The Bride Star (Civil War Brides Book 6)

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The Bride Star (Civil War Brides Book 6) Page 8

by Piper Davenport


  “Sam. I’m proud of you for staying down here.” Victoria chuckled and then turned to Rayne. “I’ll see you in there.”

  Rayne nodded and focused on Sam. He took her hand and led her down the rest of the stairs. “You are beautiful.”

  Rayne felt the heat creep up her neck. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her palm and the annoying shiver found its way down her spine again.

  “How was the rest of your day?”

  Rayne smiled up at him. “It was great. What about yours?”

  Sam sighed. “Filled with paperwork.”

  Rayne wrinkled her nose at the thought. “Yuck. I’m sorry.”

  “Yuck?”

  “Oh, it’s an expression from home. It means unpleasant.”

  Sam squeezed her hand. “Well, it’s over, and I now get to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Rayne groaned. “Good God.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”

  “That remains to be seen. Just keep in mind, I met you just over a week ago and have yet to determine your ability to lie.”

  Sam chuckled. “Fair enough. Now, come and meet Crow.”

  He led her down the hall and into the parlor. The men stood and Rayne almost laughed out loud when she saw Crow. Shaye would fall in love at first sight with this man.

  “Is he Creek?” she whispered.

  Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “How would you know that?”

  “I’ll explain later.” She disengaged from his arm and walked over to Crow. Extending her hand to him, she smiled brightly. Crow obviously didn’t know what to do or how to react, so he shook her hand but said nothing.

  “It’s really nice to meet you.”

  Crow nodded. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Miss Green.”

  “Please call me Rayne.”

  Crow smiled and then looked pleadingly at Sam, who was already moving toward them.

  Victoria beat him to it. “Don’t look so frightened, Crow.”

  Sam grinned as Crow raised an eyebrow. Victoria laid her hand on his arm. “I will loosen you up one day and you will truly be Laughing Crow.”

  “Oh?” he challenged.

  “Yes. I will make you laugh—out loud.” He smirked and Victoria grinned. “See, you’re already loosening up. This time you didn’t look as scared.”

  Clayton and Emma arrived a few minutes later and after quick introductions, dinner was served. The group moved to the dining room and took their seats.

  “Where’s Han?” Emma asked.

  “Not feeling so hot,” Victoria said.

  Emma frowned. “How bad?”

  “Not bad.” Victoria sipped her wine. “Christopher made her go straight to bed.”

  Emma let out a quiet breath. “I’ll go and see her after dinner.”

  “She’d like that.”

  Emma turned to Rayne. “Will you join us for Thanksgiving in Harrisburg, Rayne?”

  Rayne shook her head. “I’m going home, actually.”

  Emma’s fork dropped to her plate with a clatter. “You are?”

  SAM DIDN’T MISS Emma’s raised eyebrows and Victoria’s subtle shake of her head. Emma turned back to Rayne. “That’s too bad, Rayne. If anything changes, I hope you’ll reconsider. Especially since I want you to meet Sophie. You two must sing together.”

  Rayne shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “I didn’t know you could sing,” Sam said.

  Rayne gave him a smile. “It’s a hobby.”

  Emma and Victoria both made choking sounds and Sam narrowed his eyes. The ladies covered their mouths with their napkins and composed themselves.

  “Well, is anyone up for a game of charades?” Quincy laid his napkin on the table.

  Emma pushed her chair back with a scrape. “I am.”

  “I thought I might take Rayne for a walk.” Sam stood and held his hand out to her.

  Rayne blinked, attempting to keep her surprise hidden. “You did?”

  “Yes, if you’d like to.”

  Rayne shrugged. “Why not?”

  The group dispersed and Sam assisted Rayne with her coat and gloves. He led her out the front door and she slipped her hand into his arm.

  Sam squeezed her hand. “How did Emma know you sing?”

  Rayne shrugged. “We discussed it.”

