An Inconvenient Bride

by Blythe Carver

  While she knew this was all purely conjecture, Holly’s heart clenched at the thought of her beloved Edward suffering so. He’d be so frightened, so alone. The very idea made her want to bundle him in her arms and refuse to let him go.

  “I did try to suggest he live here, instead,” she whispered, recalling the shame and frustration of their last argument.

  “You did?” Phoebe whispered, aghast.

  “Well?” Holly demanded, looking around the room. “I had to do something. We all agree it’s a terrible idea to take on such a challenge, when his life is demanding enough. He is quite gifted in the training and caring of horses. I thought perhaps there might be a place for him here. Edward would not need to be alone.”

  “I love the idea,” Cate beamed. “He could live here, in the house! With us!”

  “Wait right there,” Molly murmured, shaking her head. “This is a great deal of conjecture for no reason. I take it he refused you.”

  “He did. Quite sternly.”

  “You could change his mind,” Cate suggested.

  “You only want the baby to stay,” Phoebe pointed out.

  “And there will be a baby to take care of soon enough,” Molly reminded her.

  “We can surely manage two babies at once,” Cate assured them both. “There are five of us, for heaven’s sake!”

  “There is no need to discuss it, since it is never going to happen,” Holly said, bringing the conversation to a halt. Their faces fell, and she could see how they agreed with her. Edward should not be brought up alone. It would be too much.

  “What of Roan?” Phoebe picked Edward up and placed him on the bed, where he crawled gleefully to Holly. She bundled him up, kissing the top of his head. If only she could keep him always.

  “What of him?” she asked, careful to keep her eyes on the child. This was not an innocent question, especially when it came from Phoebe. Her thoughts were always on romance, and marriage had not dulled her sensibilities in the least.

  “He’s terribly handsome,” she pointed out.

  “Thank you. I spent the last two weeks never once having looked at him, so…”

  Molly laughed. “Your tone tells me you’re trying to conceal something.”

  “And doing a terrible job of it,” Rachel giggled.

  “Excuse me, but were you not in my shoes not so very long ago?” Holly demanded, turning her attention to her most recently wed sister. “I seem to recall asking about your feelings toward Mason, and you were having none of it. I’d think you would feel sympathy for me if nothing else.”

  “Oh, I do,” Rachel nodded with a gleam in her eyes. “And I also know I was wasting time pretending I cared nothing for him.”

  Holly sighed, her cheek against Edward’s head. He had fallen asleep on her shoulder as he was wont to do. Such sweetness. She would have to live without it.

  “In my case,” she whispered, “I am wasting time by caring for him. He cares nothing for me, or for any woman. He’s told me so on numerous occasions. He wishes nothing more than to live his life alone. Always.”

  “Isn’t that the way many men feel before meeting the woman they’re destined to love?” Molly asked. “I’d wager if you were to ask Lewis, he would tell you straight out that he’d never considered marriage before our meeting.”

  “And even then,” Cate giggled. “I’m sure marriage was the last thing on his mind when you first met, knowing you.”

  Molly stuck her tongue out at her sister. “Thank you very much,” she replied tartly.

  “I won’t beg him. I already reached out to him and tried to make him understand that—”

  Phoebe shook her head, with the expression of a woman believed herself to be an expert on the subject after being married for mere months. “Did you tell him you love him?”

  Hollies cheeks flushed. “That is very presumptuous of you.”

  “Just the same. Did you?”

  Holly shook her head, crestfallen. No sense in hiding it from them when they knew her so well. “No, of course not. He doesn’t even like me. I should never have allowed this to happen, and I blame no one but myself.”

  “Blame? What is there to blame you for?” Molly scowled in that special way of hers. “There is no helping what our hearts lead us to. You have clearly found something in him worthy of your love and esteem. Try as one might, it is impossible to simply close one’s eyes to what their heart is trying to tell them. I’m sure the offer you made was made with love, nothing but care and concern for him. But it was not enough.”

