The Anonymous Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 1)

by Vickie McDonough

  Rachel hiked up her chin. “We do not swear or call people names, young lady.”

  “Well, he’s got no business treating a girl like that. Made my belly ache.”

  Rachel’s gaze swerved down to her daughter’s stomach. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you, but you still haven’t explained yourself.”

  Jacqueline shrugged. “We just yelled at him for watering his horse in our swimming hole.”

  That didn’t seem such a bad thing. Why would Luke take offense to that? Maybe he had changed in the years he’d been gone. Gotten cranky as he’d aged. Still, she couldn’t help thinking there was more to the story than Jacqueline was sharing. “Let’s get home and have dinner; then it’s back to school for you.”

  Jacqueline hung her head. “Aw, do I have to? I wanted to go fishing with Jonesy and Ricky this afternoon.”

  “We have extra guests staying with us since the mayor’s family is in town to celebrate his and his wife’s twenty-fifth anniversary. I could use your help. Besides, you know how I feel about you skipping school to fish and hang around with those older boys.”

  “You just don’t like them because they’re poor.” Jacqueline glared up at her.

  Rachel stopped on her front porch, noting that the white wicker rockers were all aligned neatly and the greenery in the potted plants was filling out nicely. Too bad she couldn’t keep her daughter so orderly. “That’s not true. My family was poor. Folks who don’t have much are just as good and decent as anyone else. The reason I object is that you’re ten, and you have no business running around with boys who are three years older than you.”

  Rachel held on to her daughter’s shoulder to make sure she didn’t bolt. Why couldn’t children come with instructions? She hated the way Jacqueline challenged her constantly and dressed like a boy every time Rachel turned her back. She dearly loved her daughter, in spite of everything, but she wished that she was more obedient and ladylike.

  Two boys dashed across the road toward them. “Hey, Jack, that was a close call, wasn’t it?” said Ricky Blake. The tall, towheaded youth skidded to a halt, and Jonesy almost ran into his back.

  “My daughter’s name is Jacqueline, not Jack, and I’ll thank you to remember that.” Rachel narrowed her eyes, just realizing what the boy had said. What had been a close call?

  Jacqueline scowled, and her gaze roved back and forth between the boys and Rachel. Her daughter was hiding something, but for the life of her, Rachel didn’t know how to get at the truth.

  The boys dashed past them, and Jacqueline suddenly jerked away and chased after them.

  “Jacqueline, you come back here this instant!”

  The trio disappeared around the corner. Ray and Margie Mann and Thelma Jenkins all stopped on the boardwalk outside the bank and stared. Rachel ducked her head. Everyone in town knew her daughter ran wild, despite her efforts to control her.

  And now Luke was back in town. Her troubles had quadrupled in a single day.

  ***

  The bell over the freight office door jangled as Luke strode in. He couldn’t shake Rachel’s image from his mind. She’d seemed as stunned to see him as he’d been to see her again. She’d looked good, too good for someone he was trying to forget. But she was a married woman, and he’d best remember that. She’d made her choice a long time ago.

  A blond man sitting behind the desk looked up with curious blue eyes, and Luke honestly couldn’t tell which cousin he was. The gangly youth he’d left years ago was now an adult. “Garrett?”

  The man’s brows dipped. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, I want to know when your next gold shipment is due in so I can steal it.” Luke struggled to keep a straight face and was careful to keep his hands clear of his gun. Both of his cousins were crack shots.

  “Pardon?” Garrett stood and walked around his desk.

  Bold move for an unarmed man. Luke grinned. Evidently the confusion ran both directions. “Don’t you recognize me, cuz?”

  He scowled at Luke for a second; then his brows dashed upward. “Luke? Is it really you?”

  Luke nodded, and Garrett let out a war whoop that brought Mark running out from the back room, holding his rifle. Though a good two inches shorter than Luke, Garrett grabbed him in a bear hug and lifted him clear off his feet. Mark obviously didn’t know whether to shoot or join the ruckus.

  “Welcome home, cuz.” Garrett dropped him and slapped him on the back. “How come you’re all wet?”

  Mark’s eyes widened. He laid the rifle on Garrett’s desk and hurried forward, his hand outstretched. “Welcome home, Luke. It’s great to see you again.”

  They shook hands. Luke’s face hurt from grinning more than it had in a decade. Mark, too, gave him a slap on the shoulder but jumped back when he realized the state of Luke’s clothing. Both brothers leaned on Garrett’s desk, arms crossed. They had the same color hair—although Mark’s was curlier than his older brother’s—and the same robin’s egg blue eyes, but that’s where the similarities ended. Garrett had the chiseled jaw of his father, where Mark’s features were more finely etched with the look of his mother’s side of the family. Two tall, muscular men stared at him instead of the lean youths Luke had left behind.

  Garrett glanced out the window and back to Luke. “It hasn’t rained all week, so...” He waved his hand at Luke’s clothing.

  “Had a run-in with some of the local kids down by the swimming hole. Two adolescent boys and a girl about eight or nine.” Luke chuckled, remembering what a handful Rachel’s daughter was. “Spunky little thing.”