  “Do you know each other?”

  “No. I just met her today.”

  He glanced at her. “How is it that you just met her and she knows that you sing, but it hasn’t come up in our conversations?”

  She cocked her head. “You never asked, I suppose.”

  “Is that all?” he asked quietly.

  “What’s with the inquisition?” She sighed. “Why do I feel like I’m one of your prisoners?”

  “Perhaps because you’re being evasive.”

  Slipping her hand out of his arm, she stopped walking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sam tried to school his features as he stared down at her. “Something else is going on here, Rayne, and I’d like you to tell me what it is.”

  “I can’t.”

  Sam crossed his arms. “Or you won’t.”

  Rayne sighed again. “What does it matter if it’s ‘can’t’ or ‘won’t’?”

  “It matters, Rayne. If you don’t know that by now, you haven’t been listening.”

  “Fine. I won’t,” she snapped.

  He dragged his hands down his face. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’ve already told you why, Sam.” Rayne bit her lip. “Why is it so difficult for you to accept?”

  “Because all is not as it seems.” Sam focused back on her. “And if we are going to be married—”

  “Wh-what?” Throwing her hands up in the air, she let out a squeal of frustration. “We are not getting married!”

  Sam smiled. “If we are to be married, I should know all of your secrets.”

  Before Rayne could comment, he leaned down and kissed her. She grasped onto the lapels of his jacket and he tightened his hold to keep her from falling. He teased her mouth with his tongue and she wove her arms around his neck, melting into him. When he broke the kiss, she stepped back and scowled. “Now, why the hell did you go and do that?”

  Sam still had hold of her hand and he grinned. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”

  “You can’t do this, Sam.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It can’t happen.”

  Before he knew what was happening, she ripped her hand from his and made a run for the house. “Rayne!”

  * * *

  Rayne pushed the front door open and swore internally when she ran into Quincy Butler. He smiled and Rayne could see why Victoria had fallen in love with him. He was tall, with dark hair, almost black, and deep-green eyes. He had an easiness about him, and she’d already seen his sense of humor with the way he and Victoria bantered back and forth.

  “Miss Green?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is everything all right?”

  Rayne forced a smile. “Yes, fine. Sam and I decided to cut our walk short.”

  As if on cue, the door opened and Sam stepped into the foyer. “Rayne?”

  Quincy grinned. “I hear you cut your walk short. Why don’t you both join us?”

  Rayne bit her lip. “I’m feeling a headache coming on—”

  “We’d love to join everyone,” Sam interrupted. He laid his hand on Rayne’s lower back and pushed her toward the room.

  Quincy walked into the parlor and Rayne stepped away from Sam. “Stop it. I want to go to bed.”

  “No you don’t. You want to run away from me.”

  Rayne shrugged. “Semantics.”

  “Humor me, Rayne.” He slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “I’d like to spend the rest of the evening with my fiancée.”

  Rayne pulled her hand away. “We are not getting married.”

  “We’ll see.” Sam chuckled and kissed her cheek. “I don’t have to leave
for an hour, so please spend it with me.”

  Rayne couldn’t resist him and hated that she couldn’t. It seemed the harder she fought to resist him the harder she fell. Her heart reached for his and with every smile he captivated it more and more. “You have one hour.”

  Sam led her into the parlor, where she spent the rest of the evening attempting to follow conversations pertaining to their current state of affairs. She found herself wishing she’d paid more attention in history class.

  * * *

  Sam sent a note the next morning that he would see Rayne at dinner. She was surprisingly disappointed that she’d have to wait that long to see him, and her disappointment concerned her. If she didn’t get home soon, she might actually fall in love with the man.

  The dinner hour arrived, finally. Rayne sat in the parlor and stared into her glass of wine, sipping on occasion, but all the while wishing it were a glass of scotch. Hearing male voices in the foyer, her heart raced and her stomach fluttered and then he was there… standing in the doorway, looking cuter than should be legal, and she knew she was lost.

