by Lisa Plumley
And especially by lying to her to do it.
Still, one niggling thought remained as Adam bounced along beside Savannah, headed toward a wedding he’d never expected to find himself involved in, in a town he’d never been to.
Exactly why had Savannah been trying to pass by mostly unnoticed in Morrow Creek? And why did marrying him somehow set it right?
Chapter Eight
The only thing more awkward than marrying a man she’d only just met, Savannah realized as she guided Chester uphill during the first hour of her nuptial journey to Avalanche, was making the trip to the wedding itself. She and Adam had scarcely said a word since they’d left the telegraph station. That had been some distance ago. Now the silence was beginning to concern her.
If this was the manner in which they communicated now, before they’d even exchanged vows, what would their lives be like a few weeks or months or years hence? The question set her jaw in motion, even before she could remember to be cautious.
“It’s a fine day, isn’t it?” she ventured.
In demonstration, she gestured with her gloved hand. The sunshine fell through the trees as they passed, lighting the area with a cheery glow. Birds twittered in the underbrush. Flies pestered Chester, who flicked them with his tail. The wagon swayed and creaked, continuing on its path to her future.
Her future as Mrs. Adam Corwin, never again to be referred to or thought of or pitied or scorned as a “Ruthless Reed.”
“Yes,” Adam offered tightly. “A fine day.”
As he had for the past several hills and valleys, he sat beside her with his long, powerful legs braced on the wagon. He gazed at the area beyond the roadside, clearly preoccupied.
“What are you thinking about?” Savannah asked.
“Nothing.”
She laughed. “Of course you’re thinking about something.”
In reply, he compressed his mouth but remained silent. The taut lines of his upper body bespoke alertness. His shoulders appeared as tight as the bandages she’d secured before starting out on their trip. His arms were held braced at his sides.
Even Mose never appeared this watchful when they were out.
But then the truth occurred to Savannah. She nearly sighed with relief. “You’re looking out for desperados, aren’t you?”
Adam blinked, clearly surprised. “Have you seen someone?” His gaze looked intent. “Has someone threatened you?”
She laughed again. “Of course not! I’ve been telling you the truth—those Wild West tales are exaggerations. You don’t have to protect me from any desperados, real or imaginary.”
“They’re real, all right.” Adam gritted his teeth. He swayed on the wagon seat beside her with surprising balance and agility. Apparently he was stronger and more on the mend than she’d thought. “But if they come after you, they’ll be sorry.”
His words were little more than a muttered threat. They sounded sincere, though, and his protectiveness—however unneeded—made her smile. She was fortunate that Adam Corwin was a brave and kind man. Although he did deserve better than to be misled into marrying The Seductive Sensation without knowing it.
Guiltily Savannah bit her lip. It hadn’t occurred to her how unfair she was being. Adam deserved to know the truth about her past—to know, without a doubt, what he was getting into. Maybe he would even accept her as she was—her life on the stage, her ne’er-do-well parents, and her dancing included. That was what she would have loved most of all. In a little while, it would be too late to have an honest beginning between them.
Thinking of that, she cast a nervous glance at him. “You know, it’s fortunate we have this time together,” she began, searching for a way to broach her past. “There are probably a great many things you’d like to know about me. For instance—”
“Stop here.”
“What?” Confused, Savannah frowned at him. “Why?”
“Someone is following us.”
She tried to turn around. Adam pushed his shoulder near hers to prevent her from doing so, then took control of the reins. With his free hand, he flipped back his suit coat—freshly laundered and newly mended at her own hands—then settled his palm over something. Something on his hip. Something blunt and steely, holstered in battered leather and ready for firing.
“You’re wearing your gun belt!” she blurted, gawking at how oddly appropriate it seemed on his person. “And your gun!”
“Keep your voice down.” Grim-faced, Adam pulled Chester to a mane-tossing halt. He gestured to Savannah. “I want you to get down here beside me. Get yourself hidden behind the wagon seat as much as you can. Cover your head.” His gaze fixed itself on something in the trees behind them. “Now.”
