Without a second thought, Elena scurried away from the platform and walked until she came to one of the pillars at the depot. She stood behind, trying desperately to still her heart that beat with a wild abandon.
Not him.
Unable to still this something, a thing that was very feminine and very nosey, which seemed to take over her body, she peered around the wide pillar. Her eyes latched onto the man who stepped onto the platform.
Not him.
He couldn’t be her potential groom, could he? Though she’d never met him until this day, the man seemed to scream all the elements of being her mail order mate without having to say a word.
Was he Tobias Clayborne? She reached into her reticule and pulled out his letter. Fingers slightly shaking, she read his description of himself: six feet tall with black hair, blue eyes, and an average build.
The picture he’d portrayed with those words had put her at ease. She expected Tobias Clayborne had little to make him attractive. Any man who accepted a request for a marriage of convenience, knowing it would be of short duration at that, who had her express permission to seek satisfaction elsewhere as long as he remained discreet, should be someone who lacked in appreciable physical attributes.
Not him.
Instead of a groom she could forget, this man was extremely memorable. Broad shoulders and a lean build that carried an air of leashed power. His hair, underneath the sweat brim of his hat, gleamed in the sunlight. It ended at his angular chin, dusted with a small growth of beard. The square jawline, the thin strip of a mustache above a pair of firm lips drew attention to that something within him that screamed masculinity.
Even more appealing were his eyes. They were light-blue and piercing through the dark, broad eyebrows. She was too far away to feel the impact of his gaze but she sensed if she stood a mere ten feet closer, his gaze would peel back all the layers of her mind and try to delve inside of her soul.
Elena groaned and pressed herself back against the wall.
This just became more difficult.
How could she enter into a marriage of convenience with a man like this? Tobias Clayborne could tempt the holiest of women to negate her vows.
His attractiveness spurred more questions. Questions she had pondered on but hadn’t really cared for the answers.
Now, she had to wonder: why would such a man accept a bride in a small town like Silverpines? There wasn’t any doubt in her mind he could have his choice of bride from wherever he came from.
Why did he answer her advertisement?
“Marshal, may I have a word with you.”
His voice carried over the din of the platform. Elena groaned. Even his voice had a warm deep quality to it, like a bucket of hot water cascading down her back.
“How can I assist you, Mister—?”
“Clayborne,” the man answered to her utter doom. “Tobias Clayborne. I’m here looking for Miss Somersville.”
“Ah, Miss Somersville. I saw her just a few moments ago,” Marshal Alexzander made the comment. “She should be around here somewhere. You’re the one that answered her advertisement?”
She twisted her head around the corner of her hiding place.
“Miss Somersville and I have private business to discuss.”
A jolt went through her. Oh, she liked that. Liked that a lot. Although it was well known that a group of women had gone to Betsy Sewell and they had all sent for grooms, she liked the fact he wanted to keep their arrangement to himself.
It wasn’t really much to get excited about but she found herself marking his reticence as a sign of honor. Hadn’t she asked for a man of honor when she placed the advertisement in the newspaper?
But that didn’t mean he was an honorable man. He could just be thinking about ending their arrangement before they got started. If he went around telling everyone he was her groom, and then hightailed it out of town the next day, it would be an embarrassment to her.
“Is that you, Elena Somersville?” A loud and familiar voice called across the platform.
She nearly jumped out of her shoes. Fannie Pearl moseyed over to her, a twinkle in her eyes. Elena bit down the response she longed to say. The older woman knew what she was doing, giving away her hiding place.
Stepping forward from behind the pillar, she lifted her chin and stitched on a smile. “Hi Fannie Pearl.”
Carefully, she tried to keep her eyes from landing on her soon-to-be-husband, Mr. Clayborne. But from the corner of her eyes, she saw him turn at the sound of her name.
“Did the person you came to see arrive just now?” Fannie Pearl threaded her arms through hers and dragged her from behind the pillar. Did she have to be so loud? Her voice carried so, a few of the others waiting for arrivals turned their heads.
“I’m not sure if he’s here yet,” she fibbed, mentally crossing her fingers. “I’ve not seen him arrive yet.”
“Well, let’s go on up and down the platform here and see if we can’t find him. Peppermint?” The woman reached into her reticule and pulled out one of the treats.
“Thank you, Fannie Pearl.” There wasn’t any way she could eat the sweet treat now. Coming their way was the marshal and Mr. Clayborne. Both men a sight to behold as they carried an air of authority she found comforting in one sense and confusing in the other. She doubted if she could even get the candy down her throat from the nervousness choking her.
“Miss Somersville.” The marshal stopped before her. “This gentleman here is Mr. Clayborne who says he has business with you. Is that true?”
Elena flicked her glance over to Mr. Clayborne who took off his hat and nodded.
“Good morning, Miss Somersville.”
For a brief moment, she wanted to deny that they had any sort of business with each other. Then the memory of a pair of blue eyes filled with menacing desire floated before her in her mind. In one month, Mace Thorne would be coming to claim her as his bride. She’d yet to tell Mr. Clayborne.