  She rose to her feet and took him in. He wore black trousers and a black jacket, with a stark white cravat and black dress shoes. His blonde hair was brushed away from his face, and his blue eyes bore into her as he smiled and raked his gaze over her.

  She moved toward him, like a magnet to steel, as he greeted the rest of the group. She reached his side and his hand clasped hers as he nodded at something Quincy had just said.

  When they finished their conversation, Sam faced her. “Good evening, Rayne.” He raised her hand to his lips and smiled against her fingers as he kissed them. “I trust your day was agreeable.”

  She nodded. “Sure. Agreeable works.”

  Sam lowered her hand but continued to grasp it as they moved into the parlor.

  “Where’s Crow?”

  Sam assisted her to the sofa. “He’s tracking.”

  Rayne frowned. “Is someone lost?”

  Sam smiled gently. “Yes. But he’ll find him.”

  “Is it a bad guy?” she whispered.

  Sam raised an eyebrow as he sat next to her. “So many questions tonight, sweetheart.”

  Rayne bit her lip. “Sorry.”

  “Rayne?” Victoria drew focus to the other side of the room. “Will you sing for us after dinner?”

  Rayne felt heat creep up her neck. “Um… uh… maybe.”

  Before Victoria could insist, dinner was announced. Sam stood and held his hand out to Rayne. She took it and let him pull her from the sofa. Christopher and Quincy sat at opposite ends of the table, their wives to their right. Clayton and Emma sat across from Sam and Rayne, and Rayne felt Sam’s hand on hers several times throughout dinner. The table hid their secret touch and heightened Rayne’s attraction to him.

  When dinner concluded, the group made their way back to the parlor. Victoria cornered Rayne and grasped her arm. “Please sing for us.”

  “What would I sing? I don’t know any of the current songs.”

  “Sing one of yours.”

  Rayne narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Seriously?”

  Victoria nodded. “Yes. Christopher has a pianoforte, which means whatever you play will sound old-fashioned. No one will know. Sing one of your slower ones. If I’m allowed to make a request, I’d really like to hear ‘Love Gone.’”

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  Victoria grinned. “No way. I have Rayne Green sitting in my friend’s living room, and I’m going to take full advantage of it.”

  Rayne sighed. “Fine. One song.”

  Victoria let out a quiet squeal. “Yay.” She pulled Rayne to the pianoforte and faced the group. “Everyone. Rayne has graciously agreed to sing for us tonight. I have requested a song, and you’re in for a treat.”

  Rayne sat on the piano bench and took a deep breath. From the first note to the last, she let herself disappear into the music. Victoria had requested Rayne’s favorite song, written at a time when she was certain she’d never find love.

  She hit the last note on the keyboard, squeezed her eyes shut briefly, and then faced the group. She would have never guessed six people clapping could sound so full. However, it wasn’t lost on her that the seventh sat quietly in the corner, watching her with an expression she couldn’t interpret.

  Victoria pulled her in for a hug, followed by Emma and Hannah. “That was amazing!” Emma said. “You will definitely have to sing with Sophie.”

  Rayne smiled and listened as they raved, all the while watching Sam, concerned about his sudden withdrawal. He rose to his feet and smiled, a strange smile, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Rayne broke away from the small group and started toward him.

  Sam turned to Christopher. “Thank you for dinner, Chris. I should take my leave now.”

  Rayne’s heart dropped.

  “Rayne? Will you walk me out, please?” Sam asked.

  Rayne nodded and followed him into the foyer. “Why so early, Sam? We could have visited well past midnight, you know. I can’t really do the whole early to bed, early to rise thing, anyway. It’s not in my nature. I’m a late-to-bed, late-to-rise kinda gal.”

  Sam faced her and narrowed his eyes. “How do you know Victoria?”

  Rayne frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Victoria said that she knew a friend of yours… that you’d never met before.”