  “From what you have already described, he is a very proud man.” Rachel was no longer teasing. “A proud man would take your offer as an insult. Didn’t he?”

  Holly nodded, miserable. “Did he ever,” she murmured.

  “I’d be willing to bet it’s because you didn’t tell him this was something you wished for,” Cate mused. “Rather than saying you were offering because you care for him, and because you want him near you, you offered as a… business proposition.”

  “What of it?” Holly argued, now incensed that even her youngest sister had seen through her. “I want what is best for Edward. And for Roan, of course. He did so much for me. I hate to think of him spending the rest of his life alone, and with the child to raise.”

  “Because you love him,” Molly whispered.

  “Yes, yes. All right? Is that what you want to hear? Yes, I do love him. But I will not allow him to hurt me again.”

  Cate fairly growled as she jumped up from the bed. “He hurt you? How?” Her hands tightened into fists.

  Holly shook her head. “Not the way you mean. By rejecting me, he caused me quite a great deal of pain. I cannot let him know it, though. I would rather avoid him ever finding out.”

  “Why?” Phoebe asked.

  “Why do you think? Because he would only reject me again!” When she looked around and found nearly identical expressions of confusion, she could have screamed. “It is very nice for you, isn’t it? Things worked out so well, and relatively easily. Certainly, you had challenges to overcome, and you have,” she added, looking around at her married sisters.

  “I, on the other hand, am in an entirely different situation. He refuses to live the sort of life we do. He’s a mountain man, born and raised, and he wants nothing to do with any other sort of life. Or people, in general. He’s spent little time with them, and I suspect that the time he has spent has not been pleasant. I can only imagine how it frayed his nerves, facing all of you.”

  “Pardon me if my heart does not break for him. It sounds as though he needs a great deal of reason knocked into his head,” Molly mused, chewing her lip. “He has a child to think about now. Not only himself.”

  “See? That is exactly what I hoped he would consider when I made my offer.”

  “Then, perhaps you need to rephrase it. Ask him to consider Edward.”

  “I did! Yet he merely dug his heels in deeper and refused to budge. We have hardly spoken a word to each other since then.”

  Cate came to her, stroking her hair as she stroked Edward’s. “That pained you greatly, didn’t it? I can sense it.”

  Holly tried to smile and failed. “It did. It still has. Don’t you see? If he wanted me in any way, would he not take the opportunity for us to be together? Now, it seems he cannot wait to be rid of me. He would not even consider my offer. I admit, I understand why. I’ve been nothing but trouble to him from the start.”

  “That hardly seems to be the case from where I’m standing,” Rachel disagreed. “Were it not for you, he would have been driven to distraction by a sick sister and a child too young to care for himself. You shouldered that burden for him. You made his sister as comfortable as you could, and you have obviously cared for Edward as if he were your own. Anyone with eyes can see you love him already.”

  Holly did not offer a reply to this, but instead held Edward just a bit tighter.

  Phoebe sighed, rising from the chair by the bed. “We had better let you rest,” s
he suggested with a nod to the rest of her sisters. “I will call you down for supper.”

  Cate shed only a single tear as she bent to kiss Holly’s forehead. For her, that was quite an achievement. “I shall spend the time before supper offering prayers of thanks for your return,” she whispered.

  Rachel took her by the arm, pulling her from the room. “Yes, and while you do that you can assist in preparing supper. We will have a feast tonight, and we can use every pair of hands.”

  “Then I should be helping, too,” Holly reasoned.

  Molly shook her head with a loving smile, the last to leave the room. “Not when the feast is in your honor.” She winked before closing the door.

  This left Holly alone with a sleeping Edward, who she laid on the bed beside her. At least she had this short time with him, just the two of them.

  She could not help but wish for a minute or two alone with Roan, as well.

  But she had given up wishing when she was a little girl, as it got her nowhere.

  She and Roan were simply not meant to be.