  The brothers exchanged a look. Luke figured it had to do with the girl being Rachel’s daughter. Had one of the boys been hers, too? Mentally calculating the years, he decided they were too old. He leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.”

  “Are you home for good? Done with your wanderings?” Garrett always did get right to the point.

  Luke shrugged. “I’m here for a while. I’m the new town marshal.”

  The brothers blinked in unison, their mouths dropping open. Luke smiled at taking them by surprise again. Twice in one day had to be a record.

  “Well, that’s good news.” Garrett rubbed the back of his neck. “We haven’t had a marshal since November, when the last one died of a heart condition.”

  “How’d you wrangle that job?” Mark asked.

  “When I decided to leave the cavalry, I telegraphed the mayor to see if he knew of any jobs in the area, and he told me about needing a marshal and offered me the position. He figured my years in the cavalry qualified me.”

  “Yeah, things have gotten rowdy down at the saloon. I hope you can settle them down so us decent folks can get some sleep.”

  Luke bit back another smile and shook his head. “Since when are you two hooligans considered decent folk?”

  Garrett stood. “Look around, cuz. We’re upstanding businessmen now. We have to protect our reputation.”

  The brothers shared another look. One of Mark’s brows darted upward.

  Luke shook his head and chuckled. He couldn’t help wondering how many days had passed since one of them had pulled a prank on the other or on some unsuspecting citizen of Lookout. “I’m starving. How about you two”—he lifted his hand to his mouth and faked a cough—“upstanding citizens join me for dinner?”

  “You buyin’?” Mark asked.

  “Sure, why not? I’ve got eleven years of cavalry pay burning a hole in my pocket.”

  Both men’s gazes dropped down to Luke’s trousers. He laughed out loud. “You’re so predictable. C’mon, let’s go grab some grub.”

  They crossed the street, shoulder to shoulder, like a trio of gunslingers looking for trouble. Luke’s gaze swung toward Hamilton House. The three-story structure would have looked strangely out of place if not for the two newer mansions built to the right of it.

  He imagined Rachel sitting on the inviting porch, knitting or mending at the end of the d
ay. He hoped she’d lived a happy life with James. Her lifestyle certainly was better than it would have been if she’d married Luke. The best he could have hoped for back then was to have a small farm and a one-room shack. Yeah, Rachel had married for money, and it certainly paid off. She’d probably never given him a second thought after he left town. So much for young love and promises of everlasting devotion. Clamping his jaw on that thought, he bounded up the steps to the boardwalk.

  His heart jolted. A woman in a dark blue bonnet strode toward them, head down and looking at a list in her hand. Rachel? She glanced up, and dove gray eyes met his instead of Rachel’s pale blue ones. He was both relieved and disappointed. The woman’s cheeks flushed at his stare, and she looked down and walked past him.

  Someone shoved him from behind, and he stumbled forward. “We ain’t never gonna eat if you stand there gawking at every woman that passes by.”

  “Now, ease up, Garrett. He’s been stuck out on the frontier with a bunch of smelly soldiers for the last eleven years.”

  Luke chuckled with them, not bothering to tell them that he’d seen women, but they’d all been married to officers, for the most part anyway. Besides, even though Rachel had married someone else, he’d never been able to consider starting life with another woman. That was one of his reasons for returning to Lookout—to get Rachel out of his system, once and for all.

  They selected a table near the front window and placed their orders with a young man Luke didn’t recognize. He stared out the window, trying to get a feel for the town and how much it had changed. How many of the folks that he knew from before still lived here?

  “So, tell us what you’ve been doing the past eleven years.”

  Luke stared at his cousins. “You’d know if you read my letters.”

  Both men squirmed, but Garrett spoke up, “We read ’em. It’s just been a long while since you wrote last.”

  “Been a lot longer since I’ve heard from you.” Luke lifted his brow. Years had passed since he’d gotten a letter from either cousin, but he decided not to press the issue. Most men didn’t like writing missives, and besides, his cousins had been hard at work developing their freight operation, from the looks of it. “Been busy rounding up Indians, cattle rustlers, and train robbers. Making the frontier safe for settlers.”

  “Sounds like you had your hands full.” Mark grabbed a slice of bread from the basket in the center of the table and buttered it. “You must have spent plenty of time in the sun. You’re brown as an Indian.”

  Luke chuckled. “Not quite.” He snagged a slice of bread and slathered on butter. He closed his eyes, relishing the softness of the white center, the crispy crust, and flavorful spread. “Been a long time since I ate bread this good. It’s a far cry better than hardtack.”

  He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the atmosphere of the small-town café. He’d missed this. Folks relaxed, not worried about Indian attacks. Silverware clinked, and in the doorway to the kitchen, he saw Polly waddling back and forth, dishing up plates of food.

  “Yeah, Polly’s cooking is the best. Why, if she was fifteen years younger and fifty pounds lighter, I’d marry her myself.” Garrett grinned and grabbed a piece of bread.