  “So?”

  Sam crossed his arms. “So, how did she know you enough to request a song? One that I have never heard before, but one that both Mrs. Madden and Mrs. Butler knew the words to?”

  Rayne bit her lip. “You’d have to ask them.”

  Sam grasped her arm. “I’m asking you.”

  Rayne sighed. “I can’t tell you, Sam.”

  “I’m going to marry you, Rayne. Of course, you’re going to tell me.”

  Rayne pulled away from him. “You are not going to marry me, and I’m not going to tell you.” Rushing up the stairs and into her bedroom, she closed the door and took several deep breaths. Without warning, she felt the door press on her back and she spun to find Sam slipping inside. “What are you doing?” she whispered angrily.

  He closed the door and faced her. “We’re going to talk, Rayne.”

  She pointed to the door with a growl. “Get out.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Crossing her arms, she scowled. “What are we going to talk about?”

  Sam mimicked her stance and raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to tell me everything and I’m not leaving until you do.”

  “Well, then I am.” Rayne moved toward the door.

  Sam twisted the key in the lock and pocketed it. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  She went for him, but he caught her hand before she reached him. “Give me the key.”

  Sam shook his head. “Not until we talk.”

  Rayne swore and thrust her palm out. “Give me the key.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Rayne, and you can have the key.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t tell you, Sam.”

  He stepped forward. “Why not? You seem to have told everyone else.”

  Rayne shook her head. “That’s not fair, Sam. You don’t know the circumstances.”

  “Only because you refuse to tell me them!”

  She couldn’t stop the tears and stood before him, frightened of what would happen if she didn’t tell him… and just as frightened of what would happen if she did.

  He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back. “You can tell me anything.”

  She groaned. “I met you a week ago. I don’t know you.”

  “Perhaps not, but I know me and I’m very trustworthy.”

  Rayne tried to move very slowly. She had him exactly where she wanted him. Just one inch more and she’d have the key.

  Without warning, he grabbed the hand going for his pocket. “Nice try.” Rayne swore, but Sam chuckled in respons
e.

  “I’ll scream.”

  “Go right ahead.” He stroked her cheek. “Just tell me everything, Rayne, and you’ll be free.”

  She shook her head. “You won’t believe me.”

  “If I promise to believe you, will you tell me?”

  She dropped her head onto his chest. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Try, Rayne.”

  Knowing he wouldn’t believe her, she felt perhaps she could use that to her advantage. Once she told him everything, he’d leave her alone and she’d be free to go home without any attachments.

  “Fine. Have a seat.” Sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace, he pointed to the other, and she sat facing him. “I don’t know why you’re insisting on this, Sam. You’re not going to believe a word I say.”

  “Let me decide that.”

  “I’m not from this time.” She paused, but he didn’t comment, so she continued, “I’m from the year two thousand and eighteen. I am a multi-million-dollar recording artist and I sing onstage for a living. A very good living, actually. I was performing the night I found myself drugged and in your jail. The reason Victoria knew who I was is because everyone knows who I am.”

  He leaned his elbows on the chair, his fingers forming a tent. “In the future.”

  “Yes, in the future.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he crossed an ankle over his knee. “How is this possible?”

  Rayne shrugged. “I don’t know. Jared tricked me into an old building, he drugged me, and as I ran to escape, I ended up in a strange room. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying in the mud. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up to Scarface.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Lyle?”

  “Yes, Lyle.” Rayne leaned forward. “But I need to go home, Sam. I can’t live in this century.”

  “Why not?”

  Rayne sank further into the chair. “Because it’s not me and I don’t belong here. I’m not an innocent young woman who will submit to the authority of men.”

  “How much different is it in the future?”

  “For one, women have the right to vote and we pretty much run our own lives.”

  He picked at a thread on his trousers. “So, are you concerned that if you stay here, in this time, you’ll lose your independence?”

 

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