Spooked by the raw urgency in his voice, Savannah felt gooseflesh prickle over her arms. The day, formerly so sunny and bright, suddenly felt chilly and unreal.
But surely Adam was only being his usual cautious self. Surely nothing was really wrong…was it?
“Don’t be silly!” she said. “I realize that being attacked and robbed on your first day here might have left you a little wary, but I promise you, I’ve traveled all over this road and—”
“Down.” With his hand firm on her hat, Adam lowered her to her knees. He moved near her, shielding her with his body. Attentiveness emanated from him. “Stay quiet.”
Affronted and baffled by his behavior, Savannah opened her mouth to protest. Then she heard it—the faint clip-clop of hooves against packed earth, then the jingling of tack and spurs. Someone was behind them. Warily she hunched against the wagon, trying to make herself disappear behind the bench seat.
Unconcerned by their plight, birds twittered nearby. A fly buzzed past Savannah’s ear. Her skin dampened with sweat, making her dress stick uncomfortably to her back. From her position, all she could see were a slice of blue sky and Adam’s tense frame, poised in front of her while he examined the traces.
Holding her breath, Savannah waited. The horse and rider neared their wagon, sending up dust in their wake. She smelled it in the air. Saddle leather creaked. The hoofbeats slowed.
“’Afternoon,” the rider said.
Adam gave a curt nod, his hand still on his gun belt.
Savannah craned her neck. From beyond Adam’s braced legs, she glimpsed a dappled mare. Its lone rider wore battered britches and an unmatched suit coat. The man spotted her. A wide, unhygienic smile split his face. He tipped his hat at her.
Startled and strangely fearful of his gesture, she looked away. Then she glanced back just as hastily, berating herself for being rude. Surely the polite thing to do would be to smile or greet him or offer an explanation for why she was crouched so peculiarly in her wagon…but then her gaze fell to Adam’s calf. She recognized the faint outline of his knife.
A chill moved through her. In that moment, Savannah felt bizarrely convinced that Adam was not pretending to be a rough and ready Wild West adventurer. In that moment, he truly seemed to be the “bad man” he’d warned her about on the day they’d met.
His forbidding expression did nothing to diminish that impression. With his gaze pointed and his hand still ready on his gun belt, Adam examined the wooded hillside surrounding them. The rider passed by them without incident, but clearly Adam had expected…something more to happen. His whole body radiated guardedness.
Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it. After a few long seconds, he gestured for her to get up.
Awkwardly Savannah did. She brushed off her skirts, noticing as she did that the lone rider was still visible, far ahead of them now and showing no signs of slowing down.
“See? There’s no need to be alarmed.” She pointed to him. “He’s just another traveler. I didn’t even recognize him.”
To her surprise, Adam did. “It’s Curtis Bedell.”
“A friend of yours? All the way out here?” She laughed.
Adam remained sober. He gazed at her intently, too.
Savannah didn’t know what he was looking for. Bu
t then she realized that Adam couldn’t possibly be serious. “Curtis Bedell” probably didn’t even exist. Adam must have invented the name in an attempt to justify their situation. Undoubtedly he felt embarrassed to have been so overzealous about protecting her—from a harmless, if untidy, passerby, at that.
“Hmm. Seeing someone you’re acquainted with all the way out here? I guess that must truly be serendipity in action.”
“Yes.” A pause. Adam frowned. “Something like that.”
Gazing at his taut face, Savannah yearned to ease his discomfort. She knew what it felt like to be on the outside of a situation—to be guilty of trying too hard to fit in someplace new. She knew that her Baltimore-based, telegraph operator husband-to-be must feel out of place here in the Territory.
“Well then. Serendipity or not, if you know him, maybe we should invite Mr. Bedell to the wedding,” she joked.
Adam shook his head. “I’d sooner bring a rattlesnake to a christening.” His gaze sharpened as it followed the man down the road. Then Adam looked at her, and his face softened. “Go on now. Take your seat.” He helped her into his former position on the wagon bench, then assumed her place at the reins. “You don’t mean to keep a man waiting all day for his own wedding, do you?”