“Yes, we do have business.” She pulled her arm away from Fannie Pearl’s and reached out. “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, Miss Somersville.” His hand clasped her own. Large, long fingers dirtied with wear of the travel but the most wonderful type of warmth flowed from his hand to hers. It traveled from where their hands met, up her arms, and flushed her insides with a feeling of wellbeing.
Fanciful, but she had the distinct impression of something within her melting away. What it was, she couldn’t tell. Something had transferred from him to her and she didn’t know what it was.
Swiftly she removed herself from his touch. It would be the first and last time they’d make physical contact in such a way again.
Truth be told, if only to herself, she couldn’t bear for him to touch her again lest she lose her resolve.
This was bad, Tobias thought to himself. This was very bad.
Why did life have to be so difficult? Coming to Silverpines should have been easy. Connect with Miss E. Somersville, use her as his temporary wife in name only to find the identity of Mace’s bride. After which, he would kidnap her, and force the outlaw to town. Then, he’d avenge Henry and Cora’s deaths
But this…this wasn’t easy.
They sat around the table in the dining room of the Silverpines Inn, eating a light repast. The manager of the inn, Ella Grace Mulvaney, had served them personally. An attractive young woman in her own right but her looks paled in comparison to the woman sitting across from him.
“Would you like some coffee, Mr. Clayborne?”
The older woman, Mrs. Edmondson, although everyone called her Fannie Pearl more often than not, drew his gaze away from the quiet woman sitting across the table. “Thank you, Mrs. Edmondson.”
“Oh, call me Fannie Pearl,” she insisted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Everyone else does.” She poured another cup of the strong, robust brew.
“I wouldn’t dream of being so familiar,” he equivocated as he accepted the cup and a sip of the coffee.
“It’s all right. I’m a little too old for you to be marrying anyway.”
Tobias choked on the liquid while Miss Somersville gasped. “Fannie Pearl! You were to keep that to yourself.”
“I did, Elena. There’s no else listening to us but him and he already knows.”
Elena. So that was her name.
Tobias wiped off the beads of liquid that dotted his lips and chin. The name Elena fit this woman well. She reminded him of a cameo pendant he saw years ago as a boy. His aunt Patricia had worn one once and the image had stuck in his mind ever since. The profile of an elegant lady in a white mother-of-pearl setting against a dark blue background.
His aunt had let him hold it back then. The image represented the kind of woman he secretly always wanted when faced with his mother’s ‘illnesses’.
Elena Somersville could have been that cameo in flesh and blood. Skin white as a turtle dove’s breast with a mane of hair as black as a moonless night. He loved the way those sausage curls rested on her shoulders, playful and alluring. The urge to reach out and caress that rich dark hair to determine if it was as fine and smooth as it appeared to be almost overpowered him with its strength. Something about this woman called to him in a way he couldn’t understand.
“Peppermint?”
He started. Fannie Pearl held out the small, striped candy, a decided twinkle of humor in her eyes. He must have been staring at Miss Somersville. A rare heat burned his face.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Edmondson.”
“You sure?” She cocked her gray head to the side. “You looked like you were in the need for something sweet.”
His eyebrows perched into his hairline at the subtle way she called attention to his scrutiny of the woman he couldn’t take his eyes off of. If it was possible, his face grew hotter.
“Thank you, Mrs. Edmondson.” He croaked as he took the offered treat. “Much obliged.”
A quick glance at Miss Somersville showed her rosy cheeks as well. Apple cheeks with deep dimples he could stick his finger into.
Stop it! Don’t be taken in by a pretty face like your father was.
The admonition worked somewhat to bring his mind back to the matters that should have been the only things consuming his thoughts: the location of Mace Thorne’s wife, and solidifying this marriage of convenience.
Something of his thoughts must have been on his face. Miss Somersville’s dark eyes held his for a moment and Tobias felt his chest constrict at their unfathomable depths. She turned away to the older woman next to her and his breath whooshed out of him.
“Fannie Pearl, would you mind giving us some privacy. Mr. Clayborne and I have important business to discuss.”
Mrs. Edmondson patted her hand. “Of course, you both do. I’ll be over there if you need me.”
With that, Fannie Pearl got up and left him alone with his bride.
No, not his bride, his ace to gain the whereabouts of Mace’s wife.
“You’ll have to forgive Fannie Pearl’s brand of…frankness,” Miss Somersville sighed. “She’s a dear friend and a pillar of our community. Such as it is.” A corner of her mouth twisted downward.
“I’d read some of what has happened here.” Tobias fought the desire to get directly to the point of their conversation with the instinctive knowledge that Miss Somersville needed to talk first. “An earthquake?”
“Two earthquakes.” Elena’s mouth twisted again. “They happened a few weeks ago. Two days in a row. The first one caused the mine to collapse. The next one brought about a mudslide which decimated the northern part of Silverpines where the loggers and timber men lived and worked.”
Tobias made a noise of sympathy.
“Many of our men were there when it happened. Some survived but most didn’t. My brother was one of them.”
She clasped her tiny white hands together.
Her face blanched, the once rosy cheeks now devoid of color. “It was horrible, Mr. Clayborne. One day, we had a thriving community of hard workers and families. The next, most of them were dead.”
