tin plate.

With no one paying him any mind, Silas unfolded Kate’s letter and slumped in his chair to see the letter under the table. The shadows made it difficult to read, but he wasn’t about to let anybody read over his shoulder.

Silas,

I’ve decided to come. I figured we could talk about arrangements once I arrive. By the time you receive this letter, I should be on my way. I arrive on the 11th.

Sincerely, Kate Dawson

Micah plopped down in the chair beside him, and Silas rammed the letter under his leg.

“You not eating?” Micah waved a fork at him.

Lynville took the seat across from Micah, his plate piled high. “Mind if I play Micah first?”

Silas rolled his tongue around in his mouth a time or two to make sure it was wet enough to work. “I’ll play Anthony. Make sure he remembers the rules.”

Arrangements.
What would she want? A wedding immediately? Where would they all sleep? He’d only just started working on Anthony’s bed frame. He’d have to work faster. He smoothed his hand over his beard, trying to stem the grin threatening to rearrange his face.

While the men busily munched, he read the letter again. She hadn’t said anything about marrying, just coming.

Despite the north wind snaking through the cracks in the walls, Silas wiped the sweat off the back of his neck repeatedly. Trying to focus on his game strategy.

“You going to move?” His son huffed and grabbed more peanuts.

“I’m afraid I . . .” He swallowed and tried to remember his plan for his rook.

Fear.
That’s what had agitated him since leaving Missouri and now wound through his belly and radiated out his every limb. Not worry over whether he should have proposed, not wondering if Kate should reject him, not fretting about Anthony turning out all right.

He was out-and-out scared. She could get their hopes up and
decide not to marry him at the last minute. She could be just as disappointed with this winter’s meager provisions as Lucy had been with anything involving his homestead. She could go through with the wedding and keep herself guarded against his affections while he lost his heart.

Should he do anything to protect himself against the hurt she could cause them?

Chapter 16

“Would you mind having a seat, miss?” The young porter, his red freckles bright against his nearly translucent skin, sighed with exasperation. “The passengers are complaining about you again. They need to get around too.”

Stuck on a train with nowhere to run, Kate had been compensating by pacing—for hours. “Is Salt Flatts the next stop?”

“Yes, miss.”

She shook her head. How could she possibly sit when she was this close to seeing Silas again? Would she see what she wanted to see in his eyes the moment she stepped off the train? If she didn’t, did that mean her plans should change or—

“Miss?” The porter’s eyes narrowed. Would he dare wrestle her into a seat?

She blew out a breath and pivoted. She tromped back to sit and grabbed the armrests as her anchor.

She’d spent her savings for the train ride. Salt Flatts was her only option now. So why did her gut refuse to believe that? Her sister and husband surely never wanted to see her again, even if she groveled—which she wouldn’t.

Aiden had likely taken a wife already, not that he’d want her back. And she still wouldn’t marry Jasper, even if he offered her all the paint in the world.

And most importantly, Anthony needed her.

She’d been brave enough to cross the country once to marry a complete stranger, so why did her feet refuse to stay still when she was headed to a man she felt something for?

“Miss, please.” The blond woman beside her squeezed her arm. “You’re shaking the entire seat. I can’t read.”

“Sorry.” Kate clamped her legs together, but within seconds her knees shook again.

The young lady huffed and glared at Kate’s skirt until she got her legs under control.

What was the woman reading? Maybe if she talked to her about books, she’d forget about the shaking.

Gold letters embossed the bright green cloth cover:
Shakespearean Sonnets.

What did Shakespeare know about real life anyway? Romeo and Juliet fell in love, married, and died for each other in less than a week. She’d known Silas four times as long and wasn’t sure what she felt for him . . . besides jitters.

A month was not enough time to know someone. Though the other times she’d run off to get married, she hadn’t bothered to think through her decision longer than a day.

Where was the courage she’d possessed on her last train trip? She even knew the groom this time. Silas was caring, wanted her to raise the child she loved, kissed like—

“Are you all right?” The blond lady leaned over to see her better.

“No.” Kate grabbed the cheap fan she’d bought several stations back and fanned her rapidly heating face.

Her seat partner laid her sonnets in her lap. “You’re agitated about something.”

That was an understatement.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No thank you.” She couldn’t even look at the woman. If she did, the lady would note the high color in her cheeks and figure out exactly what was wrong with her.

“Could you stop fidgeting and swishing, then? I can’t concentrate with you all aflutter over there.”

Aflutter.
That was definitely the right word for the heart palpitations that took over when she relived Silas’s kiss. Which she desperately needed to stop doing if she was going to make a good, logical decision this time. Though being on the way to marry a stranger again basically proved she wasn’t capable of sound reasoning. Oh why couldn’t she have been mature for once and found a way to wait to make a decision no one would call into question?

But he had kissed her like he meant it . . . though so had Aiden.

Maybe she should have saved her money and found a job in Breton, but who would’ve hired her after her public disgrace? And no one lived there whom she cared for anyway, at least not in the same way she cared for Anthony.

Maybe being on a train, headed to the boy she loved and a man she had feelings for wasn’t the most unreasonable thing in the world to do.

And she really, really wanted Silas to be Prince Charming.

But what if he wasn’t?

“Are you sure you’re all right?” The lady’s voice seemed genuinely concerned this time. “You’re crying.”

Blinking, Kate swiped away the errant moisture. “I’m not.” She clenched the seat’s arms to keep from bolting down the aisle.

She’d make sure Silas had the property he claimed to have, and if she didn’t uncover any faults beyond the ones he’d admitted
to—if he’d indeed told her the truth about everything—could she tie her feet down with a wedding ring for Anthony’s sake and the hope of something more?