His Brother's Bride (3 page)

Her fellow travelers were entering the stage, so she handed her satchels up to the driver. She would wait until the very last minute to board herself. The thought of three more days on the stage was almost as daunting as the thought of returning home to her uncle.

“Board!” the driver called as he hoisted himself up onto his seat.

She reluctantly stepped up into the stage and took the only seat left, the uncoveted middle bench. She settled the folds of her skirt and tried to avoid the gaze of the man who sat across from her.

The stage jerked forward as the horses were spurred on. A clatter at the side of her stage caught her attention. She looked out the window and saw a wagon pulled alongside the stage.

“Stop the stage!”

The words came from Cade, who balanced on the edge of his seat as if willing to cut the stage's horses off with his own.

The stage slowed to a stop. The curses from the driver were muffled by the roof over her head.

“Whatever's the trouble?” Miss Donahue asked.

A man behind her sighed. “We're already behind schedule.”

But Emily's mind spun with confusion. What was Cade up to? What if he'd changed his mind about paying for the stage? She would be stranded here with nothing, with no one.

Her traveling companions watched as Cade leaped off his wagon bench and hurried to the stage door.

“Oh!” Miss Donahue said.

The door flung open. His gaze darted around the stage and settled on hers. She saw a twitch of surprise and realized the last time he'd seen her she'd been a filthy mess.

“Can I have a word with you in private, Miss Wagner?”

“Well, I—”

“Get off and let us be on our way,” one man said.

“I'm not leaving until I have a word with her.” His gaze didn't leave hers.

Emily, drawn by the intensity of his gaze, began to rise.

“Then say your peace and be done with it,” said someone behind her.

“Yeah, Mister, you're holding us up.”

Emily settled back in the seat and tried to read his face.

“Very well.” He removed his hat and looked down at where his foot was perched on the door ledge.

His gaze found hers again. “Look, Miss Wagner, it's like this. You came here needing a husband, a home. My brother can't offer that for you anymore.”

Emily's heart stomped a hoedown in her chest. Her stomach tightened.

“I need a wife. My son needs a ma.”

Out the corner of her eye she saw Miss Donahue's fan begin fluttering.

“We don't have much to offer.” He looked down again, and Emily's throat constricted. “But we have a home where you'd be welcomed.”

Emily could scarcely believe it. It was an answer to her
prayers. Cade was a godly man; she knew that from
Thomas's
letters. He would be a good husband to her. She opened her mouth.

“Before you say anything­­­—” He stopped and took in their rapt audience.

Emily, too, glanced around her. Miss Donahue leaned forward, her fan twitching erratically. One impatient man rolled his eyes, and two of the men in the back stared unabashedly, their arms crossed impatiently. She looked back at Cade.

“This could solve both our problems. I need to explain a few things, though—”

“Enough already!” the impatient man said. He glared at Emily. “Answer the man and be done with it.”

Her body felt weightless, and her mouth went dry. “I. . .” She looked at Cade. “I—yes, I accept your offer.”

She heard Miss Donahue draw in a sharp breath.

A smile spread wide across Cade's face. “I'm honored, Miss Wagner.” He held out a hand and assisted her off.

“Get your own bags,” the driver snapped.

Cade hefted down her satchels and set them at her feet as the stage lurched away.

“Best of luck to you!” Miss Donahue called out the window.

Emily turned to Cade, her face growing warm under his gaze.

“I'd like to find Reverend Hill and get this settled tonight, if that's agreeable to you.”

She nodded.

He walked her to his wagon and set her satchels in the wooden bed. As he helped her onto the bench and walked around to mount up beside her, Emily couldn't stop the glimmer of hope that spread like sweet honey in her veins.

Three

Reverend Hill winked at Cade. “You may kiss your bride.”

Emily felt her face flood with heat as her new husband leaned toward her. His lips touched her warm cheek, and she pushed away a niggle of disappointment. He might be her husband, but they had only met today, after all. Still, she was not so naïve that she didn't know the intimacy they would share tonight. The heat in her face flooded outward to her ears, and she hoped they didn't glow red.

“Congratulations, Dear,” Mrs. Hill, who'd graciously served as their witness, said. “You're most welcome to come back to the house with us; I made two pies this morning.”

“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Hill,” Cade said. “But I need to get back to Adam.”

After they bade farewell to the older couple, Cade helped Emily onto the wagon bench, and they made their way to the farm. On the way there, Cade told her about Adam. Emily already knew he was five, and she was looking forward to taking care of him. She laughed when he told her Adam's favorite activity was playing in the dirt with sticks. “He's right fond of his marbles too,” he said.

He told her about their farm. They had a milking cow, chickens, pigs, and the two horses that pulled the wagon. He was a wheat farmer, and they had a garden to the side of the house where she would grow corn, tomatoes, onions, and anything else she wanted to plant.