The anguish on her face tore at his heart. What could he say to her to comfort the images of death she must be seeing? The memory of Henry and Cora’s bodies rose up again. No one could ease away the pain of finding them like he did.
Nor could he give comfort to this woman who must be living with the nightmare. She wasn’t really going to be his wife. Just for a short while until…
Until what?
“I’m right sorry to hear that, Miss Somersville. I can’t imagine your pain.”
“Thank you for the kind words, Mr. Clayborne.” Her chin, the small, square chin with its cleft lifted up. He watched as she pushed away the horror only she could see and then box it away. The show of pragmatism made an impression. Delicate she may look but she was made of stronger stuff.
When her eyes met his again, they were clear.
“Shall we get down to the business at hand, Mr. Clayborne?”
CHAPTER SIX
“I’d be glad to,” Mr. Clayborne answered back.
Would you? Elena thought. She’d rather tell him to get on the next train from Silverpines and never come here again.
Being in his presence was just as unnerving as watching him from afar. That air of power was a tangible thing. It intruded into her domain. Made her aware of him in a way she had no desire to be.
Ella Grace had offered Mr. Clayborne one of the rooms in the inn. Before they sat down for their repast, he’d taken the time to spruce up from his travels.
Another thing she didn’t want to be aware of was the fact that since he’d cleaned and freshened up, he looked quite devastating.
Throughout the excellently prepared meal by Mrs. Donlinson, the cook for the Silverpines Inn, Elena tried her best to not see those handsome features. She failed miserably. She wondered what Mr. Clayborne would think if he knew how many times she snuck glances in his direction when she was certain he wasn’t looking.
Like his nose for instance. Crooked in the middle as if he’d done some injury to it years ago. It should have marred the symmetry of his face but the imperfection added to his masculine appeal. When he leaned over to answer one of Fannie Pearl’s endless questions, she stared at his hair. Thick, and dark, it rested along the edge of his jawline.
When he’d taken off his jacket before sitting down, she paid attention to the way those broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt. Then she frowned as she noticed a bulge at his throat. Not a small one either but one bulky enough that it caught her eye. She wondered what he hid there.
She drew her eyes away a second before he turned to look at her. Fannie Pearl had been staring right at her, a knowing expression telling the older woman what wild and strange thoughts may have been going through her head.
Now, they were alone. Well, as alone as they could be in the dining area of the hotel. Elena stabbed her fork into the fluffy mashed potatoes and took in a forkful. None of that, Elena told herself fiercely, men could not be trusted and you’d do well to remember that. No matter how one of them made you feel.
“Miss Somersville?” Those blue eyes seemed to look straight into her soul.
She gave a slight shake. “My apologies. I was lost in thought.”
Mr. Clayborne gave her a sudden lopsided grin. Her heart kicked against her ribcage. It was disarming and boyish. “Quite understandable under these circumstances.”
With effort, she pulled her eyes away from how that grin lit his entire face like a sun.
“I’m sure that when you arrived here, you had questions you needed to ask me. I also have questions for you.” If she remained steady on the reason why they came here, she could forget his smile.
“Shall I start, or you?”
“I’ll begin.” She cleared her throat delicately. “As you can attest to with your own eyes, our town is in need of help. Many of us have decided that instead of leaving, we’re going to stay and rebuild our town.”
They had no choice. Sn
ippets of conversations she had with some of the woman proved that. Even if they had left Silverpines, who would protect those who had no men to care for them?
“Your skills as a blacksmith are quite valuable for obvious reasons. My brother Bo—,”
“Your brother?” A dark long eyebrow arched in question.
“Yes, my brother.” Had it only been a few weeks since she’d buried him?
“Why haven’t you mentioned your brother before?” A suspicious light came into his eyes.
Elena bristled. “That’s because he’s dead.”
Her words, spoken softly, cut through the air. Her eyes closed on a sharp prick of pain. From the way Mr. Clayborne slid his eyes away from her, a ruddiness coloring his cheeks, she knew he’d been shamed again.
“He’s the reason why you’re here.”
“Please explain.”
“About my brother?”
Mr. Clayborne nodded once. His interest, even if it was polite interest, added another mark to his character in a good way.
“He had saved one of the children from death when one of the beams of the houses cracked. He pushed the child out of the way mere moments before it crushed him.”
“That’s highly commendable.”
Commendable? Elena fought to keep the harsh, sour laugh from erupting. This man could not comprehend the irony of her brother’s sacrifice.
The selfless act stung in two different ways. Pride that her brother risked his life to save that of a child. Resentment that he couldn’t be a better man.
“My brother was our only blacksmith. His skills were a valuable asset to the town as I’m sure your skills will be. We’ve a lot of work we have to do. We need able bodied men to assist.”
She stared at the ring of silver that outlined the saucer of her tea. “Our town is in dire straits, Mr. Clayborne. A number of us women had to seek outside help. Some of reached out to Marshall Sewell’s wife, Betsy, who in turn led us to the Groom’s Gazette.”
“You didn’t have to marry me in order to get my help. You could have simply put an advertisement in the newspapers and I could have responded that way. No one needed to offer marriage.”
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