  “Why aren’t you two married? I would have thought by now that you’d both have a ring around some pretty gal’s finger.”

  Mark turned red. “Been busy. Starting up a freight business and delivering goods keeps us away from town for days at times. Most women want a man who’s home every night.”

  “Speaking of women”—Garrett’s eyebrows waggled up and down—“are you going to visit Rachel anytime soon?”

  Luke halted the bread that was halfway to his mouth. “Now why would I do that? I don’t reckon it would make James too happy.”

  Garrett and Mark exchanged a telling glance.

  Why did they keep doing that? “What? Spit it out.” Luke lowered his hand holding the bread, expecting some earth-shattering news from the looks on his cousins’ faces.

  “Uh ... didn’t we write and tell you about him?” Mark asked.

  “About who?” All manner of thoughts skittered around Luke’s mind like insects swarming a lantern at night.

  “James is dead,” Garrett said, looking pointedly at him. “Died three years ago. Broke his neck when he got thrown from a spirited stallion he’d won in a poker game.”

  Luke opened his mouth, but all the thoughts that had scurried through his mind now fled.

  CHAPTER 3

  The kitchen screen door banged shut, and Rachel jumped. She pulled in a breath and forced her voice to sound steady. “Please do not slam the door, Jacqueline.”

  “I caught a mess of trout and bass.” She dropped the smelly fish onto Rachel’s clean kitchen worktable.

  Rachel pursed her lips. How could Jacqueline just waltz in and pretend nothing had happened after defiantly disobeying her? “You know if you catch fish that you’re supposed to clean them before bringing them in.”

  Jacqueline flopped into a chair. Auburn hair sprouted loose from her braids, making her resemble an old rag doll whose hair had seen better days. “Can’t you do it just this once? I’m all tuckered out. Fishin’s hard work.”

  Shaking her head, Rachel knew she had just the right ammunition for this argument since her daughter loved fried fish. “If you want me to cook those, you’ll have to clean them.”

  Jacqueline sighed. “But I’m starving. Can’t I eat something first?”

  “Supper is nearly ready.” Rachel used the end of her apron to pull a pan holding two baked chickens from the oven. Fragrant scents filled the room, making her stomach rumble. “Take the fish outside, put them in some water, and wash up. You can clean them after we eat, and I’ll fix them up after supper. Set the table when you come back inside.”

  Clad in overalls and a blue plaid shirt, her child scowled, but then she scrambled out the kitchen door with the string of fish in tow. Rachel shook her head. James had always wanted a son, but only Jacqueline had lived to reach full-term. With an aching heart, she remembered the three infant boys she’d lost. Jacqueline tried so hard to be a boy when Rachel only wanted her to be a sweet little girl.

  She mashed the potatoes with more force than necessary. Thoughts of James always stirred up a swirl of resentment in her heart. At least he could no longer make her feel helpless. She rolled her neck, trying to relax. She was thankful she no longer had to tiptoe around the house, worrying that she’d set James off; yet she felt guilty for her train of thought. Forgive me, Lord, for thinking such things about the deceased.

  She dished up the turnips and sliced the chicken into pieces. Jacqueline tromped back inside, her face shiny with moisture.

  “Run and change quickly into your green dress.”

  “Aw, do I have to?”

  “You do if you want to eat, and I’m telling you right now, you’re getting no pie and you will wash the dishes alone, afterwards; and you’ll pen Colossians 3:20 thirty times.”

  Jacqueline’s eyes went wide. “But why? I took the fish outside.”

  “How quickly you forget.” Rachel asked then shook her head. “You deliberately disobeyed me this morning when I told you that I needed your help for dinner, and you chose to run off with those boys when you should have gone back to school.”

  Jacqueline crossed her arms and frowned. “But I caught a whole mess of fish. You’ll have extra meat to fix for supper, so I did you a favor.”

  The little manipulator. “It’s no favor to disobey me, and in case you didn’t notice, supper is ready now. Go get changed and hurry back. I’ve got to get the food served for our guests.”

  Jacqueline stomped off. Rachel hoped she hadn’t been too hard on the child. Disciplining didn’t come easy to her. She despised spanking even though she’d always heard, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” But after the way James had slapped Jacqueline in anger and spanked her repeatedly with his belt, she couldn’t bring herself to lay a hand on her daughter, even if it meant
the girl was a bit wild. Surely she would grow out of this stage as she got older. Maybe in a few years she’d think of boys as potential beaus and she’d like wearing dresses and looking pretty. Please, Lord, let it be so.

  After serving the mayor’s guests and eating, Rachel stayed in the kitchen and tinkered while Jacqueline washed the dishes. Normally, she enjoyed doing the dishes with her daughter. It was a time that the girl often dropped her guard and talked. Rachel wiped off her worktable and the stove. “Listen, sweetie, I appreciate the fish you caught, but I don’t want you going off alone with those boys.”

  “Why?” Jacqueline crinkled her forehead. “They’re my best buddies. Ricky dug up some great worms. Found a couple of fat, white grubs.” Just that fast, she grinned. “Jonesy dared him to eat one, and he did.”