Cade seemed relaxed and serious as he spoke. But excitement stirred within Emily. She was a married woman now. Tonight, she and Cade would begin their lives as husband and wife. Soon, she would carry a child of her own, and her heart yearned for it. Not that she wouldn't love Adam; she thought she would love him as her own. But everything in her longed to carry a baby within her womb, to deliver a son or daughter and nurse the babe at her breast. And she wanted lots of children. She wanted a house full of laughter and teasing like she'd had as a child.

Cade turned the horses onto another road. “This is it.”

The long road was packed dirt with tall grass on both sides. In the distance, a two-story white clapboard house sat, flanked by a barn on one side and a grove of trees on the other.

As they pulled up to the house, a boy burst through the door, followed by a petite woman with lovely dark hair. Immediately, Emily cringed as she thought of her own haphazard appearance.

“Pa!” Adam hardly waited for the wagon to stop before he clambered up into Cade's lap for a hug. “Who's she?”

“Adam, where's your manners?”

Cade introduced her as Emily but didn't mention she was his new wife. Emily figured it was probably best to wait until they were at least in the house before telling the boy.

He introduced the other woman as Sara McClain, a neighbor, and the two women exchanged pleasantries. Emily knew the woman must have wondered who she was and why she'd come to Cade's home, but to her credit, she didn't pry.

After the horses were put up and Mrs. McClain left, Cade took her into the house. Immediately, she could tell it was a man's home. There were no fripperies or bric-a-brac lying around. The furniture looked sturdy, but the room seemed almost barren. It was, however, recently swept. Probably by Mrs. McClain, she guessed.

After she'd looked around, she noticed Cade was speaking to Adam. “So now she's going to live here with us.”

Adam glanced at Emily, and she smiled tenderly. “I hope we can be friends, Adam.”

“I already have lots of friends.” A thoughtful frown puckered his brow. His eyes were an expressive blue, and she watched as they studied her seriously. “I don't have a ma, though.”

Emily's heart caught at the innocent expression on the boy's face. She sensed Cade going still at Adam's side. Was he afraid Adam would forget his real mother? Emily didn't want to do anything to hurt Cade, but the boy clearly longed for a ma.

She squatted down to his level. “You don't have a ma, and know what? I don't have a little boy. Maybe we can kind of fill the gap for each other. Would that be all right?”

Her gaze darted up to Cade's. He seemed to approve.

“Do you know how to play marbles?” Adam asked.

“No, I surely don't. Perhaps you can teach me.”

Adam nodded. “Okay. I can teach you what boys do, and you can show me what a ma does.”

Emily held out her hand, her heart squeezing tightly. “It's a deal.”

Later that night, as Emily and Cade tucked Adam into bed, she hugged the boy. The straw ticking crackled with the movement. “Good night, Adam. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Emily.”

She left the room, leaving Cade to say good night, and made her way down the stairs to clean up the mess from supper. As she pumped water into the basin, her thoughts drifted to the man upstairs.
My husband,
she thought, a giddy feeling racing through her. Thomas's brother. It was strange, how it had all happened. While her heart ached with the loss of her dear friend, she was married to his brother.

She shook her head, willing away the sadness over her loss. She had a husband and child now to look after.
And a treasure map to find.

She chased the thought away. She wouldn't think of it now. Tonight was for her and her new husband to become one. Heat simmered in her belly as she considered what lay ahead for her. Her mother had told her very little on the subject, but what she had shared with Emily left her anticipating the night ahead. If she could only settle her nerves. She wondered how long it would take her to conceive. She hoped it would be soon.

She scrubbed the crust of okra from the pan and rinsed it under a flow of cold water. She heard a floorboard creak above her head and knew Cade must be leaving Adam's room. Her belly tightened as she anticipated his appearance.

She began scrubbing another pan and tried to calm herself. By the time she'd finished the dishes and dumped the water, Cade had still not joined her. Wasn't he coming back down? Maybe he was waiting for her to join him. Warmth kindled in her stomach, and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned over the kitchen lamp and blew out the flame.

❧

Cade threw the last pair of trousers from the armoire into the bag at his feet and sat on the edge of his bed. All his personal belongings were ready to be moved into Adam's room. Emily's bags were still downstairs, and he needed to bring them up for her. He would let her have this room, and he would sleep in Adam's bed, as he'd just told him. His son had been tickled pink.

He would have to go back downstairs, but he needed a few minutes to gather himself. It felt awkward having a woman in the house again. And not just any woman, but his wife. Not in the true sense of the word, he reminded himself.

He looked at the bed where he and Ingrid had spent many cold nights huddled together beneath the covers. It had brought him some comfort over the past five years to sleep in this bed, as if he could recapture her here. But now, Emily would sleep here, and he would have to leave Ingrid behind. He knew it was time. Past time. Five years was too long to hold on to someone who was gone.

A tap sounded on the door. Emily probably needed her things brought up to her room. He stood, walked to the door, and turned the metal knob.