He smiled at her then, but something about Adam’s demeanor bothered her. Trying to figure it out, Savannah hesitated. She had the oddest feeling that something important had just taken place…but she’d be jiggered if she could guess what it was.
Surely Adam didn’t truly know Curtis Bedell?
If he did, she reckoned as she glanced sideways and caught Adam peering down the road after that lone rider again, he did not like the man. Not even the tiniest bit.
Despite Adam’s peculiar behavior, though, Savannah had to keep her priorities in mind. Getting herself properly wed to her mail-order groom lay at the top of the list. “Absolutely not!” she assured him. “There’ll be no delays from me. The sooner we’re married, the better.”
Given his unusual behavior, Savannah decided, maybe she should wait just a little while longer to explain about being The Seductive Sensation. Just to be properly circumspect….
Standing inside the minister’s small house, Adam paced as he waited for the wedding ceremony to begin. The minister’s wife had gone to secure two witnesses, leaving him alone with his impatience—and his reluctance to leave Savannah unguarded.
Casting a careful glance outside the sitting-room window, Adam caught a crooked-looking glimpse of the town outside. To his relief, nothing seemed amiss. Wherever Curtis Bedell had gone to, he wasn’t in sight any longer. All Adam saw out the window was the small mining town of Avalanche, perched on the rocky hillside and hugging the mountain like a stout billy goat. Some of the houses and businesses bore stilts to help them balance against the rocks; others simply stood akilter. In the distance, the tall shaft of the Daisy mine stood visible along the skyline, cutting into the jagged blue sky with impunity.
Despite Adam’s expectations, no lone riders waited along that skyline. No Bedell brothers lurked at the edge of the tumbled boulders or sighted their rifles at the minister’s modest house. But that didn’t mean Adam could let down his guard. Seeing Curtis Bedell on their trail had spooked him considerably. For the first time since he’d awakened at the telegraph station, he agreed wholeheartedly with Savannah.
The sooner they were married, the better.
He couldn’t reason out why Curtis Bedell had simply been following them, though. Especially alone. The Bedells usually traveled in a pack, with Roy at its mangy head.
The fact that Curtis was on his own left Adam feeling uneasy. Clearly the gang hadn’t yet given up on stealing Savannah’s nest egg for themselves. But their usual manner of operation—with Roy Bedell calling the shots and his brothers dropping predictably in line behind him—appeared to have fallen by the wayside. Now there was no telling how far the brothers would go to get the money they wanted. If Adam hadn’t been there when Curtis had intersected Savannah’s path to Avalanche…
Shuddering, Adam shut his mind to the thought. He had been there. That was all that mattered. That, and keeping her safe.
To that end, Adam strode to the single door punctuating the sitting room wall. He hesitated, then rapped firmly on it.
“Savannah? Are you all right in there?”
“I’m fine!” Savannah yelled. “Don’t come in!”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. For the fourth time—I’m still just fine.”
She sounded amused and a little exasperated, but Adam couldn’t take any chances. He leaned his head nearer, straining to hear. He imagined the Bedells sneaking into the room where Savannah had gone to change into her best dress, holding her at gunpoint, stealing her away from him. Beset with worry, he made a grim face. He shook his head. “Stand back. I’m coming in.”
“Oh, no, you’re not!” The door rattled, undoubtedly because Savannah smacked both hands on it to hold it shut. That’s what she’d done the other three times he’d inquired after her. “Stay put! It’s bad luck for a groom to see his bride.”
Adam placed his hands on the door, too. Despite her objections, he seriously considered shoving it open. Seeing Curtis Bedell this morning had removed his doubts about the rightness of marrying Savannah, but it had not allayed his fears that she would somehow learn the truth and make him leave before he could protect her. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to stay beside her.