  22

  Roan could hardly believe his eyes as he took in the sight of one covered platter for another, stretching the length of the sideboard along the dining room. A fine room, papered in silk and filled with heavy, well-made furniture he suspected had cost Mr. Reed quite dearly. The cloth along the table was of the finest lace which he barely felt worthy to touch.

  Rance, Phoebe’s husband, the Sheriff of Carson City, chuckled at Roan’s reaction to the way the girls had set their table. “They certainly killed the fatted calf for you and Holly tonight,” he observed.

  This answered Roan’s question, one which he would not have dared voice. He’d wondered for a moment whether they always put on a display.

  A foolish thing to suspect, as naturally, the girls want to prepare a grand meal to celebrate their sister’s return.

  Rance surprised him by extending a hand to shake. “We are all very grateful to you, Mr. MacIntosh. You did a grand thing by sheltering Holly as you did. I hate to think how the story might have turned out differently were it someone else who found her and not yourself.”

  There was no helping the brief flash of memory, recalling the night he’d disposed of the man who’d forced his way into the shack.

  “I would not underestimate her,” Roan replied with a grim smile. “She has quite a bit of strength.”

  “They all do,” Mason Murphy agreed as he joined them, handing both men a glass of whiskey. “They would stop at nothing to help each other.”

  Yes, Roan could see that clearly. The five sisters were so close, he questioned whether they would be able to live separately once their year of being forced to live on the ranch was through.

  He raised the whiskey to his nose and appreciated the scent. It was fine, no doubt about it. Just like everything else in the house. Whether or not those occupying it realized their good fortune or not.

  “I suspect this makes you a hero in their eyes,” Rance warned him.

  Roan winced. “I have never been anyone’s idea of a hero,” he admitted before savoring a sip of the amber liquid. He was glad for it, as he needed a bit of bolstering.

  “You wear it well, along with Lewis’s clothing.” Mason nodded approvingly. “I understand you helped a mare foal today.”

  “Yes, she had a difficult time of it, but the foal is a healthy one, and both of them are doing well now.” Unfortunately, his clothing had been ruined by the mare’s blood and other fluids. He’d hardly been prepared for such activity, and he had certainly not planned on spending the night at the ranch. He’d arrived with nothing more than the clothing on his back.

  It was a good thing, then, that he and Lewis were built roughly the same. He could not help but tug a bit at the collar of his starched, white shirt. He was unaccustomed to such close-fitting collars and wondered how these men managed to go through their day without feeling like they were being choked.

  Molly entered from the kitchen. For a moment, he thought she was Holly, and his heart betrayed him by leaping in his chest. “Phoebe has just gone up to fetch Holly, and we can sit down to eat. Mr. MacIntosh, I hope we have prepared the food to your liking.”

  His stomach rumbled as if in response. “I’m sure that no matter what you have taken the time to prepare, I will enjoy. Your sister can tell you that I live quite simply, so anything more involved than squirrel stew or fried corn mush is a delicacy.”

  Molly eyed him from across the room, and he sensed that her opinion of him was favorable. “You’re quite well spoken. I do not mean that as an insult—I realize it might have sounded a bit backhanded—but from my experience, men who live alone in the mountains do not often speak so eloquently.”

  He told himself that she did not mean to speak down to him. She, like her sisters, seemed a fair and honest sort.

  “My father was well educated before he came to this country from Scotland. His family was nobility, or so he told me. I would not know where to begin learning whether or not this was true. I have no intention of doing so, as it matters little to me. My life is here, you see. But he insisted upon passing his education down to me.”

  “Wise of him, I would reckon.” Lewis helped Molly into her chair before pulling out his own. “Too often, trappers are taken advantage of by the merchants they trade with.”

  “Too right you are,” Roan muttered, remembering several such men who’d tried to take advantage of him. The memory of the surprise they’d shown upon discovering he was no illiterate wastrel never failed to make him smile.