Emily stood on the threshold, a vision in white. A smile trembled on her lips. The simple nightgown she wore was modest, but his face grew warm, and his gaze dropped to the floor. There, ten bare toes peeked from beneath a white lace hem. His mouth felt suddenly dry.

❧

Emily forced her eyes to meet Cade's when he opened the door. Everything in her wanted to turn and flee. Her breath came so rapidly that her chest heaved beneath the gown.

His eyes widened, his jaw went slack, then he looked down. He was embarrassed, she sensed it instinctively, and it only served to embarrass her further. Should she have waited for him to come to her?

His body blocked the door and she wondered why he did
n't move to let her in. She should say something, anything. “Is Adam settled?”

He nodded, though his gaze avoided hers. “He's fine.”

Silence filled the hallway again. “Supper's all cleaned up.”

He nodded. “Good, good. Find everything all right?”

“Yes.” Her skin was growing warmer by the minute beneath the gown. She felt flushed and wondered if he could tell. No, he would have to look at her to tell, and he was looking anywhere but at her. Wasn't he going to take the lead? Isn't that what husbands were supposed to do? She bit the inside of her cheek. She would just have to say it. “May I come in?”

He looked at her then. His eyes widened again ever so slightly, and his lips parted as if he were about to speak. Instead, he stepped aside. Far aside, giving her a wide berth.

She stepped through the door into the small room. One lantern by the bed cast a dim light in the room. Shadows danced across the quilted bedspread, across the wooden floors. The room was clean and sparse, even more so than the rest of the house, so her eyes went automatically to the bags that sat on the floor. Clothes spilled from one bag while the other was topped with a daguerreotype in a wooden frame. The woman in the picture stared somberly back at her.

His things were all bundled up together there on the floor. She cast another glance around the room. There wasn't a single item on the armoire or night table. Her gaze found the bags on the floor, then Cade's face. He'd packed up all his things. But why? A cold dread settled heavily in her stomach.

“I thought you might be more comfortable in here.”

In here? Of course she'd be more comfortable in here; where else would she go? The barn? She searched his face, but his eyes were avoiding hers.

“I'm fixin' to move to Adam's room.”

Confusion muddled her mind. He wasn't sleeping here? He was moving out? But why? Her thoughts tumbled back to the scene on the stagecoach—mere hours ago.
Before you say anything. . .I have some things to explain. . . .

Is this what he'd wanted to explain on the stage? That he wanted a marriage in name only? He should have told her so right then and there!

She'd come to him wanting their marriage to start right. She'd come to him wanting to please him. She'd come here. . . .

She looked down at herself, clothed in a thin nightgown, and remembered the way he'd averted his gaze upon opening the door. Her skin grew warm until she thought she might glow. She'd all but thrown herself at him, and he didn't want her. She was mortified.

She bolted past him, wanting to escape the stifling room.

He grabbed her arm as she passed. “Emily.” There was gentle coaxing in his voice.

“Let go.”
Lord, please just let me melt in a puddle and sink through these floorboards.

“I'm sorry, I thought you understood.”

She looked away from him—couldn't bear to let him see her face.
What a brazen woman he must think me, coming to him dressed so.

“I tried to explain on the stage,” he rasped. “But the others. . .”

Her legs felt weak, and she wondered that they supported her at all. His grasp gentled on her arm, and the skin beneath it felt so feverishly hot.

“It's not you, it's—I just can't. I'm sorry.”

Her eyes stung, and she knew tears would soon follow. She would not let him see her cry. Hadn't she humiliated herself enough this night? She gave a nod and tore away from him, dashing through the door and down the stairs. She wanted to run outside and keep going until she had no breath left in her. She settled for the porch instead.

The door creaked behind her as she closed it softly. Her eyes still stung, though they were as dry as the prairie after a long, hot summer. She walked on wobbly legs to the porch swing and dropped into it.
Please, Lord, don't let him follow me out here.

She'd never in her life been so humiliated. What had possessed her to go to him that way? They were strangers, she and Cade. No matter that they'd been joined in holy matrimony, they'd only met that very day.
Who am I to presume what he wants? Perhaps he finds me repulsive.

Her heart caught at the thought. The hollow ache in her stomach filled with pain. She wasn't very comely, she knew that. Her uncle had reminded her often enough.

She remembered the daguerreotype she'd seen in Cade's room. The woman—his former wife—had been lovely. She'd had golden hair and petite features. And those haunting eyes.

What did Emily have? Drab brown hair and plain features. She must look as appealing to him as a garden weed. She crossed her arms, feeling exposed. The night air had grown chilly, but it felt good against her warm skin. She wanted to stay out here all night. She wanted to stay out here forever.

How would she ever face him again? She'd come to his room practically begging.

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about it anymore. It was beyond humiliating. She was his wife now—even if in name only—and she had a job. She still had to find the treasure map for Uncle Stewart. She still had to take care of Adam.