But he didn’t have to upset her. That’s what barging in while she changed would do. Relenting for the moment, Adam spread his fingers, imagining that his palms touched the door in the same places that Savannah’s did. He leaned his cheek against the door, feeling sappy as hell for doing so…but wholly unable to quit. He sighed. “All right. But I’m here if you need me.”
A moment passed. Then she said, “I know. Thank you, Adam. I’m more grateful than you can imagine, for everything you’ve done.”
Wistfully Adam closed his eyes. He’d never expected to find himself here. He knew he could love Savannah the way she deserved. But he didn’t know if she could love him…afterward.
Soon enough, the truth would come out. She would likely feel betrayed. He was a crackerjack with words, able when he wanted to charm and cajole almost as thoroughly as Mariana could in her heyday. But when tender feelings were involved, Adam got muddled. He didn’t like to talk about how he felt about things.
But he did like to feel. He hadn’t known that about himself until he’d met Savannah. He hadn’t known he had such a capacity to feel warmth and caring and protectiveness. Grateful for that—grateful for her most of all—Adam stroked the door.
“Aww. Isn’t that darling?” The minister’s wife bustled into the sitting room, spying Adam’s pose with a knowing look. “You can’t bear to be separated for a single moment. So romantic.”
Caught, Adam jerked backward. “Are we ready to start?”
“Soon. Soon.” Wearing a pleased little smile, the woman came closer. She lifted something in her hand. A nosegay of wildflowers. “First, you hold still while I gussy you up.”
Impatiently Adam glanced at the doorway she’d entered through. “Where are the witnesses? You went to get witnesses.”
“They’re waiting in the anteroom. Hold still.”
She came at him with the flowers. They’d been fashioned into a boutonniere, Adam saw. “I don’t need those,” he said. “Miss Reed likes me as I am. Let’s just get started.”
She gave him a peculiar look. “We will. We have the minister, the witnesses, the marriage license and—” she tilted her head toward the next room “—the bride. All we’re waiting on is for you to be properly dandified for your own wedding.”
Clearly the woman would not take no for an answer. Obediently Adam struck his chest forward. He held still.
“There.” The minister’s wife fussed with a few pins, her wrinkled hands busy at his suit coat lapel. “Fine. You look—”
; “Perfect,” Savannah breathed from the doorway.
Adam glanced up at her. In that moment, he was lost.
There was nothing he wouldn’t have done to make her his. Her eyes were bright, her face was beyond pretty and her dress fit her as though it had been sewn by angels. But those things weren’t what made him feel that he would have moved heaven and earth to make her happy. What made him feel that way…was her.
Savannah gazed up at him in wonder, and Adam wanted to live up to the magic she saw in him. She stepped quickly toward him, and he wanted to be worthy of her eagerness. She pronounced him perfect, and he longed to justify her good opinion. He wanted to be better, for her. He swore in that moment he would be.
Feeling his chest tighten with emotion, Adam inhaled a fortifying breath. “I… You look… The witnesses are—”
Wholly unable to make sense of himself, he gestured toward the anteroom. His first attempt at being better had not been a success. Evidently, Adam realized with a despairing heart, he was not yet ready to be a better man—even for Savannah’s sake.
But somehow, she understood him. She stepped closer and took his hand, then gazed up into his face with such warmth and caring that Adam felt entirely undone by it.
“I…” she said. “That is… Your suit is so—”
Savannah’s eyes widened. Her cheeks colored as she realized that what had emerged from her mouth was at least as garbled as what had come from his. Embarrassed, she glanced away, causing him to fear she might be on the verge of a full-blown curtsy.
Adam squeezed her hand. He urged her to look at him again. He swallowed past his curiously tight throat. “At least we’re a matching pair,” he said. “We fit together, the two of us.”
She laughed then, loudly, and he knew everything would be all right. In her eyes, his jest had made him a hero again.
Filled with pride, trailed by the minister’s sentimental wife, Adam led his bride to the sitting-room door. Stopping on the threshold, insensible to any curious onlookers, he gazed down at Savannah. “Are you ready, Miss Reed?”