  He was smiling still when Holly joined them.

  His smile dissolved like snow falling on water. He forgot how to breathe. She was that beautiful, newly scrubbed and dressed in fresh clothing.

  And such clothing, too. He suspected she’d chosen her prettiest gown for the occasion, deep red velvet with ribbon trimming the collar and sleeves. It fastened at her throat with a jeweled cameo which sparkled when it caught the light, nestled in a thick bunch of lace.

  Her hair shone, brushed and braided and coiled around the back of her head. She carried it like a queen would carry a crown, though she appeared a great deal prouder of the child she held in one arm.

  How he wished she had not taken to Edward so well. How he wished the sight of her carrying him as if it were something she did every day and would continue to do did not tug at his heart.

  His treacherous heart, reminding him time and again how delightful it would be if she were his.

  Perhaps not always easy, perhaps not always even very pleasant, but delightful.

  Her eyes traveled the length of the table, and widened when they found him. “Roan, you look…”

  “Doesn’t he look grand?” Cate asked, clasping her hands together. “While I am sorry your handsome garments were ruined, you do look quite fine dressed as you are now, as well.”

  He doubted that he looked very fine at all. He was willing to smile and accept her praise, sensing that she was a goodhearted girl who simply felt everything too strongly. Just the way Holly had described her.

  “Thank you,” he remembered to say. It was important to remind himself of the social niceties now, when surrounded by such generous people. He was out of practice, as evidenced by the way he forgot to rise and pull Holly’s chair back from the table.

  “You do look quite fine,” Holly agreed in a soft whisper, smiling just for him.

  He was glad, then, that he’d forced himself into a pair of trousers and was nearly choking thanks to his collar. She thought he looked well, though he doubted he looked half as grand as she did.

  “Would you like to…?” she murmured, nodding to the child she sat on her lap. She was asking if he wished to hold Edward, to see to his being fed.

  He wondered at what the correct answer would be, then chose to answer with his heart. “You might hold him,” he suggested. “I will have so much time with him when we are gone.”

  Her face crumpled with pain for the briefest mom
ent, no longer than the blink of an eye. He suspected no one noticed but him.

  She was only saddened because of the child, not because of him. He took pains to remember this as they began their meal of roast beef and boiled potatoes, creamed peas, and stewed squash. Fresh bread. Homemade applesauce.

  “And for dessert, we’ve baked cherry pie. Holly’s favorite,” Phoebe explained with a fond smile toward her sister.

  “Perhaps I ought to get myself kidnapped more often,” Holly laughed, causing everyone to laugh along with her.

  Including Roan, who could not help but notice how easy it was to laugh with all of them. And how nice it felt to be part of something, perhaps for the first time in his life.

  After their gluttonous meal and a glass of brandy with the men, he stepped out onto the porch for a breath of fresh air. Pleasant as the company was, as much as he found himself enjoying it, he needed time and space away from them.

  He looked up at the sky, spangled with stars just as it had been the night before and every other night before then. Even when clouds covered them, the stars were still there.

  And they looked the same, though nothing in this place was the same as where he had just left. There was love here, and family. Civilized conversation. Manners and fine things, yes, but also honesty. Decency. Friendliness.

  There had been no need for anyone to invite him to supper, or to spend the night in the house. The men had not needed to be so welcoming, nor had the women. They might have treated him as nothing more than what he was; a stranger to them, a stranger to their ways and their lives. Someone with whom he shared only one thing in common. Holly.

  And soon, he would not even share that. Soon she would be out of his life forever

  Now that he’d taken the time to explore the house and ask questions as to the ranch and how it ran, he knew one thing with greater certainty that he had ever known it before.

  He had nothing to offer her. What would a woman of her means and her background want to do with someone like him?

  Yes, he was an intelligent man. He knew this. Yet he was intelligent compared to other trappers, some of whom had never bothered learning to read or write. His education in these areas, therefore, elevated him above those men.